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Wuxu, Zhang Cuilu, He Qifeng and others, took the turtle prime minister, circled the east of Fusang, and finally landed on Nagasaki Island in the west. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 Along the way, everything was as usual, the docks were very busy, the narrow streets, all kinds of people had rich expressions, and the gambling taverns were also opened lively, a lively scene, as if completely unaffected by the faint death that hung over the sky. Occasionally, you can also see people in the cultivation, swaggering, and no one in their eyes swaggering through the market.

Wu Xuan sensed it carefully, and once again confirmed that the dead air in the air was exactly the same as the dead air released by the bronze coffin he encountered at sea that day. However, when Wu Xuan wanted to explore the source of this dead air, it was like a salty smell in the air, everywhere and without a source. Wu Xuan deduced that there should be a great monk who hid the bronze coffin in an extremely clever way, deliberately leaked its breath, and made it everywhere. It's just that in this way, the entire Dongying Fuso is shrouded in death, and all those who are here, whether ordinary or monks, have suffered unjustified disasters.

Wu Xuan secretly observed that all ordinary people were contaminated with that dead qi, and the vitality in their bodies was slowly draining away at an obvious rate. As for the cultivators, they have spiritual power to protect their bodies, but they have never been contaminated, but in the midst of it, those who do not cultivate high seem to become subtly violent and ferocious.

This cannot but be said to be strange. It stands to reason that this dead breath should not be said to be a person in cultivation, but also a layman, and it should be more or less inductive. To use a simple analogy, this day is gray and gloomy, and even three-year-old children will naturally feel bored and depressed. But everyone didn't seem to notice it, and they looked like they were turning a blind eye.

The sellers shouted loudly, the buyers slowly and methodically selected, and bargained in a low voice from time to time; bursts of shouts rang out from the gambling house, and from time to time there were loud shouts, wild laughter, and the sound of teacups falling to the ground; in the restaurant, a rich fragrance wafted out, and the men hunched their waists and lowered their heads, shuttling between the many seats, like slippery fish. And those cultivators, whether human or demon, had heavy faces, unconsciously restrained their own aura, and their eyes inadvertently revealed a trace of murderous intent from time to time, with the meaning of not saying a word, fighting for life and death.

The sky is gloomy, surrounded by the vast sea, but the people on the island seem to be enjoying themselves, and no matter how you look at it, there is an indescribable mystery. Wuxu originally wanted to go to Cuixiangju to find out about Meng Ze, but when he got closer, he suddenly thought of the two subordinates who had killed him with Zhang Ruoyue before, so he entered another inn with everyone. Before I entered the door, I saw several groups of guests, disheveled with luggage, walking out one after another.

He Qifeng found one of the people dressed in the Central Plains and asked, "Dare to ask the guest officer, why did you travel in such a hurry?" The man, dressed smartly, with a fishy smell on his body and a dark face, seemed to be a perennial sailor. He glanced up at He Qifeng, then turned his head to look back at the inn, and then walked briskly past He Qifeng, and said in a low voice, "Someone wants to charter the inn, and if you don't want to die, you have to check out." Before he could finish speaking, a white light flew out from the inn. Wuxu and the others saw that the man fell to the ground, did not even snort, and never got up again.

"In broad daylight, he is so domineering!" Rao is He Qifeng is extremely sophisticated, but he couldn't help but say to Wuxu in a low voice.

"I don't kill Beren, but Beren dies because of me. Zhao Qiuhe, with an angry face, stood at the door, looked inside and said loudly.

The guy at the inn was so frightened that he was so frightened that he babbled and hid when he saw that the white light killed people without seeing blood, and he heard the words of He Qifeng and Zhao Qiuhe.

At this time, a voice sounded from the depths of the inn and flew steadily to everyone's ears, "It turned out to be an old man." When you meet someone in a foreign country, why not go inside. ”

He Qifeng, Zhao Qiuhe, and Zhang Cuilu and others were suddenly startled, and the Buddha's light flashed on their bodies, and they were all on alert. In order to prevent the infection of death qi, everyone secretly sacrificed the nine-leaf green lotus lamp, aroused the Buddha's breath, and spread it around. This voice seems to be diluted and peaceful, but it actually makes the Buddha's breath turbulent and appears as light.

