The sound of the rain was terrible and unnoticed. The wind is miserable, and the liver and intestines are broken. After the old monk released the golden dragon, his face was gloomy, his expression was withered, his hair was even grayer, and his sparse beard was like a withered weed in autumn, a piece of frost, just like the lantern he was carrying, flickering and dark.

"Old man, old man!" the old monk smiled softly, approached the obscure lantern, squinted his cloudy eyes, and carefully looked at the burning red candle, his wrinkled face showing a little tiredness. After a while, he felt that the light was dim, stood up, stretched out his thin fingers, picked up the small copper wire on the table, and plucked the burning filament, only half of the filament, and the fire suddenly brightened, and the room was orange and yellow.

"I thought that I was a monk back then, and I also thought that one day I could learn from those high rollers who fought with swords, green shirts and angry horses, and crossed the river with a reed. But now, when people die, the lights go out, the oil runs out, and the marriage in this life may come to an end. The old monk muttered to himself in a low voice, his face calm. The dim lantern he was carrying in his hand suddenly fell, shedding a lot of wax tears and gradually turning into darkness.

Outside the house, the little monk shouted Master over and over again, but in the room except for the wind buckling the windows and the night rain beating the curtains, there was no other sound, only the Master he had called over and over again echoed here. By the time he shouted, his voice was hoarse and weak. For some reason, he was a little panicked, looking at the suddenly drowsy meditation room, stunned, and unrecognizable.

Wisdom lowered his eyebrows, his trembling fingers ran over the window, and finally he lowered it gently, and there was no movement. The two phases were silent, and there was silence everywhere.

"Abbot, Master, Master, what's wrong with him" The little monk raised his immature little face, tears in his eyes, and he was a little distressed. But after all, he is still a teenager, and he is at the age when he doesn't know how to worry, how can he understand the truth that the lights go out when people die, and the way of life and death disappears. So at this moment, his immature little face was just aggrieved and sad, and he only thought that he had made some mistake that made the master blame, so it was like this.

Wisdom sighed softly, but after all, he did not speak.

He raised his little face, and when he saw that the abbot was ignoring him, he turned around and cried out, "Master, I know it's wrong. In the future, I will definitely eat less, recite more sutras, go to the back garden to weed frequently, and go to the Luohan Hall more to participate in meditation. Master, forgive me. He wiped tears from his face, and his eyes were full of longing.

The room was still silent, and it was dull. Nothing but the occasional flash of lightning streaked across the sky.

Wisdom couldn't bear to look any more, he reached out and pushed open the closed door, turning silent. The little monk didn't wait to say hello to the master, ran quickly to the master, looked at the old monk who was squatting and silent, and couldn't hold the inch.

He approached softly and tentatively shouted a few times to the master, but the old monk's kind eyes were the same as before, no different from ordinary days, but at this moment, there was only a little less vitality of the living. The echo in the room vibrated and there was no answer for a long time, only the immature children's voice of the little monk answered his shouts over and over again.

"Mercy!" The plain-clothed monk standing outside the door looked desolate, and he recited the Buddha name that he was used to shouting, and said sadly.

The little monk looked anxious, seeing that the master was speechless for a long time, and he was a little unsure, so he had to turn around and walk a few steps quickly, grabbed the wise monk who had always been known for his compassion, and asked anxiously: "Abbot, what's wrong with him, Master? What's wrong? Aren't you the heavenly bodhisattva descending to the mortal dust and vowing to save all sentient beings from suffering, you quickly save Master!" The little monk pulled the sleeve of the wise monk's drooping sleeve, and reached out to wipe the tears on his face.

Wisdom ignores it, and reads it heavily, and he rarely reads the scriptures, which is obscure and difficult to understand. The little monk looked at the serious monk with tears on his face, he hesitated for a long time, only thinking that this was the abbot's test for himself. He said seriously: "Abbot, you have mispronounced here and here, and many scriptures have been omitted by you. But the wisdom on his face showed a rare seriousness in his life, so serious that the little monk pulled his sleeve and begged him, and the snot on his face was rubbed on his plain monk's robe, and he was unconscious.

