"You don't believe me?" weeping tears in his eyes, and the figure of the dust was also shattered.

"How do you want me to trust you?" Dusty quivered, her lips trembling, her hand hanging at her side clutching the hem of her clothes.

Weeping Ling smiled sadly, and frantically searched for the person who was still awake in the crowd: "You say, is it the person I killed!"

Those little novices had never seen such a situation, from the moment when the bell had beaten them to the point where they were unable to fight back, to the moment when they were like a terrible ghost, they couldn't figure out what was going on, and they were shaking like chaff one by one.

There was an aura of resentment all around the weeping bell, and those Shamen, who were originally arrogant, all shrunk into a ball at this time: "No, no, it's all empty and pure, it's all empty and pure......"

This was originally a fact, but it sounded like a change in the dust, quite like a brother in the same sect who said something against his will because he was afraid of the bell.

"That's enough!" the pain in Dust's eyes deepened, "Ah Ling, I think this is the last time I'll call your name." It's because I'm so stupid, I thought I could get relief by blindly deceiving myself, ten years ...... I think it should be enough for you to forget about me and forget all this, but I didn't expect you to come to such a point. ”

Weichen looked at the weeping bell, and the depression in his heart made his face a little distorted: "But even so, I still can't do anything to you, Ah Ling, I have been doubting a lot of times, you are afraid that you have cursed me, right? Isn't it ridiculous, I'm a monk, because I can't escape my own demons, so I blame you for all the faults." ”

"What if it is the emptiness of sin, or your hand, the abbot is dead, and I will not escape condemnation. In the final analysis, they were all injured because of me, and the abbot also died because of me, and this is all my fault, so let me end all this. After saying that, Mochen sat down directly on the ground, closed his eyes, and began to recite the scriptures silently.

Faint golden words surfaced as Dust's lips opened and closed, sticking to Dust's body one by one, as if someone was holding a pen to write on him.

As soon as her legs were weak, she almost fell to the ground, and she understood that Weichen wanted to die by himself, and he wanted to atone for his sins with his life.

Is it a sin for a monk who wants to love but doesn't dare to love because he has an obstacle in his heart? Or is it because I can't love and I have a deep obsession, so is he guilty?

"Dust, you are so selfish, you still want to leave me to die at this moment. I never wanted to kill someone, and the abbot didn't kill me, maybe you're right, we're all at fault, but aren't these damn dogmas and these greedy people who really deserve to pay it all?"

Kongjing was injured by a weeping bell before he saw it, and he fainted after seeing the dust, and he woke up after this fall.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw that the weeping bell's pale face was expressionless, and the despair in his eyes was stained with blood, and he was really afraid. Compared to the fierce face, this ruthless and desireless sorrow is the true call of death.

"Weichen! Senior Brother, it's me, it's me who framed her, and I killed Master!" Kong Jing felt fear, but at the same time, there was a kind of release of pleasure, he yelled at Weichen: "I hate him, he makes me feel like a failure, he makes me feel worthless, I want to kill him, only by killing him can I let him see me, and I can really have everything from Master when I end his life!"

Kongjing originally wanted to make Weeping Ling spare himself by begging for a mote of dust, but saying all this made him feel unprecedented satisfaction. It seems that it is only at this moment that he really understands what he wants, what he wants, is love.

Kong Jing looked deeply at the abbot's face, where he had felt love, care, and warmth in the world. But later, the warmth on this face was gradually replaced by disappointment and disgust, so that in the end, he could no longer see himself in the eyes of the Master.

It's like I've never existed in this world, I've never been loved.

The air felt cold like never before, accompanied by a deep hatred. He hates the dust and the weeping bell, but in the end his hatred is all on one person. Now that the man is dead, he will no longer have love or hate, nor will he be disturbed by these vain emotions.

He suddenly felt that his whole life was ridiculous, and he didn't expect anyone to understand him. Whether it's ridiculous or hateful, he's free.

Weeping Ling looked at this person kneeling on the ground, and felt very desolate in his heart, they are all people who yearn for love and hate in this Buddhism, who is sadder than whom?

"Weichen, the Buddha can't save me. These people are too dirty, they don't deserve to stay with you. We watched as Mochen's body was gradually covered with golden light, like the golden body of a Buddha.

Weeping bell bit his finger and let the blood flow into the dirt one by one. The grass moistened by blood seemed to have gained infinite vitality, and the grass was stretched several feet long, like a green python emerging from the soil, rejoicing because it had gained temporary freedom.

The land cracked inch by inch, like a hungry beast opening its mouth, eager to devour everything in this world.

The monks were swept in the grass, and before they could escape and exclaim, they were pulled into the earth.

In an instant, the life on this meadow was gone, and all the love-hate entanglements were buried under this Buddha land. Only the faint candle flame of the Tower of Feeling still shimmered, and only the unleveled ground could prove that it had once imprisoned twisted souls.