"Master Wuxu, it seems that there are real people or true spiritual cultivators in it. Zhang Cuilu, secretly transmitted the voice to Wuxu. She couldn't be sure, and she intuitively felt that the other party's cultivation was very high.

Wuxu didn't answer, but with a solemn face, he saluted with his palms in the inn, and said loudly, "Thank you for your kindness." I waited for the people of Buddhism, on the orders of the sect, to come here to resolve the catastrophe, and I hope that my predecessors will guide me. ”

Inside the inn, there was silence. After half a ring, the voice sounded again, "Buddhism has a saying, and troubles are Bodhi." The so-called catastrophe is not a great blessing. “

Wuxu was speechless, and then left with He Qifeng and others, and no longer looked for an inn, and went straight out for more than ten miles, walking to a sparsely populated place before stopping. After wandering for a while, I met a woodcutter and heard that there was a temple on the nearby mountain, called Lanruo Temple. Wuxu sighed, and led everyone to Nalanruo Temple.

The rugged mountain road is several miles, everyone came to the mountain gate of Lanruo Temple, knocked lightly for a long time, and then there was a powerful novice who opened the temple door for half a minute, and looked at Wuxu and others vigilantly. Wuxu and others showed the atmosphere of Buddhism, and after some comparison, they were taken to the temple by the novice in the temple. As soon as I entered the temple gate, I saw a group of monks, wearing local style white monk robes, holding swords, standing in a ring. One of them, dressed in a coarse cloth robe, clasped his palms and smiled at everyone, but there was a glimmer of light in his eyes.

Wu Xuan hurriedly put his palms together, saying that he was a disciple of Middle-earth Buddhism, only because of the war, he went to sea to travel, and only landed on the island yesterday, and wanted to spend a night here. At this time, Wuxu was dressed in Buddhist costumes, while Zhang Cuilu and others were dressed in secular clothes, and their respective momentum was also reined in, as if they were a mixed combination of going to sea to avoid disasters.

Fortunately, the presiding officer in the temple, the law name Yuantong, proficient in Chinese, communicate effortlessly, slightly ask about the situation, and see that Wuxu and others are mediocre, so he ordered the left and right to collect the blade, and welcomed Wuxu and others politely into the guest room.

After sitting down, what Yuantong ordered someone to send was just a cup of Qingwei Mountain Spring. Wuxu and the others, who are used to living a life of coarse tea and light rice, don't care about it, plus they have just walked a lot of mountain roads, and they are a little thirsty, so they have drunk a lot in one gulp. Seeing this, Yuantong and his left and right faces became a little more enthusiastic, and for a while, the atmosphere was invisibly much better.

Wuxu sipped the mountain spring in the cup and chatted casually with Yuantong while looking around. This Yuantong, as well as the few monks sitting opposite, are all cultivators, but their realm cultivation is not high. Yuantong, as the host, is only the appearance of five or six layers of mortal dust. Looking at the buildings inside and outside the house, although it is very new, it has been built in the last year or two, but it is low, narrow and simple, and the temple was selected on the top of the mountain for the sake of flat terrain, and the mountain wind blows from all sides, with a humid and salty smell, which is really hard. It seems that they are a bunch of ordinary penances with no power and no background.

After observing for a while, Wuxu took the initiative to mention the heavy death that shrouded the sky. The Yuantong host heard the false question, his face darkened slightly, and he recited the Buddha's name, "This is a cycle of cause and effect, and it is caused by calamity." ”

Wu Xuan asked in surprise, "What is the cycle of cause and effect, and what is the cause of calamity?" I didn't want to be silent, and under Wuxu's repeated questioning, he said, "Don't hide it from all of you, I am in Fusang, although I am an island country, I have always enjoyed myself." However, since the decline of the Han Dynasty and the establishment of the Yuan Court, disasters have been repeated. First, there were Mongolian iron horsemen, who took a big ship to cut down, but fortunately there was a kamikaze and was saved. The Yuan Court is in decline, and the East China Sea Demon Clan is out again, the Divine Palace, Biyou Palace, Haiku Temple, and the Confucian Academy that is said to be the true son of heaven Zhu Yuanzhang. ”

"How?" asked Wu Xu, puzzled. The so-called Divine Palace, Biyou Palace, Haiku Temple, and what Confucian Academy, Wuxu knows, but to say that it caused the catastrophe of Dongying Fusang seems to be exaggerated. What kind of causal cycle is this, and what is the cause of calamity?

