Guan Wen looked around, his gaze gradually adjusting to the darkness in the sun. He now found that there were six hewn rectangular niches on the left and right sides of the tree hole, lined up, a total of twelve. The surface of the niche is enclosed by glass panels, about one meter long, half a meter wide, and half a meter deep.

"Master, don't play dumb riddles, time is precious." He said loudly.

Caidan Dajie laughed softly: "Young man, don't worry, the so-called time is just a counting tool for human beings to deceive themselves. Here, time is no longer important, and it has been a thousand years in the world. In life, if you can't do some great things, then what's the difference between living and not living?"

Guan Wen shook his head: "Master, I'm here to listen to the teachings, don't tease me anymore."

He took two steps forward and stared at Caidan Dajie's face.

Suddenly, he found that when the voice sounded, Caidan Dajie's lips did not move, and his facial expression was extremely blank.

"You're smart, when others think about a problem, you can think of ten. It's good, it's good,...... the voice was still ringing.

Guan Wenwei then retreated: "Master, where are you?" Show up and talk! ”

Caidan Dajie on the opposite side not only didn't speak, but seemed to have stopped breathing, and there was no sign of a living person on his body.

Guan Wen retreated too quickly, and his back suddenly hit the niche of the tree, and his shoulder blades hit a faint pain. He looked back and saw a corpse lying flat in the alcove. According to the size of the niche, it could only hold the corpse of a child before the age of five, but what he saw now was the corpse of an adult with an old face and a scruffy beard. What's even more bizarre is that the corpse does not have a three-dimensional undulation, but is flat like a photo frame, including clothes, and the thickness is definitely not more than an inch.

"What is this?" He couldn't help but scream, and the hairs on his body stood on end, thinking that he too had fallen into a nightmare that never stopped.

"yes, what's that? Can you see that?" The voice asked.

Guan Wen gritted his teeth and tried to restrain the violent tremors all over his body: "It's a miniature corpse, how can this be?" Are you a tree master, what's wrong with him?"

The voice sighed, "I said, I am." Don't be afraid, I have no ill intentions. ”

Guan Wen took another step back, ready to pull out his legs and escape at any time.

"Caidan Dajie, you came to tell him what the hell is going on." The voice said.

Only then did Dajie get out of his stiff posture and move his hands and feet. It's like restarting a movie from a pause.

Dense beads of sweat were already oozing from Guan Wen's forehead, but he could finally hold on, and waited for Dajie to open his mouth to explain this qiē.

"Don't be afraid." Caidan Dajie said.

"Master, what else can I do at such a time? Maybe I shouldn't come?" Guan Wen smiled bitterly. He hadn't expected things to turn out like this, and half an hour earlier, he had been with Bao Ling, quietly discussing those strange dreams. But half an hour later, he was trapped in a nightmarish reality, facing ten miniature flat corpses.

Caidan Dajie sighed, walked to the alcove, and thought silently for more than ten seconds before he spoke with difficulty: "Of course you can see that they are all dead. Their bodies became like this because everyone had been on hunger strike for months or even a year, until their minds were mature and their bodies were extremely deprived. In that state, they can freely donate their thoughts. ”

Guan Wen couldn't understand, but smiled bitterly again and again, looking at Caidan Dajie.

Judging from the facial features of those corpses, they should all be Tibetans. Each corpse's eyes were deeply sunken, and there was nothing but skin and bones left in any part of the body. Their bones have even collapsed and shrunk, so the whole person can become so thin.

"They are the treasurers who remember history, and they are also selfless devotees. It is precisely because of their dedication to the gods of cutting meat to feed the eagle and sacrificing their lives to feed the tiger that this ancient tree can survive with difficulty. In the long history of Tibetan Buddhism, there have always been some characters who have played tragic roles, exchanging their own deaths for more people's lives, and bringing hope to mankind to reproduce and survive by refusing to leave this world. From a certain point of view, the life of the hidden master is to live for others, and if the secrets in his mind are not revealed, he will not be able to truly live for himself for a day. You see, in the hearts of those heroes who cut flesh and sacrificed their lives, how could they ever regard themselves as simple people? They live to dedicate themselves to the public at all times, to abandon the small self to run to the big self, and to abandon their selfish interests to feed the public......"

The more Caidan Dajie continued, the more confused Guan Wen became.

He quickly sorted out his thoughts, but what he got was only a vague conclusion: "Caidan Dajie is a hidden master?" The one who died in the shrine was also the hidden master? They contributed their bodies to something, but to whom did that body contribute? In addition to Caidan Dajie, there is another person in the tree hole. If that man is the legendary Tree Master, where is he? Why didn't ......"

"I'm also a hidden treasurer." Caidan Dajie lifted the dangling monk's robe and showed Guan Wen the terrifying scar like a broken wood on his right shoulder.

Guan Wen gasped: "Master, how did you lose this arm?"

