Jiarong Bacang Monastery, among the many Buddhist temples in Tibet, is considered to be a medium-to-upper temple.

Tibetan Buddha, began at the end of the Tang Dynasty, in the process of the decline of the Tang Dynasty, Tubo coincided with the prosperous era, taking advantage of the era of the chaotic era of swords and soldiers as the king, but also highlighted a sense of existence, many times gathered troops to go down the plateau, fought happily, and even briefly occupied the symbol of the Central Plains Imperial Power Chang'an City.

However, the five dynasties and ten kingdoms came and went, and Tubo was also vigorous and prosperous, and when the last Tibetan king Zanpu was assassinated, Tubo, like the Tang Dynasty, fell into the civil strife for imperial power.

The ugly internal friction exhausted the last drop of blood in Tibet, the unified dynasty collapsed, the serfs took the opportunity to revolt, strangled the people in power on weekdays, the royal family hid in Tibet, and the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau became a mess like a borderless land, and Tubo, as a country, disappeared from the map, and was replaced by **** temple lords.

The people in the chaos of the war and disaster longed for peace, and the tantric Buddhism from Tianzhu advocated the cycle of cause and effect, and the suffering in this life and the afterlife into bliss were just able to soothe people's scarred hearts, and Buddhist temples sprung up in the vast plateau.

With the emergence of Buddhist temples, it is rare to attain the Tao, the temple leads people to open up wasteland and develop production, the monks spread the scriptures, soothe people's hearts, rely on religious means to establish a lofty prestige among the people, the lords of the secession in order to protect their own interests, have united with the temple, gradually, the temple replaces the previous official office, performs the duties of the government, and the political ecology on the snowy plateau, integrates and perfects, and the unique structure of politics and religion is breathing out of one nostril, gradually taking shape.

Bacang Temple is such a combination of half politics and half religion.

In the hearts of hundreds of thousands of Tibetans in the Jiarong area, it is the highest god.

The monks inside are all the spokesmen of the gods, and the supreme master Baren is a half-human and half-god figure, and he plays the role of the ruler of the entire Jiarong.

Bacang Temple was built in the center of Jiarong area, on the outskirts of Chamagang City, the temple stands on the mountain, magnificent, and the dilapidated and disorderly image of Chamagang City in the distance, compared with this brightly colored temple, Chamagang City is a slum.

The temple is built along the hillside, halfway up the mountainside, and from a distance, the whole temple is built on the clouds, with yellow walls and red bricks, like smoke and fog, and the immortals are worthy of living in it.

Closer to take a closer look, it is even more impressive that the grandeur of this temple, the cornerstone is built with a whole piece of mountain stone, unbreakable, these stones must be excavated from the Gensha Mountain more than ten miles away, it takes a lot of manpower to transport, and finally it can be used by skilled craftsmen to polish and carve. The temple itself is a wooden frame, the thick whole tree is shaved and the branches are varnished, and then the masonry is used for the wall, the Daiwa is the roof, and the wall is wrapped in mortar, and the curtain is decorated with mortar, as for the believers to worship and worship all the daily necessities are everything, and it is a kind of happiness to be able to live in it, such happiness, not to mention ordinary people, even the ordinary Tibetan nobles, are not eligible to enjoy.

Little Shami Gyatso lives here.

He is only 11 years old this year, but he has been studying Buddhism in the temple for three years.

He was lucky that he did not die in the wilderness like his parents, but was rescued by Master Baren, raised in the temple, and made a novice, so he was very satisfied.

Every day, he was satisfied with barley rice, butter tea, and a comfortable monk's house to live in, and good believers to worship.

So for Master Baren, he looked up to and respected, every morning class, he listened carefully to the master's lecture on the Buddha, carefully studied the text, determined to dedicate the time of his life to the Bacang Temple, dedicated to the Buddha.

In addition to the daily Buddhist lectures in the temple, there is a lot of work, after all, it is not enough to rely on the donations of poor believers, and it is not enough for hundreds of people in the temple to dove, and it is necessary to distribute meals to the common people every month, and the cost is not small, so there is a lot of work.

Because Gyatso was too young, he didn't need to go to the fields, and his daily work was to clean the temples, add oil to the peace lamps everywhere, and brush off the fine dust on the Buddha statues.

One of the most important things is to sprinkle and sweep the dwelling of Master Baren.

He woke up very early, but when he got up, he always saw that Guru Paren had gotten up and left the ashram where he lived and went to a small hall behind the main hall to meditate.

Everyone in the temple knows this habit, so this small hall is very secluded and undisturbed.

Only Gatso had to go in, because the lantern in the small hall needed to be refueled, and although Master Baren was close to God, he was not yet a god, and when he sat alone in the small hall, he also needed light.

That morning, he still got up early, opened the door of the monk's room, took a sip of the beautiful morning light outside, rubbed his eyes, washed his face with the water in the water tank outside the house, and walked to the elegant and quiet little hall.

The temple is divided into inside and outside, and the inner courtyard where the donor lives is not allowed to be entered by ordinary believers, and there is a corridor partition, and the wooden gate where the inside and outside intersect is guarded by a monk. The small hall was at the end of the corridor, separated from the main hall of the outer courtyard by a wall.

In the corridor in the morning, there is no one, the monks who get up early are doing their own things outside, there are no lazy people in the temple, everyone has busy work.

Gatso walked alone on the porch, the courtyards on both sides were empty, the pine trees were forested, the birds were jumping and flying on the top of the trees, chirping and singing, the young Gatso looked at them with envious eyes, those dancing wings were so light, if they could fly into the sky like birds, how good it would be.

As he walked, Gatso came to the door of the small hall, and as is customary, he stopped and listened intently to the movement inside.

If Master Baren is meditating, then he can't go in at the moment, he has to wait until he finishes meditating and starts chanting, and then he can go in, otherwise it won't be good to disturb the master.

Gatso was standing a few steps away from the door, but he heard a voice that was somewhat different from before.

Someone was talking in it, in Tibetan, and the voice was very low, but it was audible that Master Baren was not alone, it seemed that Master Baren was talking to someone else.

The conversation was intense, a bit like a fight.

The master has a guest?

Gyatso was a little surprised, it was just dawn, and the guests came so early.

He stopped there, hesitating whether to leave for a moment or wait, or to serve a bowl of tea to the guests, when he heard a shout that had risen a few decibels.

"No!"

"Poof!"

Gatso's heart shook suddenly, he had seen the sound of the temple killing cattle and sheep, and the sound of the warrior monk stabbing the knife into the neck of the cow and sheep was similar to this sound.

Unable to care about anything else, Gyatso didn't know where the courage came from, and slammed open the door of the small hall.

A figure climbed out of the window on the other side, moving so fast that Gatso only had time to see a figure in a monk's yellow robe.

Gyatso hurried to the window, outside was a secluded courtyard, a few steps away was the outer wall of the Bachang Temple, the escapees had disappeared, a few eye-catching footprints were left on the white wall, and the people who went out of the window were so skilled that they jumped over the wall nearly two people high without difficulty.

Gatso hurriedly turned around, and then froze.

The master of Bachang Temple, Master Baren, fell on the old futon he usually sat on, with a demon-slaying pestle inserted in his chest, and his eyes bulged, looking at the roof, blood flowing down the yellow monk's robes, flowing all over the ground.

He's dead.