Probably because of the identity of the Tuhan people among Wuxu and others, Na Yuantong smiled, but did not answer. Under Wuxu's repeated questioning, Fang said lightly, "What is the reason why you go to sea to avoid disaster?" After a pause, he chanted, "In all worlds, the living will die. Although the life span is immeasurable, it must be endless。。。。。。 Suddenly there was a chanting in the room.

This Buddha poem, from the "Great Nirvana Sutra", is more than 200 words. Yuantong speaks Chinese, while the rest of the monks are Japanese. The sound of chanting like this, in the middle of the night, was low and long. Wuxu and the others listened silently, only feeling indescribably weird.

It was night, Wuxu and others stayed in this Lanruo Temple.

In the middle of the night, the stars are hidden, and the moon is gone. Wuxu and the others, but they didn't feel sleepy, and sat cross-legged together. Yuantong recites this Buddha's verse, alluding to the imminent disaster of the war in Dongying Fusang, and there is a catastrophe of life and death. Although Wuxu and the others paid attention, they became even more confused. Their cultivation is mediocre, and they don't even know the source of this dead qi, which shows that there are many elements of random speculation. But why is it concluded that it is a war disaster, not a natural disaster such as an earthquake and tsunami? Divine Palace, Biyou Palace, Haiku Temple, although these forces have their own subordinates, they are all supported by the East China Sea Demon Clan, and open and secret battles are inevitable, but starting a war is probably a bit exaggerated. Speaking of the so-called Zhu Yuanzhang's Confucian Academy, could it be that Zhu Yuanzhang wanted to attack Fusang in Dongying? Mo said that there is no historical record in later generations, even the current situation in the Middle Earth Continent, and it is impossible for Zhu Yuanzhang to send troops on an expedition across the sea。。。。。。

Wuxu and others used their divine sense to transmit the sound, and discussed for a long time, and finally only came up with the word strange. The mountain wind is whining, and the chanting of the monks of this Lanruo Temple seems to be still echoing in the ears. Suddenly, the small door at the back of the temple creaked, and it seemed extremely harsh in the silence of the night.

Wuxu and the others swept away, but they saw a group of Dongying people, including men and women, and there were more than 100 people. Although there is a difference in Chinese and Japanese clothing, it can still be clearly seen that most of these people wear filial piety. Between them, many people with torches or small lanterns gathered around a wooden coffin and slowly walked in. The wooden coffin, carried by four men in the prime of life, swayed gently with their footsteps and the low sound of their trumpets, and flickered in the light of the fire. They didn't make a single cry, but they all had straight faces, a little sad, a little gloomy, and a little numb, and a few of them didn't care, looked around, and even occasionally subconsciously made strange faces or strange movements.

Wuxu frowned slightly. These people, Wuxu is still seeing them in the daytime today, and they have a relationship. Those who were a little more well-dressed seemed to be the shopkeepers of some shops. The ragged and trembling person should be the beggar who Wuxu and others had given alms. The middle-aged man with his eyes slightly closed, his hands folded, and the words in his mouth were the ones who sold food on the street. There were also a few samurai with flashing eyes and a sword pinned to their waists, as well as the woman with a miserable white pink face and bright red lips, all of whom had passed by Wuxu and others on the street.

These people who were alive during the day, under the command of Yuantong and others at this moment, all stood quietly in their positions, facing the wooden coffin, without saying a word, like clay sculptures. Several monks lightly brought a long table and placed it in front of the wooden coffin. Then there were several monks, holding Buddha statues, incense burners, flowers, and fruit bowls, and placed them on the long table one by one. Flowers and fruit bowls are placed on both sides of the incense burner, and the Buddha statue is placed behind the incense burner.

Yuantong wore a robe and walked to the front of the long table, about to light the incense sticks in the incense burner. A monk walked up to him and whispered something. Yuantong turned his head and glanced at the place where Wuxu and the others lived, then shook his head. The monk stepped aside.

A faint cigarette smoke rose, and Yuantong immediately led the monks in the temple to chant aloud. Immediately afterward, those who had just walked in through the back door of the temple began to hum softly.