Caidan Dajie looked down at his shoulders with twisted muscles and chapped skin, and turned a deaf ear to Guan Wen's question, as if he had been immersed in a long memory.

"Dangdang dang dang, dang dang", the bell on the side of the Tantric Temple rang again rapidly.

The bell woke up Caidan Dajie, he put down his monk's robe, the corners of his mouth twitched a few times, and said slowly: "I cut it myself."

Guan Wen was speechless because he couldn't imagine how much courage it would take for a person to cut off his own arm.

"The bell is ringing so quickly, is the sky really going to fall?" Caidan Dajie said to himself.

"May I pay homage to the Tree Master?" Guan Wen asked in a low voice.

Caidan Dajie shook his head: "Not yet, it's not the time."

Guan Wen frowned and continued to ask: "Then when is it appropriate?" I had a big doubt in my heart and wanted to ask him in person. ”

Caidan Dajie shook his head again: "When the time is right, you will naturally know."

Guan Wen was stunned, suddenly raised his head, and shouted in a long voice: "Master Tree, please answer me, between heaven and earth, water and wood, who is more important?"

No one responded, only the sound of bells, chanting, and beating instruments from the Tantric Courtyard came one after another.

"The water is soft to yin, living in seclusion underground, carrying everything. How can wood survive without water? I'm asking for someone else, please answer, water or wood, who is more important?" Guan Wen asked again, but the tree master who had spoken before was silent, as if he had already left.

The courtyard was empty, and Guan Wen's echo rushed and fluttered for a while, then gradually disappeared, without provoking any reaction.

"Who is more important? In my opinion, the question itself is not important. Caidan Dajie's lips moved.

"Are you talking, or is the Tree Master talking?" Guan Wen stared at the other party's mouth.

"It's me." Caidan Dajie said as he turned around and walked towards the courtyard, breaking away from the shadow of the tree hole and standing in the sun.

Guan Wen was about fifteen steps away from the other party, but in an instant, the two of them seemed to be far away from the Three Realms of Yin and Yang. When Caidan Dajie went farther and farther, he himself was in endless perdition.

"Master, wait for me." He screamed.

Caidan Dajie spread his left arm in the sun, looked up to the sky, suddenly pursed his lips, and blew a sharp and long whistle. Immediately, he shook the monk's robe and spun up, laughing as he turned: "I'm free, I'm free, I'm finally free......"

Guan Wen felt that his heart was sinking step by step, and a thousand pounds of weight seemed to be pressed on his shoulders, making it difficult for him to move.

He took a step forward, an invisible resistance in the air, intertwined in front of and behind him.

With a buzz, a heavy and sad chanting sound suddenly came from his ear drums, and that passage was still about the story of "The Corpse King Sacrificed His Life to Save the Pigeon" and "The Prince of Sata Sacrificed His Life to Feed the Tiger". The voice was not made by one person, but by more than a dozen people in unison, and the sound came from the small alcoves where the miniature corpses were stored.

He turned to see that the face of the corpse in the alcove was gradually enlarged, and his lips, teeth, and tongue were moving.

Guan Wen screamed, struggled forward, broke through the invisible barrier, and arrived at Caidan Dajie's side.

Caidan Dajie stopped dancing, strode forward, and pushed the door in.

Guan Wen followed up and saw that the walls, floor, and roof of the room were full of all kinds of hand-drawn paintings. He is a painter, and after only a few seconds of reading, he understands that these are the works painted by the best masters, and each stroke carries a heavy torture that confronts the soul.

"Good, good, great, great!" He couldn't help but let out a low cry and approached a picture of chanting under the moon on the side, but suddenly realized that what he was stepping on was another picture of crossing hell. Not far away, there is another picture of the snow-capped mountain eagle and snake fighting with complex strokes and far-reaching meanings.

His eyes were completely insufficient, and one of his steps hung in mid-air, and his whole body was confused by the treasure pictures in the room, and he kept shouting in his heart: "How can there be so many masterpieces here?" What they painted, I couldn't draw in my whole life. So what's the point of my paintings? What's the point of my life?"

He knew early on that mankind's pursuit of art is endless, and there are mountains outside the mountains and heavens outside the sky. No matter how talented a person is, there will always be an end to his achievements, and there will always be a day when he can't do anything. He originally thought that if he worked hard day and night, he would definitely be able to achieve something, stand out among thousands of painters, and become a generation of masters. At the very least, before entering this room, he still had a little conceit in his heart, because he could indeed reproduce other people's spiritual stories in his writing. Now, he knew he was wrong, like a frog at the bottom of a well, and all he saw was a small round piece of sky at the mouth of the well.

Naxie uses the paints and techniques of traditional thangka painting, but the canvases used are directly on the walls, floors, and beams, and large pieces of colorful pigments are applied to the rough original earth, stone, and wood materials, presenting another thrilling power.

If you think the network is good, share this site more, thank you readers for your support

,！