Yu Jin said that this is not true, no one will really believe such a statement, and their own hearts are also very contradictory, they are facing Yu Mu, it is Yu Mu they know, since this is the case, why would they make actions they don't know, there must be something wrong in this, where is wrong, they can't say clearly.

This hatred faded day by day, which made her very frightened, and she began to hate herself in her heart. In order not to forget this hatred, she reminds herself every day.

Gradually, she finds herself troubled by the theories of her fellow villagers about her husband's identity as a "traitor". While his husband was still alive, all the villagers respected him and thanked him for everything he had done for everyone.

This respect changed when his husband was framed, and everyone was secretly talking about his husband, saying that he turned out to be a traitor and lived up to everyone's expectations, but fortunately he was discovered.

This made her very unaware of what kind of person his husband was, and her fellow villagers should know very well that her husband had done so many things that were not worth a piece of paper. On the day of her husband's burial, all the villagers came to see him off, and each of them was very sad, it was really sad, and it was not something that could be pretended. She was relieved that her previous doubts had vanished.

She didn't think it was going to happen, but she was wrong, and for the next few months everyone was talking about his husband, and that suspicion, disdain, was evident when they talked about it, as if everyone had seen him do something bad. This made her heart ache again, and she felt that her husband was not worthy.

What made her strange was that everyone still went to visit her husband's grave on the day of his death, and still helped her mother and son when they were in trouble, and their eyes still showed full sadness and regret. She was completely confused, what was wrong with everyone, which one was true.

This kind of discussion happens for a period of time every year, and some people even ask her what kind of person her husband is. She couldn't stand such discussions, and she couldn't stand the insults of others to her husband, but she was often moved by everyone's help, and her brain was pounding under such fierce contradictions.

She always had nightmares, dreaming that everyone followed her to sweep her husband's grave, and suddenly opened her husband's grave, all the faces were sneering at her, her eyes were full of tenderness, she was awakened by such dreams countless times, almost insane.

This contradiction broke out one night a year after her son's marriage, and the son actually asked what kind of person his father was, why he was killed, why everyone called him a "traitor", and why the villagers always asked about his father, intentionally or unintentionally.

She was desperate at that moment, her heart was completely devoid, she never thought that the words of the traitor would come out of her son's mouth, the doubts, troubles, and hatred that had been wrapped around her mind swelled to the extreme, she felt that her body was getting colder, consciousness was slowly disappearing, the moment she closed her eyes, she saw the kind of eyes in her dream again, she wanted to break free but couldn't use her strength at all.

She had thought more than once that when she died, she would turn into a ghost and go to the people who framed her husband, but she couldn't help but drift home. Everyone was mourning in her mourning hall, everyone's face was full of sadness, and her son almost fainted from crying. Once again, her confusion reached the extreme: these people in front of her were the main cause of her death, and they were also the people who helped her a lot, but who were they?

She floated into everyone's psyche, everyone's heart was red, they were good people, full of good people, but there was a hollow place in everyone's heart, where things flowed and changed all the time, and she didn't know what it was. She suddenly understood that the creatures in front of her were people, very good people, so what were people?

The woman glanced at me, her face was full of confusion, I listened to her quietly, trying to think about the problem she said, but no matter how hard I tried, there was no such shadow in my mind, but I kept repeating a voice in my heart: People are... People are...

The woman was stunned for a moment and continued to say that when she came out of the house, her brain was a mess, and she walked aimlessly into the distance, she didn't know where to go, but instinctively avoided all the people, and then she came to this temple, and lived a life of lonely ghosts, although such days were at a loss, but her heart was a lot quieter, and every day she watched the joys and sorrows of the animals, and gave birth to an urge to stop being human.

Saying this, she smiled: "Actually, I'm not human anymore" There was a helplessness and a hint of joy in her eyes. Originally, she had a chance to be reincarnated, but she felt that she hadn't thought it through yet, so she had to settle down in this deep mountain and old forest, but she didn't expect to see humans again. At dawn she asked me to make a French formula for her, and when I asked her if she had figured it out, she still looked at me helplessly and shook her head.

There are many things that cannot be changed so easily, she has been a wild ghost for a hundred years, and she still has the things she had when she was a human in her bones, deeply rooted. We can't control the outcome of things, because there are so many changes, and none of them is our own.

The Buddha said that people are a very strange kind of beings, they know a lot, which makes them comfortable in the scope of human beings, and it is precisely because of this that they are always attached to things that they don't know, and this attachment is always changing, so they are very confused, they always look at "human" things from the perspective of "people", and because of the change of attachment at the moment, the conclusion is also changing at the moment, and the confusion derived from them is endless.