This time, YTO also spoke Japanese. Yes, Wuxu listened to it for a while, and then he heard that Yuantong was chanting the mantra of the past life, and it turned out that they were doing things and doing excesses for the deceased.

Wuxu couldn't help but smile slightly. I thought I was doing something, how did I get on the island, and all kinds of people I saw on the island sneaked up the mountain and entered the temple at night, behaving like ghosts. On the other hand, Yuantong and the others were a little secretive, so they had to let these people in through the back door of the temple at night. Although for Buddhist practitioners, it is a little unpopular, a little cheesy, and a little "a little unprofessional" for the sake of money and food.

The Japanese version of the Death Mantra echoes in the night sky. Wuxu didn't understand Japanese, so he put down his original obsession with the pronunciation of the Chinese characters of the mantra and listened quietly. Sometimes if you don't understand, you really understand. Every syllable, like the sound of the wind blowing in the ears, like a mountain spring flowing in the heart. Wuxu even felt that he had forgotten this spell and that spell, and only had one thought, one thought.

A glimpse of light, colorful, in front of you, in front of you.

A soft sound, like a beautiful song of yesteryear, is in the ear.

A taste of fragrance, seems to be there or not. The floral aroma, the wine aroma, the rouge powder aroma are on the tip of the nose, on the tip of the tongue, on the flesh, and in the heart.

In all worlds, the living are to death. Life and death, to be thoroughly involved and to be able to penetrate, is the practice of Buddhism. It is for Nirvana, and I am always happy。。。。。。

Wu Xuan was participating and investigating, when Zhang Cuilu, He Qifeng and others suddenly transmitted their divine senses, "Master Wu Xu, how do you feel that this transcendent Dharma thing is weird?"

Wu Xu's heart was suddenly startled, and he raised his eyes to look. At this moment, Yuantong and other monks of Lanruo Temple are still leading those ordinary people to chant the mantra of the past life, but there are a few more people dancing around Yuantong. These people, their faces painted in various colors, dressed like acrobats, some held a bright blade, some rotated paper fans, some raised their heads and roared at the sky with big wine glasses, and some desperately shook their heads and threw their long hair wantonly on the wooden coffin.

This is nothing, the Dharma is myriad, and it is convenient with the root organs of all beings, temperament, chances, etc. But the reason why Wuxu did not respond to Zhang Cuilu, He Qifeng and others was that Wuxu obviously sensed that the person in the wooden coffin had long since disappeared before he came to this Lanruo Temple. According to Buddhist terminology, the bardo body has long since ceased to exist. Wuxu hadn't investigated it in detail before, but he had practiced Guru Padmasambhava's "The Secret Method of Hearing and Teaching the Bardo" Wuxu was confident that if it was the soul of the deceased, or the bardo body, during this time in Lanruo Temple, no matter what kind of rebirth, it would be impossible to escape his own induction.

Of course, Yuantong and others, the realm cultivation is not enough, they may not have induction, they may just read from the book. But as a spellcaster, the spell that is cast, whether it is successful or not, should be able to sense it.

While Wuxu was staring at it carefully, Na Yuantong suddenly stopped chanting, took a bunch of sandalwood from a monk who walked to his side with relief, pinched it in his hand, bowed to the wooden coffin, and then solemnly inserted it on the incense burner on the top of the long table. The rest of the monks also stopped reciting the mantra of rebirth, and some proclaimed the Buddha's name more than once. Those ordinary Dongying people, after seeing Yuantong inserting incense into the incense burner, also stopped humming, and unconsciously slowly surrounded Yuantong and the wooden coffin containing the dead.

At this time, YTO began to speak again. It's loud, but it's a pity it's Japanese. The tone is abrupt, sometimes rapid, sometimes soothing. It feels like preaching, mobilizing, or brainwashing. When there were only ashes left in the incense burner above the long table, Yuantong Fang stopped talking, and stood there with a tired face, standing with his palms together. Those ordinary Dongying people, after also standing silently, walked around the wooden coffin in an orderly manner, and walked out of Lanruo Temple through the back door in turn. In a few moments, he was almost completely gone, disappearing into the winding mountain roads and the deep night. Only a few of them, who seemed to be close relatives, were still standing next to the wooden coffin, looking very sad, but it was not long before they left. The coffin was immediately removed by the monks in the temple. Yuantong and the others also dispersed.

