(a)

Maybe it's because I always talk about the short legs of the little spot, which causes the little spot to rise up from time to time. It's funny, like a soft-boned cat stretching up. It's just that it doesn't know, and it never likes it for a reason, and it doesn't distinguish between high and low. In the first few years of my career, I was thinking about a question that I couldn't solve for a while. Later, my head was about to explode, but I couldn't think of a reason.

I asked Master, I have a doubt that I have been thinking about for several years, and I still can't solve it.

Master asked: Then why didn't you ask me a few years ago?

I said, "Because you often say that time will tell me the answer, but after so long, time doesn't say anything."

Master said, "You only understand half of this.

I'm confused: Oh, what about the other half?

Master said, "Time will tell you the answer, provided you live long enough."

I said, "How long do you have to live long enough?"

Master said, "Older than me."

As soon as these words came out, I knew that I would never hear the answer of time in my life. Master asked me what I was confused about.

I said: Why do beautiful women always like to marry toad-like men?

Master said, "Because of love."

I asked: Where is the love born?

Master said, "Love is born because of money."

I said: Then my second mother also loves my father because of money?

Master said, "Then I have to ask your second mother."

When I was young and ignorant, I invisibly equated love with money in my youthful years. I thought that a woman who loves a man first loves his money, and a man has a lot of money and naturally has a group of wives and concubines. Looking back and thinking about Mr. Lu, he is knowledgeable and eloquent. Not only love beauty, but also study it thoroughly. Such a man can only meet the talented and beautiful women in his pen all day long to relieve his loneliness. Speaking of which, it's only Mr. Lu's trouser pockets that are cleaner than his face. Until I met Satsuki. In the years when I was destitute and had a breeze on my sleeves, she still treated me with deep affection.

We came out of the inn and walked for about an hour or two. The scorching sun is the most vicious. Bai Xiaohua was overwhelmed and let out heavy breathing. And the speed of the little spot is comparable to that of a turtle crawling, and even the earthworm on the ground slowly wriggled and unconsciously surpassed the little spot.

Just as everyone was upset and sweating, there was a sudden commotion ahead.

Spot's expression suddenly fluttered.

Take a closer look. Three women and two men, obviously bullying more and less.

I said, "These two men are so pitiful, no wonder Master often says that the women under the mountain are tigers."

Jiang Hua glared at me.

I said, "Painting is an exception."

Jiang Hua said: If you open your eyes and take a closer look, it is obvious that those two men are bullying those three weak women.

I took a closer look, and although there were no hidden weapons in the corners of the two men's bodies, they were extremely powerful and full of internal strength. Although the three women have one person and one sword, they are also weak. One of them was a woman in pink that I recognized at a glance.

I said, "If I'm not mistaken, they should be Emei disciples."

Jiang Hua asked: Do you know?

I said: I don't know, it's just that the Flying Eagle helped you save you, except for the Emei faction beauties, the rest are all a group of big men, I couldn't help but stare at the Emei faction a few more times.

Jiang Hua said: Just a few eyes?

I said, "From the beginning to the end!" but then there was no trace of these old ladies. I didn't expect to meet here.

Jiang Hua asked: There are many disciples in Emei, how did you recognize these three people?

I pointed to it and said, "Look at the woman in pink."

I said: The main thing is that she is ugly and impressive.

Everyone put on a "this is fine" expression.

(b)

After a few rounds, the female disciples of Emei retreated one after another, and one of the white-clothed and black-gauze women had a string of blood hanging on the corner of her mouth, wanting to break constantly, and was gradually dried by the wind. Bai Feng guessed that the two rough men who didn't know how to pity the fragrance and cherish the jade should be Shaolin disciples. I think the chances of the Wu-Tang faction are a little higher. The reason is that the Wudang faction has long hair, and it is black and shiny, and the luster is very good. We made an argument about it.

Bai Feng said: With bare hands, the internal force is profound, and only Shaolin can do it throughout the martial arts.

I retorted: Their long hair reached waist, which was completely inconsistent with the rules of Shaolin. Shaolin has always been bald.

Bai Feng said: It may be a wig.

As a result, a strong wind blew suddenly, and the wig flew into the air and flew all the way south until it was attached to my head. The two Shaolin disciples were at a loss. For them at this time, having their wig blown away by the wind is the same concept as having their panties blown away by the wind.

I complained: This wig stinks.

Bai Feng said: It may have been taken off the head of a dead man.

I said, "Don't monks advocate compassion?"

Bai Feng said: I have taken wigs to move on women, obviously I don't really escape into the empty door, and naturally I won't abide by the rules and regulations of Shaolin.

I said: A bald scoop is a bald scoop, and a wig with a crown is at most a bald scoop with a wig, and the essence of things will not change in any way. Let me teach this group of fake monks a good lesson, and they dare to vomit blood from beauties.

As I burst out of the layers of intertwined concealments in a fit of rage, the wig was still leaning against my head. It was funny.

The Shaolin disciple was flustered by the wig floating away in the wind, as if he was standing naked on the ground. Unfortunately, I came out of it from the other side of the earth.

I shouted: Shaolin disciples are really full of tricks.

The Shaolin disciple scolded: Where did something come out that didn't have long eyes.

I said, "I have more eyes, and here I am—

I stretched out my hand and pointed to my own hall. A second later, he threw out the golden needle hidden in his fingertips with lightning speed.

But in a moment, the Shaolin disciple who was talking to me a few feet away slowly fell.

The golden needle is in the center of the eyebrows.

Another Shaolin disciple was so frightened that a few drops of urine oozed from his crotch. Although I am not a monk and do not believe in God or Buddhism, I have compassion in my bones. But if you are merciful, human life becomes valuable, and the hateful become lovely.

I shouted, "Go away."

The Shaolin disciple was surprised: You, you don't kill me?

I said, "Do you want to die?"

The Shaolin disciple took a big breath and said: In Xia Long Biao, thank you for not killing today. Dare to ask where the hero is, and I really admire that his martial arts are so superb.

If I were the corpse lying on the ground and running to the Yellow Springs, I would have rushed back from under the Nine Springs, and repaired the guy named Long Biao in front of me. Finally, there is someone on Huangquan Road to keep you company.

I said: I am a disciple of the Lord of the Valley of Despair, Jiangshan.

Long Biao raised his eyebrows and said: It turned out to be a disciple of the jade-faced little white dragon, and it was really extraordinary.

I was shocked: Do you know the jade-faced little white dragon?

Long Biao nodded: I overheard the abbot mention it.

I asked, "Then why did I ask everywhere and no one knew about the jade-faced little white dragon?" and there was a noodle seller who said that he was the jade-faced little white dragon.

Long Biao said: The abbot said that the jade-faced little white dragon shocked the rivers and lakes about three hundred years ago. It is estimated that everyone who knew about him was dead.

I asked: Then why did the abbot know, could it be that he also lived for three hundred years?

Long Biao said: It is recorded in the Tibetan Scripture Pavilion that successive abbots have the habit of writing diaries. It is estimated that the abbot also saw it in the diary of the former abbot.

I think Master has lived too long, and the original acquaintances have been reincarnated for several lifetimes, and Meng Po soup is drinking bowl after bowl, and I can't remember whether Master is a jade-faced little white dragon or a jade-faced little white face.

Long Biao said cautiously before leaving: I have a request.

I said, "It's easy to say anything but women."

Long Biao said: Give me back the wig!