Chapter 313

"Jingcheng --"

the old abbot clubbed the Zen stick heavily, and obviously did not believe his words.

"The holy land of Buddhism, don't make any mischief."

The old abbot still had expectations in his heart. He thought that Jingcheng was trying to prevent the disaster for the elder martial brothers and younger brothers, and to quench the anger of the Duke of Yan. He would not hesitate to come forward and discredit himself to perfect the monks.

The old abbot only thought it absurd to say that he liked worldly women.

When Jingcheng was three years old, he was shaved by the old abbot himself. From three to twenty-six years old, a little thing with a leak in his front teeth grew into a young man in his prime. The old abbot had always been proud of the fact that he had cultivated a swaying seedling into a luxuriant canopy tree.

The White Horse Temple is the most holy land in the world. There are countless princes, grandsons and nobles who come to worship. All of the daughters raised by the family of hairpins and tassels are Zhong lingyuxiu, which makes the monks in the temple moved.

Jingcheng, as the most sought after young virtue, became a sensation in the world at the age of 20. Many of the women he adored were gorgeous beauties. However, the master did not understand the customs and customs, and always abided by the rules and regulations.

The old abbot pitied his disciple's compassion, but could not tolerate him sacrificing himself for the sake of this group of six impure disciples. He softened his face and began to speak slowly, "I know what you want, but some things are doomed, and mistakes should be punished."

The monks didn't protest against the old abbot's preference. They were equally convinced of Jingcheng, the younger martial brother. He was elegant and elegant. He was like a spotless holy green lotus. Killing them, they did not believe that the other side would be crazy about a red woman.

They agreed with the old master's idea that Jingcheng wanted to exonerate the monks who had made mistakes, to transfer the anger of the Duke of Yan, and to make himself the target of public criticism.

Under the Abbot's expectant eyes, the lover finally disobeyed his expectation and shook his head slowly.

"Master, I'm not fooling around."

His red cassock was abandoned by his master. His hands were covered with the cold floor, and he made a heavy kowtow. The noise made the old abbot startled.

Jingcheng's forehead has a bright red seal. He whispered, "disciple, indeed, I have a sweetheart. She is very good, and my disciples also want to cherish her. "

The old abbot's white beard trembled with anger.

"Shi Jingcheng, do you still have this master in your eyes?"

The old abbot was seldom angry, especially for his favorite little apprentice. Although the partiality was not obvious, it was enough to make other disciples envious. Obviously, he was very angry and called Jingcheng's name in front of him.

The name of Jingcheng is taken by the abbot. It is as clear and dust-free as a clear mirror, and has great expectations. In addition, the names of monks are all given the surname of Shi. The abbot is to remind him not to be confused and forget his first name.

The nearest monk quickly helped the abbot. He was afraid that the old man would faint because of too much stimulation. At the same time, he advised, "younger martial brother, why are you suffering? Make a mistake with the master. "

The abbot was waiting for his answer.

In the dull atmosphere, the young monk kowtowed again.

The Buddha in the temple is still picking flowers and smiling, but his disciples are rebellious. They want to betray Buddhism, not to be green lotus in still water, but to fall into the world. They want to put them on the temples of a woman and be her gentle and affectionate flower of interpretation.

"Master, I know what I'm doing. Also know that life in the world, in the thorns, the heart does not move, people do not move, do not hurt. But master, that night, the disciple wrote the Lotus Sutra a hundred times, and the Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra a thousand times, but still could not stop the wild desire like weeds

"My heart is in a hurry. I've been all over my body for a long time. Master, when I first met her, I couldn't go back. "

The abbot was furious, "are you going to die without regret?"

"Please complete it, master."

"Bang --"

the golden Buddhist staff pounded heavily on his back, and the mirror gave a dull hum.

"Please complete it, master."

"Bang Bang --"

"please master It's done... "

After a while, mirror Cheng's back is already a piece of flesh and blood, the blood color flowing down along the monk's clothes. The intense pain makes Jing Cheng's whole head dizzy, as if there was a buzzing noise. To the end, the whole body wet mirror Cheng with instinct will bite teeth strong support.

The spine that has been knocked hundreds of times is always straight.

He doesn't complain about the master's punishment. That's what he deserves.

Blame yourself But also, never repent.

After Jingcheng was convulsed and fainted because of pain, Baima temple, which was highly respected by the world, was pushed to the top of the storm, implicating the fate of many monks.

The cause of the matter is very simple. The Duke of the state lost a snow fox's pet. When he came to ask for it, he found a large number of worldly objects from the temple, which caused a great disturbance.What is most difficult for the world to accept is that Shi Jingcheng, a famous Buddhist monk with the name of Buddha's reincarnation, is willing to fall in love with secular women!

The believers have a fanatical worship of Jingcheng, which reaches the peak after the matter of giving alms in the shabby alleys. In their mind, Jingcheng does not dye the fine dust, sits on the lotus platform to cross the world's hardships. His life should be for the world and the people. How can he be narrow enough to accommodate only one person?

All living beings felt cheated and ran to the White Horse Temple to ask for explanations.

But the Lord never appeared.

The disappointment and anger of the believers grew.

As a result, the White Horse Temple was like a white wall covered with dust, and its brightness was dim.

While the abbot and his disciples were busy dealing with the disaster, the culprit took his wife's slender waist and enjoyed the beautiful snow scenery in the middle of the lake.

The maids were diligent in boiling water and cooking tea. They did not dare to take them to the Duke and his wife, and they did their own thing with fear.

Lin Lang was regarded as an innocent child by the Duke of Yan, and he held him tightly in his lap. Although they are husband and wife, the Duke of Yan has been very restrained in front of outsiders for several months since they got married. Meng Lang does not want to hold her in public, and he is still a shameless father and father.

