Jizo only arrived at Shanju Village today, this remote village is not easy to find, and he walked a lot to find the village gate here.

As for the purpose of his coming here, it is simple, he is coming to kill someone.

The trouble is that the man seems to be a monk now, and he doesn't want to kill that person in the temple.

He has some paranoia, and he himself knows this shortcoming, and will always cling to something inconsequential.

However, he was also accustomed to this shortcoming, so he was going to write a letter and ask the person he was going to kill. This not only solves the problem, but also makes it easier for both people.

And before that he had to eat something, he had walked for several days, and he was already hungry.

At this time of year, the mountain village is full of falling cherry blossoms, and even the street floor is almost covered with flower petals.

Jizo tilted his head slightly, and when he saw the cherry blossom-colored peaks in his eyes, his mouth holding straw moved.

It's a beautiful sight, and even the villagers walking among the cherry blossoms feel like a part of it.

"Oops. ”

A woodcutter walked by Jizo's side, carrying two large bundles of firewood on his back, probably because his eyes were attracted to Jizo's stranger, and he didn't notice the road under his feet, so he stumbled.

Two bundles of firewood fell from his shoulders, and he saw that the firewood was about to fall to the ground and scatter to the ground.

Jizo stretched out his hand, grabbed the rope tied to the firewood, and lifted the firewood.

Two large bundles of firewood were held in his hands as if they had no weight.

"Are you alright?" Jizo asked flatly, looking at the woodcutter who had fallen to the ground.

"It's okay, it's okay. The woodcutter hurriedly patted the dust on his body and stood up: "It's good that the firewood is not scattered, otherwise it will take a lot of effort." ”

As he spoke, the woodcutter took the firewood from Jizo's hand, and although he was stumbled, he was a mountain man who was used to this, and he limped and carried the firewood on his back.

"Thank you, brother. With a brief greeting, the woodcutter walked away with the firewood on his back.

Jizo watched the woodcutter walk away.

On the street, the eyes of the villagers looking at Jizo have become friendly from strangers.

The mountain village is really a small village, and it is really easy to accept outsiders, as long as you have no malicious intentions, they will welcome you.

In front of a street stall, Jizo sat down, ordered a bowl of noodle soup, and sat on a table and chair with cherry blossoms and waited.

Not long after, the proprietress arrived at Jizo's table with a bowl of noodle soup.

There is only this small noodle restaurant in this village, after all, the village is so big, there are no outsiders, most of the people eat at home, who will have nothing to eat in a noodle restaurant.

The proprietress of the noodle shop is a widow with a child, which is not easy. The villagers occasionally take care of their business, so they can make a living.

"Your face. ”

The proprietress put her face down, wiped her hands on her apron, and went back to the back kitchen.

Jizo looked at the noodles on his table, it was a very simple bowl of noodle soup, ordinary white soup with noodles boiled and a few vegetable leaves.

But this is exactly what he wants, he is a vegetarian and does not eat meat.

Taking off his hat and setting it aside, Jizo took a pair of chopsticks from the chopstick cage next to him.

At this moment, a few cherry blossoms flew down into the bowl in front of Jizo and floated on top of the noodle soup.

"Oh?" Jizo muttered to himself in a low voice, "Did the heavens give me a few petals?"

"Then it is better to be respectful than to obey. Jizo closed his eyes and held his chopsticks in front of him, as if he had made a solemn salute.

Then he took his chopsticks and ate the noodles in a big gulp, as if he was eating some delicacies from the mountains and the sea.

Others can't read Jizo, just like he can't read himself.

But there always seemed to be a strange rule to what he did, his own rules, and only the rules he followed.

At dusk, most of the pedestrians on the street have already returned, and Jizo is still walking on the streets of Yamai Village.

With his sword in hand, he stopped in front of a dilapidated room. This is the corner of the village, and this house is probably abandoned, uninhabited, not even a door, with cobwebs on the door frame.

He was going to stay here for the night, he was a wanderer after all, and it would usually be nice to have a corner for him to rest.

"Meow. ”

A cat meow caused Jizo to pause as he stepped through the door.

He looked over the doorframe and saw a brown wildcat also crouching there, watching him warily.

A man and a cat looked at each other for a long time, and a gust of wind blew and blew the cobwebs on the door frame.

Jizo held his sword and said loudly to the wildcat.

"I'm homeless tonight, I wonder if I can borrow a night here?"

The wildcat's erect pupils were vigilant, and it stood up, walked back and forth on the doorframe for a while, then jumped lightly to the ground, and walked slowly and cautiously to Jizo.

"Meow. ”

God knows if this person and a cat are really communicating, only that Jizo squatted down, stretched out his hand and touched the cat's chin, and said in a dull voice.

"Are you homeless too?"

The wildcat narrowed his eyes and called again, "Meow." ”

It hesitated and jumped into Jizo's arms.

Jizo caught it, hugged it, and touched its back.

"Well, let's stay here tonight. ”

With that, Jizo walked into the dilapidated hut with the wildcat in his arms.

At night, Jizo lit a bonfire, which illuminated his shadow and that of the wildcat. Jizo holds the straw in one hand and teases the wildcat.

In the other hand, he holds a pen and writes a letter.

"When, when, when. ”

The sound of a bell rings in the mountain village, the evening bell of the Seishinji Temple, calling for those who have not yet returned home to go home early.

Jizo listened to the bell, waited for the freshly written letter to dry his ink, and sat by the fire, wiping the knife in his hand.

Where did a lonely ghost like him come from?

In the early morning, the air is still moist with morning dew.

The old monk went out to dry with a box of firewood, the weather was a little damp these days, and the firewood in the firewood room was a little wet, and it was easy to use it when it was dried.

Spread the scattered firewood in front of the door, the old monk hung his back, his hands and feet became more and more inflexible, people will always be old, no one can escape life, old age, sickness and death.

Just as he was about to go back, he saw what seemed to be something by the door, and when he looked closer, he realized that it seemed to be a letter.

What is there in this village that everyone says to their faces, and who will write a letter?

The old monk picked up the letter, and six words were neatly written on the envelope.

"Qingxin Temple presided over the collection. ”

For the old monk me?

The old monk took the letter in amazement, and he couldn't think of anyone who would write to him. To no avail, he shook his head, took the letter into his arms, and walked back to the temple.

Outside the temple, around the corner of the street, Jizo, wearing a hat, leaned against the wall with the straw in his mouth, and the brown wildcat in his arms yawned.

Jizo watched the old monk go back and pressed down the hat.