For a moment, the rain stopped. Then, like thousands of paratroopers, the raindrops jumped down from the sky and stood on the ground. The rain connects thousands of silver threads, dancing without wind.

The rain dripped down the edges of the mulberry, wetting his face and his robe. But he couldn't get rid of the persistence in his eyes, and the perseverance and solemnity in his expression.

The curtain of silver rain grew smaller and lower, and finally fell from the sky to the ground. It seems that the mulberry is shrouded in the embrace of the rain, and there is a bead curtain between Qingya and Ba Lan, flickering and dimming, faintly.

It's like a ritual, a baptism.

In a trance, people can no longer see Sang Zhu's figure clearly. The old monk Ba Lan looked at the rain curtain that belonged to Sang Zhu with a solemn expression, and prayed for him silently.

At this moment, the rain has already passed, and the sky is clear. The rising sun, which had been buried under the clouds before, also poured out of the endless clouds. The red and large sun wheel is like a burning fireball, shining brightly in the blue sky.

There was no wind in the air, and the blazing sun seemed to dry everything on the earth. It also shoots out a strong golden light, as if laughing and welcoming a new life.

Welcome the birth of Kun Xing!

The rain stopped and dissipated.

finally revealed Sang Zhu's emaciated figure, and his appearance was unchanged from before. It's just that there is a little more cinnabar in the center of the eyebrows, and the tenderness in the eyes has turned into clouds and smoke.

"Master," he bowed to Ba Lan, clasping his hands together, "Sang Zhu's last wish is to release this snake." ”

Ba Lan glanced at him silently, and finally sighed lightly, "Alas, my Buddha is merciful, so I should be the virtue of a good life in heaven." ”

With a wave of his hand, the bowl rose into the air and grew larger, leaving only a curled snake shivering on the ground.

Sang Zhu didn't take a second look, but slowly spoke: "My name is boundless, and I am ranked in the eleventh line." ”

Words spoken cannot be reversed, just as they are made and cannot be changed.

The divine golden light bathed him, making him like a merciless sage.

In fact, this is also the case, because from now on he is no longer a little monk Sangzhu, but Kun Wuya.

As the eleventh generation of Kun Xing, he has his own responsibilities.

Sang Zhu didn't want to be a Kun Xing, he just wanted to recite the scriptures of his life with his master peacefully, or conscientiously follow his master to kill demons and eliminate demons.

However, at this moment, there is one more variable, an existence that Sang Zhu cannot refuse. In order to save her, he could only take off his coat and put on his battle suit.

But when he puts on the battle suit, he is no longer a mulberry, and he can no longer love Qingya.

He is Kun Wuyi.

The Buddha said: "The sea of suffering is endless, and turning back is the shore." That is, there is no end, where is the shore? ”

The Buddha said that the cycle of life and death is like a sea of suffering, boundless. If you want to get rid of the sea of suffering and transcend the world, you can only attain nirvana through the practice of enlightenment.

That is, turning back to the shore.

But the bitter sea is endless, where does it come from? And the shore is relative to the sea, if you are free from the sea of suffering, and the sea does not even exist, where will there be a shore?

He didn't understand it once, but now he still doesn't understand it, the sea of bitterness is endless, where is the shore.

He can't find Haiya and can't support Qingya, he can only be a boundless Kun Xing.

From now on, I only live for the world and only for the mission.

But he was still glad that he could still save her. Thankfully, the first wish of this Kun Xing was impossible to refuse.