Romantic affair, but spice.

The pink beauty, no matter how good the years, the years are always ruthless, the shriveled pink peach, and the fungus becomes a plantain.

Chu Bai is just a vest, just to do some things, to facilitate his heart, and not to mess up the order.

Therefore, Chu He, who has been out of the limelight, can still restrain his mind, turn into a debater, return to Hongfu Temple, and continue to tell stories with Master Xuanzang.

Thinking about the world, the journey to the west continues.

The long road, subduing demons and subduing demons, is a journey of purification.

There were disputes, contradictions, and several times on the verge of breaking up, but in the end they came together again.

All in search of an answer.

Walk to the foot of the West Tianling Mountain, only to see the Qihua, Yao grass, ancient cypress, pine, the place passed, every family is good, every household is a monk, every time the people under the mountain practice, and see the forest guest chanting.

The spiritual mountain seems to be close in front of you, but in fact it is far away in the sky, even if you can see the majestic mountain, the four masters and apprentices still walked for six or seven days, and suddenly saw a high-rise building, several floors of Jiege, soaring to the sky, towering in the sky. Look down at the sunset and pick up the flying stars. The open-minded window swallows the universe, the Saga Dongyu connects the cloud screen, the yellow crane letter comes to the autumn tree, and the color luan book is clear to the evening breeze.

The four of them all knew that when they really arrived at Lingshan, they would meet the true Buddha.

Tang Seng hurriedly dismounted and went to knock on the door.

The door opened, but out came a small novice.

Gorgeously dressed, even the children who guard the door, they wear gold and silver, and the Buddhist beads hanging around their necks are also embedded with green jade and agate.

After seeing the four of them in rags and their eyes full of exhaustion, they slammed the door shut.

Tang Seng went to knock on the door again, but heard the innocent voice of Xiao Shami coming from inside the door: "This master, let's go back! Master has said that you can't let sloppy and unruly people pass through this mountain gate, enter the spiritual mountain, and pollute the purity of Buddhism." ”

When Tang Seng heard this, his rough fingers that had already been ground by the wind and sand stiffened.

When he came out of Chang'an, the scepter he brought with him had already been exchanged for gold and silver halfway through, and he bought food and gave it to those who really needed help.

Because he believes that for the Buddha, the outer beauty is all vain, and the radiant heart is the true Buddha nature and goodness.

But at this moment, in front of the door of the True Buddha, the kind people are blocked out of the door, just because of their ragged clothes.

When he turned his head, he saw a line of people with fat brains, and there were still blood stains under his feet, but he knocked on the door with a chest full of jewels, and was welcomed in by the little novice.

"Those who put down the butcher's knife become Buddhas on the ground, and those who go to evil for the good become demons... Amitabha!" Tang Seng closed his eyes slightly, and he had already exhausted his demons all the way west, so he had no anger, no resentment, and no unwillingness. There is only a trace of regret, a faint regret.

What are you sorry about?

If it was a long time ago, Tang Seng would think so.

Xitianling Mountain, the holy land of Buddhism, was actually dyed by copper stench, and it was even distinguished by whether a person's soul was noble or not by whether his clothes were noble or not.

But at this time, Tang Seng only had a faint, almost imperceptible sadness.

Along the way, Tang Seng saw a shabby and poor old woman, in order to save those disabled and poor little animals, so that there was no surplus food at home, laughing at the neighbors and treating them as crazy women. I have also seen the Oiran of the Qinglou, but I just sent a few melon seeds to the birds that flew by, and they were described by countless talents in poetry and praised as pure kindness in the world.

I have seen a man who gave up all his wealth and wanted to help a stranger, so that his wife was separated, and he ran and roared in the rainstorm. I have also seen people who are rich in a country, relying on wealth to do whatever they want, but they are praised for their true temperament, and their actions are admired and imitated like true Buddhas.

It's not that people don't know how to be kind, but instinctively chase the strong and the superficial good.

"It shouldn't be like this!" Tang Seng shook his head, turned around and walked out of the mountain again.

Sun Wukong followed Tang Seng silently, some people felt that he had become like a dog, like a loyal dog tamed by Tang Seng, no longer having his own thoughts, but would only follow Tang Seng's footsteps, from east to west, or to further places.

But he's actually just really grown up!

I know that sometimes, you have to choose a path, follow a back, find a direction, and then run wildly, even if you are as down-and-out as a dog, even if no one applauds behind you.

Bajie shouted from behind: "Master, the spiritual mountain is in front of you, and the Buddha is behind the mountain." We can change into gorgeous clothes and go in and meet the Buddha and ask him questions and answers!"

Wujing also stopped in place.

They followed Tang Seng to the west and did become enlightened, but their original purpose has never been broken.

In their minds, the Buddha is the one who can explain the doubts in their hearts.

Tang Seng turned around, his shabby robe fluttering with dust, hunting in the wind.

"We fool others, but we can't fool ourselves. Letting go of oneself in order to cater to others, is this really the Buddha we are looking for?"

"I don't believe it! This is not the western sky, this is not the spiritual mountain. Tang Seng said.

Bajie said: "But Master! We have already walked through the fake Xitian Leiyin Temple once. Have you forgotten? Ninety-nine-eighty-one is difficult, and there will be no repetition of the experience. ”

Tang Seng had already stepped on the white horse and whipped towards the east.

"The spiritual mountain is at the foot, the Buddha is in our hearts, we ask the Buddha why he closed the door and didn't let us in, but the Buddha wanted to ask us, why didn't we open our hearts and let him in. Tang Seng's voice was scattered in the wind with the wind.

"Is it because we are rejecting the Buddha, or is the Buddha rejecting us?"

"I came to the West Heaven to seek the true scriptures, but how can there be so many true scriptures? Good words, one volume is enough! There is dust in the heart, and ten thousand volumes are useless!" Tang Seng's voice became louder and louder, and he deviated from the direction of the Ling Mountain, but under the originally majestic Ling Mountain, he became more and more conspicuous and tall.

Bajie chased a few steps and shouted at Tang Seng's back, "Then Master! I also have to bring some scriptures back to Datang, and it's good to make a difference!"

Tang Seng let go of himself and laughed on horseback: "If they don't give it to me, then I'll write it myself!"

"Then Master... Aren't we lying?"

Tang Seng grabbed the reins of the horse, turned his head to Bajie and said: "Bajie! Do you think that we have more enlightenment, more experience, more feelings, and more pains we have faced, or those Buddhas behind this door, they have more enlightenment, more experience, more feelings, and more pain to see?"

Bajie was speechless.

Although he believed that the enlightenment of the Buddha could see the birth and death of the heavens, and all kinds of suffering.

But the past flashed in front of his eyes, and it was difficult for him to say 'there are many of them'.

What you see is not what you get, and if you don't feel the pain of your skin, how can you really feel it?

"If we understand more than they do, if we experience more than they do, if we feel more than they do, if we face more pain. So why... Can't we write the scriptures ourselves? Who else is more qualified than us to guide people to goodness and release the resentment and pain in people's hearts?" Tang Seng took off the monk's hat on his head.

The shiny bald head is more dazzling than the jewels on the monks' bodies.