After the monk finished reciting the scriptures peacefully, he lowered his eyes and looked at the little monk's little face like a cat, sighed softly, and left slowly.

"Good rain knows the season, it's not too early to be spring, and I'm not too late to be autumn" Wisdom smiled softly, took off his plain monk's robe, bowed a handful of rain, he wiped a wrinkled old face, and rushed into the heavy rain.

The rain was dripping, and the monk was running in the drifting rain with his bare skin, chanting words in his mouth, and looking crazy like a mad demon.

"The footsteps are leisurely, never looking back, the lightning and thunder, why add me. The monk crawled and walked, neither discerning his own location nor thinking about his purpose, but reciting the incomplete scriptures and laughing. In the short time he had been doing this, he had gradually approached the retreat behind the monastery.

The monk trembled, his body was covered with mud and rain, autumn wind and frost. Finally rolled or climbed to the bottom of the slope, can not stop the unbearable figure, the monk looked down at the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at the dim sky in the distance, stunned. After a long time, a galloping white light pierced the dim sky in the distance, and then a mad roar was heard, which was particularly striking and terrifying in the quiet night.

Wisdom swayed from side to side, he couldn't stop his body from toppling, and fell to the ground, only to see the ground under his feet actually cracked, revealing an old plaque that had been corroded by the rain and moisture.

He squatted down softly, his thin fingers touched the old plaque over and over again, staring at it, feeling a little familiar and a little unfamiliar, and it took a long time for him to show a sudden expression, patting his head and laughing: "Luoren Temple, Luoren Temple, I, Han Zheng, came alone, and went alone, didn't I just respond to the word "Luoren", begging for retreat...... I'm ...... this life He once begged for a retreat word: "Wisdom folds his hands and sits silently in the rain."

In the Luohu view, since Wen Zhiliang has shown his immortal methods again, he will naturally not stop so easily. He took down the yellow scroll next to the statue of the Salvation Heavenly Venerable, his eyes were firm, and he did not flinch again.

"Although the poor path is a monk, and cultivating oneself with less cause and effect is the path, but today the path does not appear, and people are not prosperous. Since I Wen Zhiliang climbed up to Feng Xiantai and received the imperial decree, I am in this position, then the poor Taoist priest should be in the position and guard his duty" The Taoist priest cut his finger, and a drop of bright red blood fell down his finger and dripped on the yellow scroll. The imperial decree forbade the triggering, and a mysterious formation pierced the night sky and fell straight down towards the entire Longhai County.

On the stargazing platform in Shouchun City, a tall man held a wide sword at his waist, anxiously going back and forth. The old man beside him with white hair was calm and relaxed, and he leisurely tasted a pot of good hair before the rain in his hand.

"The dignified country, the general with a million-strong brigade in his hands will also be so helpless and restless. The old man laughed softly, and was about to make fun of this great general who had repeatedly lost face in front of His Majesty the Emperor. But before he could speak, the obscure stars that dwelt in the south suddenly brightened and shone in all directions. The old man looked excited, he threw down the kettle in his hand and laughed: "It's done, it's done, my real person of Da Chu has finally become." ”

The man was stunned when he heard this, and looked up at the suddenly bright star in the south, he nodded slightly, and a little smile appeared on his face. "This real person is a real real person, and his posture is extraordinary," he pulled out the sword at his waist and pointed lightly. A very large falcon hovered down from the sky and landed on the man's broad shoulder, combing its smooth and shiny feathers.

"Don't pretend, General. No matter how well you cover it up, how can you hide it from me, a bad old man who has lived for more than a hundred years!" The old man stretched out his sleeve and wiped the water stains from the corner of his mouth, and his old face was full of understanding.

