As large as heaven and earth, as small as a piece of sand and dust, the demise of any individual is the result of overuse.

Whether there is a spirit or knowledge, or ignorance or awareness, there is life and there is destruction, and there is a beginning and an end, so there is no eternity in everything, just as there is no true perfection in the world.

Xiao Xiao drew a circle, trapped thousands of ant soldiers inside, and assigned them to fight in formation.

In a corner of the city, no one stopped.

People were talking about the great battle in the west of the city the day before yesterday, inspiring and excited, full of tears, and sighing.

In short, the war is over.

Xiliang has withdrawn his troops, where did they come from and where they went back, nearly half of the 500,000 horses and horses were broken.

King Unu died in the midst of the rebellion, and many people saw that he died under the divine stick of the monks.

Or under the mad rod of the mad monk.

In any case, this is a big victory, and it is clear that a few god-level bigwigs have swayed the tide of the battle, and at this time, several names are being recited in people's mouths.

Including Fang Yin.

The dead Khuba Cileng was taken away by the badly wounded Living Buddha, leaving only one Mora.

Moro said that the Living Buddha would bury him in the Great Snow Mountain, on the ice cliff, under the sacred red lotus.

Moro said, "The reason why I will stay is also the meaning of the living Buddha."

It was in the evening, in the barracks, Fang Yin had not closed his eyes for three days and two nights, and Fang Yin had been guarding Wuchan's side.

Long Zhen has been here, this time it is Zen Wuzen, and he has fallen into a deep sleep.

Jin Dan was shattered, all internal strength was lost, both physical and mental were damaged, and consciousness was lost. This is the diagnosis made by Lingxiu Divine Doctor for the Zenless monks.

In simple terms. It's a vegetative state.

Wuzen lies straight on the bed. The whole body is bandaged like a rice dumpling, and only two nostrils are left to breathe.

Breathing is also like nothing.

A person's strength is limited, including a person's potential, when Wu Zen swings the stick, the stick is as heavy as ten thousand pounds, not only its own copper skin and iron bones can not bear, but also the endless demand and even the squeezing of the magical golden pill can not bear. So it will collapse, so it will be destroyed, and Jindan will have its own time when it is broken. When the Vajra is not bad, and when it reaches the seventh major consummation realm, it is the golden pill that has been transformed into nothing, and the divine merit has been achieved. But before the time came, Wuzen forcibly seized and was dissatisfied, and finally made Jindan explode in an instant.

Wuzen didn't have his big brother Fang Yin's life, and no one reshaped his golden body, so Wuchan could only rely on himself. During this period, it was very dangerous, and he almost perished, especially later, in the end, Wuzen was completely fighting with himself. The truth is that one is one. Two is two, no one can overcome themselves. All those who try to defeat themselves have only one end, schizophrenia. The choice of Wuzen is to beat the two sticks back to their original shape, whether they have the intention or not, anyway, they are the first stick. It is forced to drink at the head and end up with a big bag, and what can really make people realize is not the stick of the stick or the drink of the stick, but the meaning of the stick.

Good, good, Amitabha!

There were only three people in the room, Fang Yin, Wu Chan, and Mo Luo.

Pity an honest child, in the end of the hand full of blood, this is all Lingxiu's sin, Peony took the bird gun to find him to settle the account, the world's first tigress was furious, Lingxiu monk had no reason to survive. Love, hate, Wuzen also killed, injured and disabled many Longjing soldiers, any explanation is pale and powerless, this is a bloody fact. Fortunately, Wuzen is ignorant and unconscious, but when Wuzen wakes up, the biggest crisis will become.

But he taught him how to face all this.

Pale face, red and swollen eyes, weeping candles, dead as silence.

Fang Yin was in a bad mood, or extremely bad, Fang Yin didn't talk to anyone these days, didn't eat or drink, and didn't say a word. The dead do not suffer, the living suffer, and a philosopher said it well: only the dead can see the end of war. Under the extreme tiredness, he was still self-punishing, of course, his brain was strongly stimulated by Fang Yin, and Fang Yin finally understood how reasonable what the Living Buddha said.

In fact, the biggest difference between humans and animals is that people will always think about such and such truths, and then make such and such choices. So painful, so entangled, so regretful that the intestines are rotten, and a misstep becomes a thousand years of hatred. Of course, it shouldn't have come, it was originally a mistake, but unfortunately there was no chance to come again, how can this teach the Taoist priest to be embarrassed? Of course, whether it comes or not, it is originally a result, if there is no Vishnu god in the world, who will be liberated by Huba Tsereng?

It's messy, it's messy, Fang Yin finally can't hold on.

While lying on the side of the bed and falling asleep, Fang Yinggan stared at a pair of eyes that had lost his lustre, but still asked Moro.

Why.

Moro is a wise man, and one sentence is all the answers: if you can foresee this, will you not come this time? What the Tokala foresaw was only fragments of the future, and whether he was a man or a god, he could only live in the present, as a witness. And the future has infinite possibilities, so the words of the living Buddha cannot be fully believed, just say that the world is like chess, then everyone can be a chess piece that changes the outcome, infinite possibilities and infinite results.

And this is just one of them.

West.

The blood has coagulated, the cold wind is miserable, the white hair is hidden in the residual sun, and the figure of the Tao is so depressed.

The two old men are also witnessing this historical moment.

The red ground is scorched earth, the bones are burned in the flames, how to distinguish good from evil in life and death, and who will judge right and wrong.

sighed, the old master really hurt his heart, coughed, and the old general coughed up blood again. Knowing that this is going to happen, maybe that's the best outcome. Even if life and death are already downplayed, how can life and death be bearish, crying, crying, white-haired people send black-haired people, you can imagine the countless sad moments in the coming days. In the twilight, many Longjing soldiers accompanied the two old men, no one spoke, no one laughed, everyone's heart was depressed and heavy, and the heart was extremely sad.

In the battle, the Xiliang army killed nearly 100,000 people, not counting the wounded, and not counting the weight of the horses.

And Long Jingjun only died more than 30,000 people.

The smallest price, the biggest victory, Sanhua Gonggong still has to write, Sanhua Gonggong, as the supervising army, sent the last good news to the Longjing court.

It is still an exaggeration and a fake, and it is inevitable that countless water will be injected, and the whole lie about the military situation is completely unsightly.

Presumably, there will be people who will get great benefits for no reason.

But the fact that it turns a living life into a string of cold numbers is even more absurd than the statistics of the three flower fathers, that is, war. No matter how grand the scene, no matter how magnificent the chapter, no matter how magnificent the language is used to preach and chant and whitewash, it cannot hide the essence of greedy desire and violence. This is war, a monument of flesh and bones, an epic written in blood, and the desire is endless, and violence can be beautiful, but in any case it is not worth singing.

It's not worth it. (To be continued......)

PS: End of this chapter.