"Don't do that. Let me down." Lin Lang blushed and pleaded in a low voice.

The Duke of Yan leaned over his head and bit her ear with a loud hiss. The warm and greasy tip of his tongue twirled carefully, conveying a kind of blazing bewitchment.

At first, Lin Lang still tried to bear it. Later, the man became more and more violent. Along the red mole behind her ear, she kissed the collar bone of her neck and shoulder all the way. She had to stop, "what are you doing?" She pushed the man's face.

The Duke of Yan stopped and bit the back of his hand, slightly stinging.

Lin Lang didn't look at him, and the Duke of Yan was not angry. Instead, he opened his mouth with a clear smile, "madam, your red phoenix son is still struggling in the palm of his husband's hand. If he treats him so coldly, he will not be afraid to be unhappy for his husband and kill him completely?"

The wife suddenly looked up, as if she could not believe that he would force her in this way.

"Smile, eh?"

The Duke of Yan pointed to his belly and ordered her lips, which was quite spoiling.

Lin Lang's body is stiff, and finally has no choice but to submit. She raises her mouth according to her husband's wishes. At the next moment, she was pinched by the tip of her chin. The other party bowed her head and kissed her, stroked the back of her hair and swept into two thin crimson slits. The fish played in the spring water, and she was very tender and lingering with her.

Even though his wife has been particularly docile recently, the Duke of Yan has not relaxed his supervision on her. Lin Lang is forbidden to stay in the small garden and is not allowed to go out for half a step.

Outside the arch of Xiaoyuan, there are layers of heavy guards.

Lin Lang wants to go out of the way is very simple and crude. On the way to the emperor of Yan, she takes advantage of people's unprepared, and directly knocks out the maid who delivers the meal. The other side's body shape is similar to her, Lin Lang looked at her face for a moment, and drew a similar make-up for herself.

She got away from the government and went to the White Horse Temple.

In the Buddhist temple where incense was flourishing in the past, only a few monks swept the snow outside the hall, which made the hall feel desolate.

Lin Lang turned to a yard.

The paper window is wide open, the people with thin monk's clothes, facing the cold wind, look at the snow all over the sky. Just a few days later, Jingcheng was in sharp shape. There was no trace of blood on his handsome face. Only the red red grain of cinnabar between his eyebrows reminded him that he was still in the world.

"Ah Xiu!"

Lin Lang lifted the hood inlaid with snow velvet, and her lips and face were as beautiful as a distant Hibiscus of beautiful color standing in the wind and snow.

The monk was staring at people.

It was a long time before he came to his senses and realized what had happened.

It's not a dream.

It's not delusion.

Jingcheng even did not open the door, quickly climbed up the window edge, the movement is more clumsy than in the past.

He nearly fell to the ground.

But he had no time to take care of the back injury, leg pain, still did not stand firm, the body automatically ran up.

"Dada -"

the feet sank into the snow and mud, making a rustling sound, and the cold and piercing ice water instantly soaked the monk's shoes.

Jingcheng is full of joy.

As much as I could, at all costs, I ran to her.

"Ah Xiu!"

Lin Lang is screaming this time.

The monk rushed up like a deer, but hugged Lin Lang's legs. She could not help leaning forward, and the whole person was lifted high.

Even a head higher than Jingcheng.

"I'm not dreaming." He said.

Before Lin Lang said anything, the monk said, "well, what I have done is a beautiful dream. There is nothing to regret."

"Poo hee"

the sweetheart laughed at his silly, worried about gains and losses. He slowly lowered his face, and his forehead touched each other. Warm feelings spread out from the cold place, "you didn't dream."Her voice was very light, as light as a flower on the ground, "ah Xiu, I'm here. After that, I won't leave. "

Mirror Cheng, eyes slightly red.

At the time when he was accused of falling into the dust, she came, without hesitation.

"Are you going with me He raised his head, and his clear and clear eyes once contained his Buddha, but now he pretended to be his beloved faith.

"Go to the south of the Yangtze River, to the desert, to all the places you like and want to stay. If we are tired of walking, we will find a place with beautiful water and clear mountains, build a cottage, raise a calf, plough a few mu of small fields, and plant peach blossom trees. After a few more spring and autumn, we can see the innocent pony peeling lotus pods at the head of the stream

"Come with me, will you?"

He sincerely held out a heart, without reservation, let her see the lines of Acacia entangled in it.

Lin Lang's fingers rubbed his beautiful eyes.

"Good."

Jingcheng smiles happily.

He was finally going to be the tender man around her.

"I'm glad you can come with me."

He raised his neck and gave her a solemn kiss on the brow.

Unfortunately, I am a sinner with no future.

How can you risk yourself with me?

Jingcheng pinched the back of the neck, a sharp stabbing pain came, Linlang lost consciousness, soft and soft fell on his body, before coma, she only saw that cinnabar red strong, red to make public.

To the extreme is decline.

"It's too late."

His lips opened and closed gently in her ear.

You're too late.

I saw you for the first time from the sixth day of May to the last time on December 23rd.

As ephemera's time is too short for him to settle down, so he likes to be naive and reckless, even with the blood that hurts his body and bones.

It's too late.

Let him have no time to measure the hidden feelings in the blood is in line with the rules, is in line with the etiquette, just want to pour his own, teach her to understand his palpitation.

Just a little earlier.

If it's the eighth day of April, I'll give you a bean in time.

If it is the 15th day of the first month, I will send you a red lantern in time.

It would be nice if he was three years old. In time, he would boil the remaining years into three jars of sweet and sour plum wine and bury them under the peach blossom tree.

A altar will be opened during the worship.

One altar opens at the full moon.

When the snow is white at dusk, open the last altar.

If only earlier, in the snow, he thought so, stubbornly.