At this time, there was a "chirping" bird cry from the thorn bushes on the side of the road, and Wangfu stretched out a pair of red and swollen arms to the tall monk, but he caught a glimpse of a gray bird drop on the monk's robe, he didn't care about this, only about his own condition. He said, my arms have been treated several times by a man named Jin Tie in the village on the back side of the mountain, but it has no effect, and it has recurred, and it is itchy and uncomfortable. Jin Langzhong said that this was a disease of evil and could not be cured.

Wangfu looked at the monk, his fingers kept tickling, and his mouth kept talking, the last time I came to Qinglong Temple, you also told me, if you can't cure this disease, come to you again.

Amitabha. Donor, your evil disease is difficult to cure, if it is not cured, the poisonous gas will attack the heart, and your life will be in danger. As soon as the tall monk spoke, he was alarmist.

Wangfu was frightened, his face was like dirt, he knelt down on one knee, kowtowed to the tall monk three times in a row, and still knelt and said, begging the monk to save me.

I can't save you, you can only save yourself from this evil disease. Kneel in vain, and kowtowing will not help. The tall monk heard the chirping of birds, turned and walked over, and grabbed a small bird with brown feathers from the thorn bushes. The bird's left wing was injured and fell, unable to fly. The tall monk held the poor bird in his palm and walked up to Wangfu, who had already stood up, and said that the bird had just been rescued from the snake's mouth. Wangfu was surprised: Why did you save the bird?

Amitabha, my Buddha is compassionate, and all sentient beings should be rescued when they are in trouble.

Why can't I be cured of my illness?

It's not that he can't be treated, but the donor is suffering from a disability and must save himself. The tall monk held the bird in his hand and turned around and walked in the direction of Qinglong Temple.

Wangfu quickly walked in front of him: May I ask the monk, can you make it clear that I need to save myself from this evil disease, how can I save myself? I hope to give me some guidance.

The tall monk saw that Wangfu was in a sincere mood to ask for help, so he asked him to take the injured bird, Wangfu held it with both hands, and the bird still "chirped" non-stop. The tall monk cleared his throat and said, "Donor, in the past life, because of you, your accomplice burned a nest of wasps, and the scorpion that bit you was changed by the queen bee who burned to death, and it is inevitable that it will seek revenge on you in this life."

In that case, I can't hide from it. Wangfu with a bird in his hand is so pessimistic.

Of course, there is a way. The tall monk continued to instruct: This injured bird in your hand is also related to you, but it is a bad fate, it is also a wasp in a nest of wasps burned to death by your accomplices, it and its swarm brothers have not disappeared, after death, its soul is transformed into other animals, as soon as there is a chance, it will take revenge, and the process of revenge is the process of the donor's karma, this little bird has no chance to retaliate against you now, if you can save it, that is to say, the wound on the bird's wing has been healed by you, you release it back to nature, There is a possibility that your condition will get better because you have eliminated a little bit of sinful karma. Of course, your red, swollen and itchy arm must be completely healed, and you must insist on releasing it.

At this moment, Wangfu felt itchy and uncomfortable, put the injured bird on the palm of his left hand, and his right hand was free to scratch it. The bird's wings were injured, but its other functions were still healthy, and it looked at the lupus erythematosus on Wangfu's left wrist, and pecked a few times with its sharp beak from time to time, and the pecking was not painful. Wangfu just hated the itchy lupus erythematosus, and hoped that the bird could peck at his scrapie. Wangfu thought luckily.

The tall monk saw that Wangfu was still standing in front of him, and said that the donor should give way! Wangfu retreated to the side of the road, saying that the benefactor was willing to follow the guidance of the monk and work hard to heal the injured bird until it was released back into nature.

Amitabha, the benefactor is kind and sudden, my Buddha is compassionate, good, good. The tall monk finished speaking and walked straight in the direction of Qinglong Temple.

Wangfu held the bird over a few mountains and returned home, the bird made a "chirp" sound, the blind mother thought that her son had caught a chick and came back, and teased: Wangfu, when you mixed some outside, you couldn't get famous, how did you think of raising chickens?

Mom, it's not like that. Wangfu didn't want to tell the truth, so he made up a lie: This is not a chicken, it is a precious bird given to me by a friend, and it can be sold for money when it is raised.

The mother didn't ask anything more, and was very happy to hear Wangfu's words. She wanted to be rich, and when Wangfu walked out of the door, she approached Wangfu's father and talked about the precious bird. Wangfu's father thought that Wangfu hadn't done anything, and sighed and said, don't believe him, don't miss the right thing.

Wangfu went out and took the birds away, they couldn't see it, but they felt it, and there was no bird call at this time. When my mother heard Wangfu's father say this, she seemed to have lost confidence in Wangfu. The couple is blind and relies on government relief, but they are very worried about their son, he is a normal person, he does not work hard to learn a skill, today he learns these half-hearted, tomorrow he learns that five minds, what will he rely on in the future! The mother expressed this concern, but Wangfu's father did not say a word.

It was summer, it was hot, Wangfu's father was barebacked, sitting in the house without moving, his body was also sweaty, and there was a little itch, which was bitten by Jiaozi, he thought while scratching. Then he suddenly thought that the neighbor had sent a bundle of straw, so he got up and walked to the side of the hall to touch it, and pulled out the straw bit by bit and kneaded it into a straw braid, which the Tujia family called a cigarette pack, and lit it at night, without an open flame, only smoke, which was used to smoke the Jiaozi.

He braided the grass for a while, and his wife came over to help. The couple had been weaving for a while, and they had finished weaving a bundle of straw. Wangfu's father probed with his foot, and there was a large pile of grass braids on the ground.

In the evening, Wangfu returned, and his parents heard the birds chirping again. This time the bird was in a cage, which was given by a bird keeper in the village, and the bird keeper also told him that the bird should be protected from both cats and rats at night, and both animals ate small birds. It is best to hang the cage containing the birds on the beams of the house to be safe.

Of course, Wangfu complied, and he remembered the tall monk's instructions to heal the bird's wounds and release them back into the wild. Therefore, he thought: the bird must not be infested by cats and mice. Wangfu was quite serious, took the injured bird out, asked the village clinic for a little loose anti-inflammatory powder, sprinkled on the bird's injured wings, his red and swollen arms were itchy and uncomfortable, he only instinctively scratched.

When he returned home, he also tried to raise birds, and placed two small wooden tubes in the cage, filled with water and rice respectively, and the birds were in front of people, without eating or drinking, Wangfu put down the bird cage and retreated to the side to peep. After a while, the bird pecked the rice with its pointed beak, took another sip of water, raised its neck high, and repeated the action of eating. Wangfu is happy that he has successfully raised the birds.

At dinner, Wangfu brought the birdcage to the table and looked after the bird, but the bird stopped crying, and it dozed off, unlike a chicken with a cage burying its neck in its wings to sleep, but stood quietly with its eyes closed.

Wangfu was tickling from time to time, and when his father heard the sound of scraping, of course he knew that he was tickling, and suspected that mosquitoes were biting him, so he told him to take a cigarette pack to his room after supper and light a smoked mosquito. Wangfu thought that the bird was afraid of smoke, so he didn't want a cigarette pack. The mother nagged with concern, what should I do if the mosquito bites? When I hear your tickling sound, I'll be anxious for you!

Mom, leave me alone, if the mosquito bites me, shoot it to death. Wangfu didn't want to tell him about the redness, swelling and itchiness of his left and right arms, and if he did, his parents would worry about him.