If he cherishes the wind, no one can answer him.

Even the noisy Xiyun Dahan only talked for a long time, and he couldn't say a word of comfort.

At last, he got up and went out of the house in a daze, and said, "I've drunk a day's wine, I'll go get him some hot soup pads!" ”

Xiyun Dahan's craftsmanship, being a cook is absolutely qualified, cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, fungus, green onions, ginger and spicy, and the people in the house stopped talking, just drinking the three fresh soup in the bowl with their heads bored.

After drinking, Old Man Xiao chewed in his mouth, put down the bowl, and asked the wind, "Second brother, what do you think?" ”

Xi Feng seemed to be much calmer, looking up at the roof, and his voice was hoarse: "I want to see her!" ”

Old man Xiao groaned and nodded, but still asked, "What about after you see it?" ”

Xifeng's eyes trembled suddenly, the broken sword in his hand clenched violently, and a spark sparked on the ground, and the complexity on his face finally turned into a thick and indissolvable coldness, and he said in a resolute tone: "If you see it, kill!" ”

Yuan Yu always felt that the way Xi Feng said these words, the shadow of Mo Typhoon, who had been thinking about Ah Xun, seemed to really no longer exist at all, just like what was still alive in front of him, but it was just a heart full of holes and hatred.

Not only Yuan Yu, maybe cherish the dust, cherish the clouds, and even Old Man Xiao also thinks so, and they all think so.

And Yuan Zhenzi, who had nothing to do with these things, suddenly said with some uneasiness on his face: "You are too one of your own affairs, and I won't be involved as an outsider!" ”

Yuan Zhenzi's face was a little red, after all, after listening to other people's stories, and sitting in the same room with them and eating other people's food, in the end he said such things, which was too unrighteous.

……

Sleep all night with your own thoughts.

The next morning, the drizzle was still lingering, and after so long it had been, the ground was only slightly wet.

The Xilamulun River, the northern source of the West Liao River, converges with the Laoha River to form the West Liao River.

In the documents sent by the old Song Dynasty, the Xilamulun River appeared more than once, so it was a place called Keshiketeng Banner in the upper reaches of the Xilamulun River.

That is, in Lao Song's documents, he once talked about the place where the floating coffin floated.

At the foot of the mountain of Taiyizong, Yuan Zhenzi said goodbye to a few people.

And looking at the back of Yuan Yu following Old Man Xiao away, Yuan Zhenzi suddenly smiled bitterly: "Who is the outsider?" ”

。。。。。。。。。。。。

The little monk remembered his master's words firmly.

Even if the rain continues to fall, the steps under your feet still do not stop.

The little monk still doesn't know what the meaning of his aimless walk is.

When I was very young, Master said that walking in the world is the greatest practice.

Master also said that only when you walk on a different path can you know the joys and sorrows of the world.

But before the little monk grew up, his master, the old monk who believed that the world was practiced, was gone.

No delusion, the old monk should be dead, yes, it should be dead, because Wu Yu only dreamed of the old monk in an occasional dream later, in which the old monk was hanged on a tree......

Wufu does not feel that there is anything to grieve, and there is nothing to be afraid of, and death is just another starting point for man.

He just had some regrets, regretting that the master who depended on him for his life was not perfect on the path of cultivation, and he did not die on the path of cultivation, but was hanged on a tree.

Therefore, the little monk took up the mantle of the old monk again as a matter of course, memorized the scriptures, and embarked on his own path of cultivation step by step.

The world always laughed at him and asked him if he was a real monk!

If you are a real monk, where can you suffer this crime!

The little monk asked suspiciously: "Shouldn't it be normal for monks to become monks and suffer suffering?" ”

He didn't understand what the world was saying, and the world didn't understand his practice, but it was strange that when he used these words to ask the people who laughed at him, they had a little admiration for him.

Later, when the monk heard that there was also a group of monks in faraway India who were practicing asceticism, the monk felt that he was not alone.

But later, when he learned more about it, the little monk felt that he did not agree with those ascetic monks.

In his view, although cultivation is hard, it is not a deliberate pursuit of extreme suffering.

Everyone has their own way of practice, so even if you don't agree with it, you won't say anything.

At dusk after the rain stopped, it was a little overcast.

The innocent little monk carried the sutra on his back and whispered Amitabha Buddha to the vendor who was sticking to the stove to make the cakes.

Not all people are willing to give.

Instead, the peddler's daughter had two baked cakes in her arms with her eyes shining brightly.

It's just that before the little monk said thank you, the baked cake in his arms was snatched away by the hawker.

The peddler squinted his eyes and sneered: "The monk with fine skin and tender meat, there must be a lot of incense money in the temple, and he still comes here to eat and drink, and he doesn't give it!" ”

The little monk said that the monk does not leave overnight money.

The peddler said, "Get out! The devil believes in you! ”

The little monk bent down to laugh, then turned around and prepared to leave.

But the peddler was beaten, and the stove on which the cake was burned was overturned.

The peddler's daughter looked at her beautiful sister in horror and crossed her waist like a tigress.

Bu Xi Huaiwen shook off all the money in his pocket with a bitter face and stuffed it into the hands of the hawker's daughter.

The peddler's daughter had no time to take care of her father, and watched the beautiful young lady come to the little monk and stomp her feet angrily.

Bu Xixi shook the silver bell on the tip of his hair, tugged at the corner of the little monk's clothes and didn't let go, and his tone was like maltose: "Ah, little monk." You're hungry! ”

The little monk of Wu was frightened and pulled a few times, but the corner of his clothes was held by the girl in front of him, so his expression was even more frightened: "Amitabha, donor, you let go of ......"

Bu Xi Huaiwen on the side came over anxiously, stretched out his big hand, and hugged the little monk without delusion.

The face of the little monk is as earthy: "What are you going to do, I am just a monk with feet, and I have no ......penny on my body."

Bu Xi Huaiwen showed a face twisted into a bun, and said bitterly: "When you are a foot monk, go back with me!" ”

The little monk was at a loss: "Amitabha, donor, you want to take me...... Where are ...... going?"

Bu Xi Huaiwen grinned and pulled out a smile that was uglier than crying: "Go home!" Qiannan Guizhou! ”

"Donor, what are you taking me back to your house?"

"Naturally, it's marriage! Oh, marry my sister. Don't do it in the future, be my brother-in-law, when you get home, you prepare first, get your hair out first......"

Bu Xi Huaiwen snorted, carried the little monk up, and patted his buttocks: "My sister finally fell in love with one of them, and followed you all the way, I'm a brother, I can't do anything......"