"It's so nice, it's clean now. Weeping Ling smiled slightly, and half-knelt in front of the dust.

The golden light of the dust was scattered, and the gold dust flew like fireflies shining in the night, and they did not distinguish between you and me, or fell into the soil, or floated to the treetops, and more of them drifted away with the wind.

Weeping Ling closed his eyes and felt the gold dust fall on his body, like the embrace of a mob of dust that he had never had.

"Motes, you're free. Weeping Ling gently stroked the dusty cheeks, and the face returned to its former youthful appearance, but the eyes never opened again. Weeping Ling hugged Weichen and buried his head in his shoulder, but his eyes looked at the golden light that flew farther and farther away: "You still lie to me, you see how much you want to escape from this place." ”

Until you die, I can truly own you and embrace you unbridled.

Weeping Suzu smiled contentedly. Something suddenly occurred to her, and her eyes slicked.

She turned back to the Spirit Tower, and came out a moment later, holding a locust branch in her right hand and a mirror in her left.

It was a very ordinary round bronze mirror, about ten inches long and wide. The pattern on the back has long since eroded and blurred, leaving only a mottled green.

Only the mirror surface is very smooth and bright, and the human face is very clear, as if it is freshly polished.

Weeping Ling pointed the bronze mirror at the dust, and his mouth seemed to be muttering something, and it seemed to be just smiling. She looked at the mirror expectantly, as if she were looking at her lover in another life.

A few shadows gradually appeared on the yellowish mirror, some black, some white, and some faint red, like clusters of small flames.

As soon as the bell was overjoyed, he picked up the locust branch and lightly touched the shadows, and those shadows were sucked out by the locust branch and attached to the branches and leaves.

Weeping Ling picked up the bronze mirror, carefully held the branch, walked back to the spirit tower, shook the branch, and the shadows fell on the branch of the locust tree like water droplets, and finally slowly melted into the trunk.

After those shadows disappeared, the whole locust tree suddenly shook, as if struggling, and as if cheering.

Weeping Ling stroked the locust tree and said softly, "Go, go and get your body back." ”

The locust tree trembled, and its tall and luxuriant branches rustled. Suddenly, all the green bricks on the ground of the Spirit Pagoda were arched, and long brown roots protruded from the soil and flew out like arrows.

The roots of the trees shook off countless sandy soils, and like hungry wolves that had not tasted flesh for thousands of years, they went straight to the flesh of the dust outside the tower with the desire that gushed out of the ground.

The brown ropes tightly wrapped around the dusty body, forming a brown statue that carried a bitter earthy smell and returned to the tower again.

The trunk of the locust tree seemed to turn into soft sand, and countless arms stretched out, slowly pulling the body of the dust into the tree. The body of the mote was eaten away bit by bit, and finally completely converged into the trunk of the locust tree.

The trunk of the locust tree returned to its normal appearance, covered with vertical and horizontal lines, like traces of burning tears rolling down.

The locust tree swayed incessantly, and the weeping bell pressed his face against the mottled trunk, and his tone was softly as if to comfort a crying child: "Okay, now we can be together forever and ever." ”

With a "snap", the door of the Spiritual Pagoda was slammed shut, and everything that happened in the tower was blocked, as if separated from the two worlds of life and death.

There is no need to care about the eyes of the world, there is no Buddha, there is no life and death, nothing can separate us......

A sigh-like voice floated out of the Spirit Tower, and the soft ringing of the bell, even if it was like a heavenly Sanskrit sound, disappeared without a trace in the snap of a finger.

Phantom Wu only felt that he had been swimming in hot water for a long time, and when he was about to lose his strength, he fell into an ice cave again, and the heat all over his body condensed into ice in an instant, and stuck to his body. The heat did not dissipate, and the cold suddenly appeared, enveloping her and unable to move, physically and mentally exhausted.

Phantom Wu stretched out his hand, as if groping for something in the void. "Ah Jue ......" There was no one, no response.

She shook her head, no, it should have come out of the memories of the weeping bell, but where did Ah Jue go?

The memory of the weeping bell was so sad that she, a bystander, felt as if she was carrying a heavy load, and she was exhausted.

Phantom Wu touched something hard, and slowly stood up, the darkness was torn apart, and a wisp of blue and white soft light came into view.

The eaves carved with lotus flowers, the square and frugal window lattices, and the open windows swayed gently in the night breeze. Phantom lowered his head and saw his hand by the window, half hidden in the darkness, half bathed in the moonlight.

This familiar scene suddenly woke her up, wasn't she sitting in her meditation room at the moment?

Could it be that since then, I have entered the memory of the weeping bell?

No, she remembered that she had gone out and been brought back by Changjue, so Changjue could enter the world of memories of Weeping Bell.

Long is by no means fake, so everything at the moment is an illusion!