At noon, the mountains of Wuling were looking out from within a barrier of ice and snow, looking out with all their might, secretly impulsive. Some clouds on the horizon, even if they are condensed but not moving, are indescribably light and soft. Biluo has never been empty in color, but the clouds are swaying and leisurely, probably so. Ren is the change of seasons, and all kinds of things on the ground are immersed in the transformation of time, only the high place that looks up has not changed.

Huang Jipeng, Meng Gufu and other Xuanmen monks of the Diguo Kingdom chased the fight between the three Yuanying Zhenren and the four Buddhist masters of Wuliguan, and went to a higher sky. The abrupt appearance of this monk, the posture of his falling down, the drifting of fallen leaves, no one cares.

The wind and light night blocked Mo Qianqing, Ning Tingxue, and said, "It's useless for you two to go down, I'll go with Han'er." ”

Don't be in a trance in the distant mountains, this monk exudes a layer of pure and peaceful Buddha light, very light and thin, warm and moist, very comfortable, smell his voice, leisurely and beautiful, and there is an inexplicable worship in his heart. Seeing the light head and the fanged mask again, the big disciple of Wuliguan sharpened his steel teeth, drove away his good feelings, and said angrily: "Bald donkeys are not allowed to enter!"

The monk let out an "oh" and said, "I'm not a bald donkey, I'm a poor monk." ”

After all, in order to prove that he was a "poor monk" and not a "bald donkey", he stretched out his hand, rubbed his thumb and index finger on the top of his head, and pulled out a hair more than three feet long.

"Donor, please see, the poor monk has hair. "Poor monk" said.

This scene was so strange that the great disciple of Wuliguan couldn't believe it, and his thick nerves couldn't turn for a while. Since there is hair, even one, and it is still pulled out in front of the face, of course, it is not a bald donkey. can let him in, but he is unwilling.

The wind is light and the night and the cold fall on the side of the distant mountain.

"Young Ancestor Gong......" Bei Yuanshan shouted.

Playing this guy from the gentleman who learned that Feng Qingye is the next disciple of the ancestor Li Fujian, the generation is more than 200 generations away, don't think about the mountains and meditate, and understand the mysteries of heaven and earth all the way and tracing back to the origin for tens of thousands of years, that is, use the "young grandfather" honorific title Feng Qingye. The young man refused several times, but he didn't change his words, and he had no choice but to follow his call. Most of the time, this name is ridiculed by Qingfeng and Mingyue, but if you don't call "Young Grandfather" from Yuanshan, the two little children also shout "brother" a few times in the light night when they have nothing to do.

The "poor monk" looked at the young man, and looked at the little fox that the young man was hugging. looked at the young man again, then looked at the little fox twice, did something with one palm, flicked his index finger, and said, "The poor monk is polite." The two are friendly. ”

"The master is well. The wind returned the salute.

Han'er stared at the bare brain case of the "poor monk", and that one hair was blowing straight up, fluttering and shaking, so outstanding, seeing the little fox's blue eyes full of smiles.

The eyes that appeared on the mask of the "poor monk" were clear in color, and he asked, "Do you like it?"

Han'er nodded again and again.

The eyes of the "poor monk" also smiled, and the palm of his hand rubbed his head a few times, and two fingers twisted a hair and pulled it out. The little fox laughed even more happily, and the monk laughed, and through the mask, his voice was very sluggish, like the wind in the woods.

"The poor monk will pull one more at most and show it to the little fox Daoyou. Then, go inside and say goodbye. Looking at it here, the "killing Buddha" half a mile away is very eye-catching. So, the monk pulled the third. I don't know if it's deliberate, or because of the wind, the three long hairs stand and fall, or drag the back of the head, undulating with the wind.

"Thank you, Master. Come in. The boy said.

The "poor monk" was agreed, and his figure flashed and flashed, and he took two or three breaths, that is, he stood at the place where the Dharma protector of Wuli Guan eliminated evil was written. Standing and staring, there is no gentle and innocent just now, the "poor monk" pitches and laughs wildly, turning into bursts of pine waves, filling the entire valley of the heart road, endlessly. This laugh lasted for a quarter of an hour.

"Be respectful. The "poor monk" said while laughing, untied the wine gourd around his waist, turned the plug upside down, the wine was turbulent, ten breaths, and the gourd poured the wine into the mouth, the same ten breaths. Then sprinkle the wine on the ground and salute each other, and then drink booze. The ground was a small pool, and he drank so much. The magic vessel of the wine gourd, I don't know how much wine it contains.

Five hundred and eighteen Buddhist disciples held their breath.

The "poor monk" was drunk and obsessed, becoming more and more crazy, waiting for the gourd to not have a drop of wine left, his three hairs, straight as a blade, the sword spitting and feeding, and the sword roaring. The sound of three kinds of sword roaring, strange and uneven, or clear, or ancient, or majestic in the air, the Buddha's meaning is clear. Staggered, not complicated, but self-contained.

The wind is light and the night is listened carefully, and the sword roars like the abyss and the sea, which is unfathomable. One of them, which seems to be a little familiar, knows the sea flow "Zen is the heart of the sword", and it is in tune with it. The Buddhist sword path practiced by the "poor monk" must have a Zen sword. It's just that the young man's "Zen is the heart sword intent" is really superficial, otherwise the Zen sword will sound and accompany it, which will be of great benefit to his cultivation of this swordsmanship.

The sound of the sword of Buddhism is naturally compassionate, and more than 500 Buddhist disciples all bow down.

The "poor monk" shouted: "Worship it." He actually lifted the moon-white monk's robe, knelt on his knees, and bowed three times. Every time you worship once, the dense Buddha light will be brightened for a minute, after three worships, stand up, the Buddha light has been brilliant and dazzling. The monk swallowed lightly and said, "The poor monks worship everything, why can't you read it?"

Slowly turned around, drank in front of the head, and said angrily: "Shout for the poor monk!"

More than 500 people were like thunder, and they said in unison: "- Kill the Buddha!" When these words came out, there seemed to be a little insight between the minds, and there seemed to be a trace of smart wisdom, clear and clear. It's a pity that the master was drunk and messy, and went out of the valley. My heart is back to my heart.

The "poor monk" walked to the front of the windy night, Han'er, and Beiyuan Mountain, and the wine was gone, and he saluted: "This benefactor, two Taoist friends, the poor monk Meng Lang, saw and smiled. ”

"Why is this the case? When you should be angry, you should laugh, you laugh, the master is emotional, and he does not serve for the deeds. If the kid says 'admiration', but falls into the inferior, I am fortunate to be able to get the master's demeanor. Feng Qingye said sincerely.

"Don't learn from poor monks. The "poor monk" said: "The poor monk is in the world, and what he does is 'killing the Buddha'. ”

Bei Yuanshan shouted: "Doesn't the master belong to the Buddhist sect?"

The "poor monk" did not answer, but said to others, "The monks do not speak. Those handwritings, and the words of the poor monks, are like up and down. Excuse me, isn't there anyone who writes better without Liguan?"

That's a very difficult question to answer. Fortunately, the "poor monk" replied to himself: "The poor monk has committed the precept of anger." Hehe, how can you dislike the quality of words?"

Han'er laughed, and there was a sound of "whoosh".

Feng Qingye asked, "Why did the master come and where will he go?"

"The poor monk went to Tao to kill Baomo. I heard that he had gone to the Temple of the Heavenly Cover and came to the country of Ogi. I saw the place where the Dharma protector destroyed the Buddhism of the two countries, and then followed here. The "poor monk" probably felt that he was wordy, and said succinctly: "It's still to kill Baomo." Then go home. ”