Chapter 604 Dead Buddhist Temple

Hearing this, Local Tyrant couldn't sit still.

He glanced at Fang Zheng again and almost got impulsive again. Sure enough, there was something wrong with the old monk!

But Fang Zheng gave Local Tyrant a look that stopped him in time.

He did not answer the old monk's words, nor did he answer the old monk's words. He was worried that he would make too many mistakes and show any signs, or give the old monk any hints.

This is like a street fortune-teller, casually asking you a few seemingly inadvertent questions, you can figure out seven or eight details, and then use ambiguous words to tell your details, so that you can have trust.

The next step is to get more information about you, and then calculate your fortune... As for the extent to which he can deceive people, it depends on his eloquence.

Fang Zheng did sense something unusual about the temple.

But he didn't say how he felt.

It was to prevent the old monk from deliberately pretending to be a monk and getting his words.

Faced with Fang Zheng's vigilance and Local Tyrant's impulsive personality, the old monk was not angry.

Seeing that the old monk did not care whether the ground was dirty or not, he began to sit on the ground in the main hall, then raised his old and withered hands like chicken feet, and gently patted the ground.

It was a sign for Fang Zheng and the others to sit down.

Although the neighbor's uncle was of chinese descent from Xianluo, the settlement of two generations had already been integrated into the local culture and customs of Siam kingdom. His respect for the holy monk came from his heart and he sat down.

Even the expression on his face was a little excited, as if he could sit close to master Long Po, which made him feel very honored. It was a good thing for him to be a proud ancestor.

Both of them were sitting on the ground. They stood like bamboo poles, looking down at others through their nostrils, which was inherently disrespectful.

Fang Zheng did not think much and sat down with him.

He had come to look for clues from the Old Mo Buddha, and now that an important clue had finally appeared, he was naturally unwilling to miss it.

Most importantly, Fang Zheng was confident in his own abilities.

Perhaps he could not beat the Old Mo Buddha.

But he had elder brother Xiang's help!

Luck fragrance is Fang Zheng's trump card!

When Local Tyrant saw Fang Zheng sitting down, he naturally kneaded again and sat down with him, but his face remained vigilant and stared at the old monk, his muscles tensed up. If anything went wrong, Local Tyrant would not hesitate to strike at him with a stick.

When everyone sat down, saint Long Potian continued to speak, with his neighbor's uncle as the interpreter.

Long Potian: "Are you curious why the buddha statue in the main hall is missing? Where did it go?"

"When you entered this buddhist temple, did you still have a very strange feeling... Basuko truth temple... It was like a dead temple where a buddha went to the empty temple... Did you feel that this buddhist temple was actually dead?"

Fang Zheng was calm, but Local Tyrant was a little impatient. Although he did not say anything, the surprised expression on his face betrayed his inner changes.

Old monk Long Potian looked at Local Tyrant kindly. He did not expose Local Tyrant, but continued, "I have a story here. It's about the death of the buddhist temple. Do you want to hear it?"

"Master Long Po might as well tell us something. I like to hear these kinds of weird stories." After Fang Zheng finished speaking, the neighbor's uncle immediately translated it to Long Potian.

Long Potian's wrinkled, chiseled, old face nodded to Fang Zheng in a friendly manner and began to tell a bizarre story about "The sudden death of a buddhist temple one day."

This happened about a month ago, and I don't know if it was a coincidence or not. The timeline of the story started shortly after Fang Zheng left Blessed Land and the Old Mo Buddha was killed by Mr. Fu.

There was a buddhist temple where many monks lived.

One of them was a saint who was a high priest.

The daily life of these monks was very simple. They practiced the dharma of buddha, the art of lowering their heads, the art of dispelling the dharma of lowering their heads, the art of attracting wealth, the art of piercing talismans, and so on.

Rune piercing, also known as the art of piercing the underworld, is a tattoo on a human body, but this is not an ordinary tattoo, but with the ghost as the material, the ghost is sealed into the tattoo in the way of piercing, so as to achieve the effect of attracting wealth and transportation, avoiding evil spirits...

The art of assassination had been extinct for hundreds of years in china and was beaten to death. However, after some people fled to the backward southeast asia, they became prosperous from decline and regarded the domestic discarded sorcery as a treasure, together with the Gumantong and buddhism, which were called the three major sorcery, as orthodoxy.

That's why everyone loves tattoos in southeast asia.

Xianluo, in particular, has tattoos on almost everyone, young and old, on the streets.

It was precisely because tattoos were used from top to bottom to earn money and fortune, and had been popular for hundreds of years...

Fang Zheng had once met a southeast asian assassin, and only through Captain Fei's mouth did he know the secret of this... It was just a dark history. Fang Zheng did not interrupt Long Potian's words or show any hostility to long po tian. Xianluo's most famous Gumantong, buddhist tablets, and tattoos were all made from the afterlife ghosts or dead babies. He could not kill all the people in Xianluo, could he?

Since these can last forever, there should be a reason.

Fang Zheng continued to listen to long po tian.

Long Potian and the ordinary monks in the buddhist temple practiced buddhism every day. This was a very common thing, as simple as three meals a day.

But about a month ago, because the temple was in disrepair, they planned to renovate several of the most dilapidated buildings, so they hired workers to renovate.

But during the renovation, one of the houses collapsed.

On the spot, a worker was killed by the falling roof.

The next day, another accident happened, and another worker was killed by the scaffolding because of an operational error.

On the third day, another worker died.

Without exception, all of these workers died in the same place. The workers in other places were fine and there were no accidents. Only the house, who touched the soil, died.

In the end, no workers dared to get close to the house.

However, the renovation of the temple was already halfway through, and it was impossible for the temple to be abandoned because of one house. So, the monks in the temple decided to renovate the house which was regarded as an ominous and dangerous house by the workers themselves.

One day, two days, three days... When the monk was in charge of renovating the unknown haunted house, everything was normal and nothing happened for several days in a row.

The monks were very happy.

He thought that he must be a profound buddhist practitioner, and realized the profound buddhist dharma. Soon, the temple was renovated.

However, before the monks could be happy, on the night the temple was renovated, strange events began to happen in the temple.

New book by Old Shi, the city god: