No, no, it must be a dream, it's okay, it's going to wake up. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info wandered half-leaning on the ground, looking at the streets and houses that only existed in ancient times with a confused look. The people in costume looked at him in surprise.

It must have been an illusion, he shook his heavy head, closed his eyes and whispered, "One, two, three!" Wake up! Suddenly he opened his eyes, and a child of about four years old staggered over with a cooking cake.

"Wow, cookbread, take it!" The child said milkily, and the corners of his mouth were still drooling.

"Eh, thank you, little doll, this is a prop that is not ......", Fang Luo listened to the accent of this little doll like the dialect of the Henan generation, but it was quite strange. He didn't answer, and just as he tried to struggle to stand up, his calf ached. "Ahh "Fang found that his calf was bleeding, and the wound was exposed to tattered clothes, with a two-centimeter-long cut mark....... "Who the did this?" Fang Lu couldn't help but be furious, and covered the wound with the cooking cake that snatched the child, and tore open his trouser leg to tie it.

"Mother... Kiss... The old monk, the old monk, snatched the cake of '喀'. The child couldn't speak clearly, and shouted as he ran to the cake shop opposite.

"Nima..."Fang Luo couldn't cry or laugh, what was it called. He struggled to stand up against the wall and shouted: "What kind of crew is this, is it interesting to make the plot so ups and downs." He looked left and right, "Director, you can shout." As soon as the voice fell, it attracted passers-by in strange costumes to watch.

"This great monk, who talks nonsense, is not lightly ill..."

"The hair has grown a few inches, it's a wild monk..."

"Eighty percent of stealing women was beaten..."

"I think it's a thief..."

"Haha..."

“…………”

"Damn... A bunch of pencils! Fang Luo didn't want to think about it, pushed away the onlookers, took one step and made three steps, and only had the word escape in his heart.

He had only walked a few steps when his clothes were ripped off, and when he looked back, it turned out to be the little kid. Fang Luo couldn't help but get annoyed, touched his trouser pocket for a long time, took out two coins, threw them to the child, and hurriedly ran away.

Fang Luo has understood that this is not the era of the 21st century. Although I don't know which dynasty it is, the crossing is just around the corner. How many diao silk dreams of wearing and wearing, wearing Tang and Han wearing the Spring and Autumn Ming and Qing Dynasties. If you are lucky, you will be rich and prominent, and if you are unlucky, you will be single, broken, and cold...... It seems that he is even worse, directly naked, and still with injuries, but I don't know if the body is still not the original.

Close relatives. Hometown.

High-rise buildings, cars.

USB flash drive, teacher's ...... It's like a different world, it's a different world.

Alas, woman! The girl who haunts her dreams. After a crush for many years, she married an extremely good man. This news hit him too hard, so he gave up on himself every day except sleeping, just shaking. Yesterday I was rocking and walking and accidentally fell into the sewer. The moment he fell, it seemed as if there were countless streams of light in his mind traveling at a rapid speed, reaching the endless dark space, and then it was gone. When I woke up, that's what I saw.

X believes in harming people. Fang Xuan glanced at his calf and sniffed. It's better to treat the wound first, it's going to be infected. Thinking so in my heart, I looked up and saw a medicinal herb shop with the word "Kaifeng" on the plaque.

Kaifeng? This is Tokyo? Fang Luo has seen a lot of historical traversal, the protagonist has traveled to Jiangning, Suzhou and Hangzhou or a small ravine, and the emperor is far away, so he has been coaxing since then. Although it was at the feet of the Son of Heaven, it was easier to hug his thighs, and he couldn't help but feel a burst of joy in his heart. Silver...... Belle...... Hot kang head......

Fang Luo walked into the pharmacy with a rather complacent lameness, thinking that he had no money to buy medicinal materials, and the RMB in his pocket could not be used. is scratching his ears and cheeks, and has some ideas.

"Amitabha Buddha ......" Fang Luo walked in with a limp of steps.

But no one paid attention to him, and the shopkeeper was just busy grabbing medicine, and he didn't see the shopkeeper. Fang Lu clasped his hands together, raised his voice and shouted, "Ahem! Amitabha Buddha ......"

"Amitabha! Amitabha! You great monk, it's not like I haven't heard it! The shopkeeper glanced over to this side angrily and said. You bastard, dressed strangely, like an uncivilized barbarian. ”

Fang Luo secretly gritted his teeth and said quietly: "The poor monk came from the extreme west across the sea!" ”

The guy at the shop put down the Chinese herbs in his hand, walked out of the counter, and looked up and down. Especially when he saw a cooking cake tied to his calf, he rolled his eyes, sneered and said, "I think I came all the way to beg!" Hey! I am a person who has gone to a private school, and I know that the barbarians in the west are all red-haired and fanged, and your fake monk is obviously quite similar to my Great Song people. Lying is a hell of a ......" The man turned and walked back to the counter, adding, "Holy monk! ”

Fang Xuan's face couldn't help but turn red and white. How can this crossing be so fucking easy, you can't even fool a guy, fuck it. I couldn't help but curse in a low voice: "#¥@#Thesonofabitch!" "I was about to turn around and leave.

"Huh? Did the great monk say something? The shopkeeper turned around curiously and vigilantly when he heard this.

Fang Luo faintly felt that there was a way, folded his hands, and said slowly: "Amitabha, the donor is highly talented, and the poor monk Fang just said that it is the Sanskrit language of Tianzhu, and the donor should know that this is the meaning of praise." ”

"That's ...... Of course...... I'm a person who has studied private school! The shopkeeper was stunned and replied cheekily.

"The poor monk looks at the face of the donor, the sky is wide, the pavilion is round, and the donor is full of talent, wealth can be expected, wealth can be expected, Amitabha Buddha ......!" Fang Xuan casually squirted.

That guy was already full of joy and surprise, this monk knew Sanskrit, and the monk who knew Sanskrit only knew Master Xuanzang of the Tang Dynasty. It's unfathomable. Although there is still half a point of distrust.

"But ......" Fang Lu saw that he was starting to take the bait, and began to whet his appetite.

The shop guy was happy, and when he heard this, he couldn't help but be a little nervous: "But what? Master, could it be that there is still a change? ”

"Amitabha Buddha ......" Fang Luo bent down and slowly removed the cake on the leggings, revealing a red and swollen wound. It's just that the poor monk's injury has endangered Huigen, and if you say anything else...... I am afraid that even the cultivation of poor monks will be difficult to resist this heavenly curse that leaks heavenly secrets. Donor's forgiveness......"

"Ah...... Holy Monk ...... Wait for the disciple to get the medicine for you first! The shopkeeper folded his hands and hurriedly turned around and grabbed the medicinal herbs.

What is the male turtle, gallant star, blood exhaustion, strychnine, keel...... The shopkeeper grabbed a lot of them, ground them into powder finely, and soaked some into cold boiled water to make a paste, and applied them to Fang Luo.

"This ...... Amitabha...... Donor, the poor monk is penniless, how does this make ......" Fang Qian pretend to be surprised and pushed.

"Make it! Holy monk, this is the disciple's filial piety to you. To tell the holy monk the truth, this cooked medicine is run by the government, and all the medicinal materials are of the best quality. As he spoke, the shopkeeper asked Fang Lu to sit down, cleaned his wounds, and applied medicine. He returned to the counter and wrapped a large bag of ground medicinal herbs into powder and stuffed it into Fang Xi's hand. "Holy monk, these herbs are applied once a day, and the wound will heal after a few days. Hey hey ......"

"Amitabha, there is a labor giver." Fang Yu gave the guy a quick look.

"It should be, it should be...... It is...... Please also ask the holy monk to point out the ......" The shopkeeper rubbed his hands and asked eagerly.

"Amitabha, the donor brings pen and paper!" Fang Lu laughed in his heart.

The shopkeeper hurried to get a pen and paper.

Forehead...... Fang Luo took the brush and suddenly remembered that he was not good at calligraphy, and the chicken he wrote pecked at the rice body, and he was afraid that the diorama would be debunked.

He thought about it, held the brush, and wrote a sentence in English on the paper: "Youareapighead." And read it again. Anyway, the shopkeeper doesn't know English, and no matter how ugly the writing is, he doesn't understand beauty and ugliness. But this sentence is really written in a kind of ethereal and extraordinary. Fang Luo admired it a little complacently.

"This ......" the shopkeeper didn't know him at all, so he had to say, "The holy monk's calligraphy is really peculiar, and Sanskrit is much better than the disciple's writing." However, how should this Buddha be interpreted? ”

This kid is really a talent in a pig's head. Fang Luo smiled secretly and replied: "Amitabha, the donor should kill a pig at home, take off the pig's head, put on the incense case, and serve it for three days and three nights, and the road to wealth can be unimpeded." ”

"Ah...... Holy monk, this is killing......" The shopkeeper was surprised, how could the monk encourage me to kill.

"Amitabha, this has consumed half of my life's practice, and the donor still hasn't understood......" Anyway, I am not a monk, what God's punishment, what practice has nothing to do with me, Fang Qian pretended to be in pain.

Although the shopkeeper is a philistine, he is just an ordinary person, the ancients believed in life, and they were very reverent of gods and Buddhas in their bones. Hearing Fang Yao say this, he was grateful and guilty in his heart: "Holy monk, disciple is ashamed, I can't live with you, it's better for you to stay in my house to recuperate." ”

Forehead. Fang Qian chuckled in his heart. This can't be done, and it hasn't been seen through after a long time? Even if you heal from your injuries, you will be beaten into an iron crutch again. However, it solves the problem of food and housing, sad people, is this a happy trouble? Fang Xuan laughed at himself in his heart, and said slowly: "The poor monk has been traveling all over the world for a long time, and he has a Buddha in his heart, so he doesn't dare to leave the Buddha for half a step. The heart is for all living beings, and you can't stay for half a moment everywhere. Thank you for your kindness, if you have a heart, give the poor monk some paper and pencils. ”

"This ...... The holy monk is a high-ranking monk, and the disciple does not dare to break the holy monk's pure cultivation. Serve pen and paper. The shopkeeper wrapped a pen and an inkstone and a stack of paper and handed it to Fang Luo, took out his sleeve for a while, took out two pennies, and said embarrassedly: "Holy monk, the disciple is really poor, and there is another family to eat, I hope the monk will not dislike this money." If his disciples gain wealth one day, they will build a temple for the holy monks to stay. ”

Fang Luo really dislikes it. What can you do with these two pennies, buy a few steamed buns? Or buy a few steamed buns? However, there was really a shortage of this money, so he took it unceremoniously: "Amitabha, money is like dung, and the donor will give this money to the displaced people who fled the famine on the way." Buddha Amitayus! ”

Don't. Why don't you give it back to me? The shopkeeper regretted it a little, muttered in his heart, but said with a smile on his face: "The holy monk is merciful, the disciple's name is Huan Feng, and he hasn't consulted the holy monk yet......

Forehead...... This one...... Fang Yu just wanted to leave quickly, he couldn't talk nonsense here. What is the name of the law? Quitting sex? No. Wu Neng? Not domineering enough. He immediately replied: "Lord Huan, the poor monk's Dharma name is 'one lamp', he has a fate, you and I will see you again." ”

The shopkeeper was about to say something, but Fang Luo turned around and left, calling out "Amitabha".

"Master Yideng ......walks slowly," the shopkeeper shouted, thinking about the wealth that the master said, his heart was sweet, but when he thought of killing a pig, he had to spend a lot of money, and his heart hurt and was happy.