The half-headed Buddha's blood was wrapped in that trace of Buddha nature, but Wei Ye's peach daughter was still inserted in that demon heart.

Because of this, Wei Ye used the peach daughter as a bridge and saw something that others could not see.

The autumn sky is high and clear, the yellow leaves are all over the ground, and there are chariots and horses in a team, and they come in a hurry. In the procession, there is a carriage, followed by a white horse, carrying a lot of baggage on the horse's back, and you can vaguely see a bamboo and wood square basket cut into a long strip, on which a lotus flower is depicted.

This is the envoy team returning from the Western Regions, and the carriage is sitting on the senior monks who have entered China from the Western Regions, and they are about to go to Luoyang to make a pilgrimage to the Son of Heaven of the Han Dynasty.

And the white horse was carrying the Buddhist scriptures from the Otsuki clan and the Zobin country.

Wei Ye is naturally clear about this situation, Emperor Ming of the Han Dynasty dreamed of gold at night, so he wanted to see what a "monk" was. So the Protector of the Western Regions and the Captain of Wuji could only contact those small countries in the Western Regions, found some bald donkeys who could still be seen in conversation, and packed them for the envoys to take away.

The two bald donkeys that were packed and sent to Luoyang for a tour were Zhu Falan and Jia Ye Moteng, who were called the "Two Saints of the West".

The two Indian monks who first learned from Shakya in the Central Plains naturally have their own extraordinary. Zhu Falan and Ka Ye Moten are both in the Hinayana Arhat realm, but Wei Ye doesn't know that the Arhat Fruit is divided into nine ranks, and these two Arhats of the Hinayana lineage of Buddhism have attained which level.

The procession of envoys stopped at the side of the road, and the accompanying Huotou army began to dig stoves for cooking, and the two eminent monks who were preparing to make the pilgrimage to the Son of Heaven also got out of the car, trying to sell some of the superficial Buddhist beliefs to the soldiers in the procession in stiff Chinese.

At this moment, a flower-legged mosquito landed on the face of the fairer-skinned Indian monk.

Mosquitoes are rare in autumn, not to mention that adult mosquitoes live for two months, even if they are an anomaly, this mosquito is still a male mosquito, that is, the grass mosquito as the saying goes, which does not suck blood. If it is an ordinary person, to treat this kind of mosquito, that is, to wave things away, but this fair-skinned monk who is very likely to be the most respected Brahmin caste in Tianzhu has a kind smile on his face.

The compassion on his face appeared, but he didn't realize that his life was about to come to an end, and his vitality was losing every minute, and only the instinct of the creature was still barely struggling. It is this sense of struggle that makes the white-faced monk Buddha's heart move slightly, and a little compassion naturally comes out.

The beak of the grass mosquito cannot break through the skin of a human, but at this moment, a bead of blood the size of a needle is born from under its beak, and it seems to have a natural life, and it automatically flows backwards along its long beak into its abdomen.

Buddhism divides all beings in the world into the two realms of saints and mortals, all of which are divided into six realms and four qualities of saints. A drop of Arhat blood enters the belly of the grass mosquito, which is a rare and rare opportunity.

The grass mosquito only felt a sense of warmth spread throughout its body, but the life that was about to be dispersed reunited and became stronger than ever. The monk sensed the change in the grass mosquito on his face, and he rejoiced in his face, and whispered:

"With this little worm, I would like to save it. Aurora is a big country, and all living beings are unknown. May this subtle method be a nectar for all. ”

As soon as this ode came out, the drop of Buddha's blood in the body of the grass mosquito was attached to the heart of the grass mosquito, and it could no longer be separated, and the body of the grass mosquito seemed to have some very mysterious and indescribable changes.

The convoy left, the Han envoy and the two monks who had already entered the Arhat fruit position also left, and the grass mosquito was still lying in place, with a faint Buddha light in the body, like a firefly that had missed the season.

The grass mosquito is lying here for a hundred days, and in the blink of an eye it is winter, and the road is inaccessible, and the dry grass and trees cannot provide some grass sap to the grass mosquito. Even though there was a drop of pure Buddha blood left by the Arhat in his heart, the grass mosquito gradually became weak and almost froze to death.

I saw the sun rise and the moon set dozens of times, and finally in a deep winter, the grass mosquito watched a butcher staggering down the road. Maybe it was because it was too dark, or maybe there was something wrong with the butcher's feet, and the grass mosquito watched the butcher step on the air and fall to the ground, knocking his head on the stone on the road, and immediately bleeding.

Feeling the warm blood, the grass mosquito slowly crawled over, crawled onto the wound on the top of the butcher's head, and sucked the slightly sweet blood.

The grass mosquito seemed to feel that something was different, and it tried to vibrate its mouthparts, but it made this sound:

"With that...... Beings...... ...... for nectar"

With this sentient being as nectar, he drank human blood and fed human anointment, and conjured up a thin old monk in a robe, but like a hungry ghost and a rakshasa.

Wei Ye thought about the song that the old demon monk sang in the black qi of that group of demons, and couldn't help but snort coldly, and the hand holding the sword exerted force again.

As a result, those illusions born of the demon heart disappeared into nothingness.

There was only a large piece of wood still burning in front of him, and he couldn't tell what it was. Although the fire is still burning, the inside is already like the most popular animal charcoal in Luoyang City in winter, brittle, hard and loose.

With a twitch of his hand, Peach Qianjin retracted with Wei Ye's movements, and only a small piece of charred black was still attached to the tip of the sword. The fairy warlock frowned slightly, and was about to find a hand towel to wipe the charred black thing clean, but saw that the coke on the surface of the thing cracked one after another, revealing the true face inside.

It was a drop of blood the size of a needle, its color was as bright as a southern red agate, with a slight glow, and it looked extremely noble.

This drop of Arhat Buddha blood with agate red is attached to the tip of the sword of peach gold, and the faint sound of Sanskrit singing can be faintly heard from it:

"May this merit be dedicated to the Aurora Kingdom. Repeating the three Dharma seals liberates the eight kinds of suffering. ”

Its voice is curling, but to Wei Ye's ears, it is babbling and not annoying.

This voice did not come from the old demon monk Sumoro, who had been refined by Wei Ye with true fire to the point that there was not even a scum left, but the trace of persistence left by the owner of this drop of Buddha's blood.

I don't know which of the two old bald donkeys who have attained the arhat fruit is left with the obsession of Zhu Falan and Ka Ye Moteng, this drop of Buddha's blood has created a great demon who loves human blood, and he has also used Buddhism to excuse countless wonderful reasons. At this moment, Samoro has been refined to death by Wei Ye with the Dongyang Sword, and this drop of Buddha blood has lost its basis, so it has appeared on the sword of the immortal warlock.

Wei Ye looked at this drop of Buddha blood, smiled lightly, and pointed his sword at the sword grid hexagram talisman a little, and a pure Taoist true fire immediately rose, and in an instant, the drop of Buddha blood left by the Arhat was burned into a trace of green smoke.

Standing behind Wei Ye, looking at this drop of Buddha's blood that had been burned into nothingness, he shook his head with some regret, but he didn't say anything.