The monks are chanting.

The wonderful rhythm of the scriptures came into the ears, bringing layers of echoes, causing Yan Tao to have a wonderful feeling.

Wuchen stood outside the door, his eyes closed, his left hand pinched the Buddha beads on his wrist, his thin lips opened and closed, and he recited the scriptures.

It is the Heart Sutra of Guanyin

Yan Tao doesn't feel any Bodhisattva's protection and redemption, but the scriptures can calm his mind and calm down.

After chanting a scripture, even Yan Tao's heart was a lot quieter.

"Amitabha~"

The monks in the hall clasped their hands together, shouted the Buddha horn in unison, and continued to meditate.

Wuchen: "You wait outside for a while, I'll go and ask my senior brother to come out." ”

Yan Tao nodded.

The abbot of Tanga Temple is only seventy years old, covered with a robe, and has a childish face, and walks out of the temple door with the help of Wuchen.

Yan Tao stood sideways, his dark eyes were clear and clean, and he looked at the old monk without any emotion.

Kind eyebrows, kind eyes, master demeanor.

The standard temple abbot looks like something in a TV series.

"Amitabha, the poor monk Buddha is called Wuzhi," Wuzhi showed a gentle smile, "You are Yan Tao, right?" ”

Yan Tao bowed slightly, and she was much more polite to her elders, "I've seen Master Wuzhi." ”

"Come with me."

Wuzhi's vicissitudes of wisdom swept over Yan Tao, "This thing has been kept with me for thirty years, but I didn't expect that one day it would be able to take it out." ”

Yan Tao was still thinking about what Wuchen said, and asked suspiciously, "How did Master Abbot know that I would go to the imperial capital?" And, how can you tell if I'm the one you're waiting for? ”

"Hehe," Wuzhi laughed clearly, not at all like a seventy-year-old man, "I'm just an old man who recites scriptures, where can I have such an unpredictable prophet ability." Yan Gongzi was born in the Dao Sect, and he should know better than I know that he has a strange number of hands. ”

"Many years ago, the deceased entrusted me with two important objects, hoping that I could help them preserve them." Wuzhi walked to the door of a very small courtyard.

Although this courtyard is small, the furnishings in the courtyard are well organized, which is extremely pleasing to the eye.

"I didn't expect to be able to give it out one day......"

Wuzhi took the key out of his pocket, opened the door, and walked in first.

Yan Tao: This old man is a little strange.

Xiao Qi touched his chin: It seems to be.

The meaning of the unwise words is that no one will come to pick up this thing at all......

"Okay, that's it, I can give you both."

Wuzhi took over a wooden box, wiped the thick dust from the box with his old palm like a dead branch, and said slowly, "I'll leave it to you, I hope you can use it properly." ”

Yan Tao raised her eyebrows, but she didn't take it, she directly stretched out her hand and opened the wooden box.

The old monk obviously didn't expect this young man to be so crisp, and the corners of his eyes twitched: Sure enough, it was that guy's child, just as unexpected.

There were two things lying in the box.

A pen, a brand.

The pen is dark black, and the pen is engraved with strange fonts, which may not be recognizable to others at all.

Yan Tao raised his eyebrows in surprise and reached out to take the pen.

As soon as the white fingertips touched the pen body, there was a cool feeling of strange art entering the palm, and it was so cold that Yan Tao was excited.

That's yin.

She was slightly surprised, ignoring the coldness of the yin qi, grabbed it in her hand, and carefully observed the words on the pen.

After much observation, it was determined that it was the Stygian.

Formal script, ghost language.

Yan Tao's eyes widened slightly, and his handsome and demonic face rarely swelled with surprise, "This is ...... Judge pen? ”