Wuxu shook his head slightly. The body of the bardo is long gone, and tonight's play is just a farce of feudal superstition.

After fasting on the morning of the second day, Wuxu thought about it, and then mentioned to Yuantong the events of last night, implicitly pointing out that the truth should not be concealed, and the benefactor who worshiped the Buddha and respected the Buddha was deceived. Na Yuantong was silent, and only after a long time did he sigh, "The deceased was originally a local warrior of ours, and the great monk who crossed the sea from Yingtianfu at the Penglai Inn yesterday turned his aura into a sword, pierced his body, and slashed his soul. “

The guys at the Penglai Inn? The great monk who came to Tianfu yesterday?。。。。。。

Wu Xu's heart moved, and he was about to speak. Na Yuantong said again, "Senior Brother Wuxu also came to Fusang Nagasaki Island yesterday, and he also went to the Penglai Inn to stay, so he should know how powerful and domineering the monk sent by Ying Tianfu is. ”

Yuantong's so-called great monk who came from Tianfu, Wuxu naturally knew. Yesterday, Wuxu saw the invisible white light, and he already knew it. In terms of Tianfu, the real monks who guard Yangzhou Mansion, the masters of Confucianism, and the true monarch of Xuanyi are also. In the Ruifu Building of Yangzhou Mansion, in the courtyard, Wuxu had fought with him, and was delayed by one of them, but Cheng Song was killed by Xuan Lingzi and others.

At the Penglai Inn mentioned in Yuantong's mouth, Wuxu and Xuanyi Zhenjun had already recognized each other, but neither side said it explicitly, and deliberately vaguely passed it. Wuxu was worried that his whereabouts would leak out and be hunted down by the true spirit monk of the Quanzhen Sect, while Xuanyi Zhenjun saw Wuxu's skills revealed in the assassination in Yangzhou, and as a Confucian monk, he was afraid of the two major forces of Buddhism and Taoism.

"Unexpectedly, the deceased in this wooden coffin was actually killed by Xuanyi Zhenjun。。。。。。 When Wu Xuan was thoughtful, Yuantong's voice rose again, "If the deceased is like this, how can the living be worthy? This is cause and effect, this is the calamity!" In the midst of sorrow, there was deep helplessness.

Wuxu couldn't help but look towards Yuantong. I saw Yuantong's eyes slightly closed, and his palms were facing the sky. There is a thick dead air floating in the sky, which seems to be weak, but after looking at it for a long time, it feels as thick as a mountain.

Looking at Yuantong, who looked pained and helpless, Wuxu's eyes immediately appeared in front of those Dongying people who had gone up the mountain to participate in that ritual last night.

At this time, the Dongying people are also tragic enough. Dongying Fusang, from ancient times to the present, because of geographical reasons, surrounded by the sea, earthquakes, tsunamis and other natural disasters are continuous, there is a kind of trapped beast-like islander mentality, the appearance is introverted, respectful and courteous, but in fact it is more irritable, even fierce, life and death at will.

At this time, many monks of different countries and races are rampant on the island, calling for wind and rain, and living and dying at will. In addition, the light gray clouds that have appeared in the sky recently have covered the sky and the sun and have lasted for a long time, which makes these people have a bad premonition.

Wuxu could see that the dead samurai should be extraordinary and prestigious among the local Dongying people, otherwise there would not be all kinds of people who came to pay respects late at night. It's just that such a warrior who is revered and has high hopes was casually fingered by Xuanyi Zhenjun, and he turned into a sword with spiritual energy, and he died so much that he couldn't die anymore. If it is really the deceased, how can the living be worthy?

Tonight's ritual of the Dongying people is not so much about the supernatural of the dead, but more about the supernatural self, and more like a collective consolation or prayer. Although they usually do their own roles and things, laughing and scolding a lot, their faces become dull and hateful in the dead of night, like a soulless shell. The so-called heart has despaired, blurring the boundary between life and death, and it seems that he can die at any time, just for the legendary afterlife?

Wu Xuan thought about it carefully, from the previous pitiful, suddenly shuddered, only to feel that this Lanruo Temple seemed to have countless ghosts, extremely gloomy.

That's right

The dead air is deep and people are not suspicious, and the mountain wind is whining and chanting urgently.

The mantra of the past life is repeated thousands of times, only to ask for the heart to be silent in the next life.

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