The man looked helpless, he trembled his fingers and touched a secret letter hidden deep in his arms, and with the strength of his hand, the letter of only ten words turned into nothingness.

"Qingrou is fine!" the man whispered to himself, stepping out of the very lonely realm.

"Tell them that the three thousand elite horsemen are standing by and not acting in the slightest way without His Majesty's will. The man's tone was majestic, and a large tree beside him shook softly.

"It seems that Zhang Sude's son is really a little lucky, this kid is not bad, not bad. He whispered to himself, and added, "But after all, I am too angry." He took off a piece of tissue paper from the falcon's feet, read it carefully several times, and added a few small words to it. The falcon screamed and pierced the sky.

The letter reads: Miss Ma Yue Mei Zilin, no more, please die. The man's reply is even simpler, but it is just four words: let her, go wild!

Only 11 characters can adjust thousands of troops, and only 4 characters can stop thousands of troops. This is the great general of Great Chu, Yasukuni Gong, Zhao Hengtong!

......

Let's say that the black tiger slapped down with one claw, breaking through the army, not only smashing the huge banyan tree that I don't know how many years it has grown, but also destroying many treasures of ancient trees in the forest in the aftermath. The boy was unharmed due to the protection of the river carp, and the mountain ape was not too seriously injured due to the help of the woman in red, and he was still holding on to the tattered scabbard at the moment and scolding and saying that he wanted to fight this black tiger for another three hundred rounds.

Zhang Xu looked stunned, but at this time, the injuries on his body were too serious, and he really didn't have the strength to deal with the man, so he could only look at the majestic black tiger with a vigilant expression, and prayed to ask the gods of the sky to go down to the earth to eliminate the demons, and then it was good to send down two heavenly thunders to scare and scare this black tiger. But in addition to the bleak and terrible situation of the demonic spirit, not to mention the heavenly immortals and bodhisattvas, even those fierce beasts that foraged at night did not show their dignity to scare passers-by at this moment, and they were even more frightened by the beasts and flying insects that had opened their holes in the forest, and the big demons and wild charms.

Yuan Kuanliang broke away from the woman in red and grabbed his thin fingers, he stood aside with his trembling body, staring at the next move of the black tiger.

"Obsessed, the grasshopper shakes the tree!" The black tiger said angrily, and once again walked in front of the mountain ape like a deadly god, with a playful expression. It hissed sharply, swallowing rivers and mountains.

Yuan Kuanliang is not a character who sits still, not to mention that since he has come to his senses at this moment, how can the martial artist known as the Southern Ape be willing to tie his hands and make tiger food in vain. He raised the handle of the knife again to make a final struggle, but the woman in red behind him stretched out her thin fingers to caress the man's shoulder, her eyebrows and eyes gentle.

The man's body trembled, holding on to the long knife, and after all, he didn't say the words that he hadn't said for more than ten years.

The woman in red had tears in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth dripped bright red, and she grabbed the man's arm, looking nostalgic and persistent

"Back then, the moon was dusk and the yellow light was like day, but now there are many hardships" The woman whispered softly, thinking that she went down to the south of the Yangtze River in red many years ago, and thinking that the sun was just full of dusk on the eve of many years.

The black tiger opened its mouth and bit it, which was extremely relieved.

In the Luohu view, the Taoist priest was fixed, he looked at the bright stars at this moment, the yang god traveled out of the body for nine days, and held up the formation to envelop the territory of Longhai County for thousands of miles. At the same time, the dragon that was released by the monk with his life also reached the top of the dense forest at this moment to dispel the demons.

At the edge of the forest, the white-haired old man threw away a pot of tea freshly brewed in his hand, he trembled his lips and said: "You, you, you actually ......" The old man said Finally, his expression was gloomy, he drummed up his cultivation, and smashed down with a fist against the gloomy sky, helpless copper cast iron poured, how to shake. The old man hated and jumped to his feet and scolded.