Before the rhy, the woman knelt before me and prayed: If there is an afterlife, I wish I would be a wooden fish and a Buddha bead in the first life. I am an incense burner, collecting endless pain, just seeking to always accompany the green light.

In the days in the temple, there will be a lot of pilgrims to pray every day, they pious to the Buddha statue, their hearts silently prayed for their wishes, nothing more than to get rid of disease, get rich words, they do not understand karma, what kind of life is mostly their own decision, they are confused, they pray for the blessing of the Buddha, I have been thinking a lot of times, the Buddha said three ways, with evil spirits, beasts as immeasurable suffering, is it much better for people?

When the woman said the prayer, I felt a sense of relief in my heart, and from the beginning I always had a vague feeling that she was still human, and that it was because of this that she was so troubled. At the moment, I still feel that she is alone, but I no longer have the urge to comment. I am also a person, a person who is not very ordinary among ordinary people, and I want to look at my heart and see how big the hole in my heart is. When the French was almost finished, the woman said that she had a moment when she remembered to hurt me.

She smiled as she said this, and smiled so naturally, like a bird singing in the morning, that I thought that her wish would come true, and that we would meet again in the next life. I made another cup of tea at dawn, and the taste of the tea leaves was already very light, but I could still smell a fresh fragrance.

The sunlight shone in through the doorway, and the light on the resting side divided the gloom of the temple into two sections, and countless dust in the sunlight fluttered rapidly, like countless swimming fish in a pond. I walked outside the door, and a warm current suddenly struck in my heart.

The creatures of the mountains and forests began to move, and the birds frolicked in the woods, flying up and down with joyful songs, and sometimes dropping a leaf, which fell in the air, and the birds were even more joyful, and as soon as they spread their wings, they appeared on another tree, leaving behind a string of beautiful notes. The squirrel peeked out of the hole, stared at the fresh world with new eyes, and quickly shrank into the hole, and suddenly sprang out of another tree hole, jumped between the trees, and disappeared into the sea of books.

There are already colorful shadows under the tree, with the shaking of the tree is dazzling, all kinds of flowers and grass, slowly stretching their bodies, from time to time to stroke off a boil, after a while they all become beautiful, or enchanting, or fresh, the world is full of their taste. The pheasant ran quickly through the grass, and then set off a wave of grass, and the partridge was not willing to be lonely, and every once in a while it called a few times, and the sound echoed in the valley... I packed my bags quickly and left quickly, and I was afraid that I would not want to leave after staying in this kind of place for a long time.

The Buddha said that one flower is one world, one leaf is one Bodhi, and the Venerable Jiaye smiled at the Buddha and said that he had attained the Great Dao. Master once taught me that color is emptiness, so why do we have different experiences when we are both Buddhas? I walked out of the mountains and towards the avenue, where my practice should begin.

From the moment I walked on the avenue, my heart was inexplicably restless, much more powerful than listening to the master's explanation of the scriptures, in the Buddha's view, people are spiritual creatures, they can always inadvertently make a certain reaction to someone or something, I feel that something is going to happen.

The town soon appeared before my eyes, a cage surrounded on all sides by high walls, a place where people could be imprisoned, a home that everyone longed for. I'm starting to get confused, we're living the life we yearn for in the cage we've made, and there's something wrong with that, and unfortunately I don't know what it is.

The town was much bigger than the one I had come down a few years ago, with more buzz, more hustle, more men and women yelling, more pork. I was surprised that when I saw pork this time, my heart was as calm as a lake without water, and there was no shadow of a wave at all.

I still stopped in front of the stall, looking at the dead body in a daze, and the first impression that appeared in my mind was that it was a butterfly, which surprised me a lot, and at the same time produced another vague but real scene: butterflies flying in the sky, fat pigs slowly chasing underground.

It was only after a long time that I realized what a beautiful picture this was, more beautiful than a twisted smile, but the Buddha had always understood Bodhi, and I began to care about my troubles. So this impression only existed for a moment and then disappeared without a trace, and no trace was ever found.

The man who sold meat still looked straight at me, but he no longer made a hurry, his eyes were full of inexplicable laughter, and he whispered to another person: "A monk is actually in a daze at pork, looking at him must be a wine and meat monk" After saying this, the two began to laugh unscrupulously. I saluted them and turned to leave.