Chapter 99 Guang Lingui

To the north of Great Zhou and to the west of Chen.

Another vast expanse of land.

Two hundred years ago, the invincible Great Chu State collapsed into three kingdoms. Zhou in the Central Plains, Chen in the Northeast, and Great Xia in the Northwest.

Great Xia was a martial warrior. For many years, Great Xia had provoked many border wars. During that time, there were many great kings who tried their best to govern. The Great Xia Dynasty was now the leader of the States Xia, Zhou, and Chen , and the two kingdoms had no choice but to work together to contend against Great Xia.

But strangely enough, in such a martial Great Xia Dynasty, the Imperial Teacher was actually a monk.

However, this person had been empty for more than a hundred years. No matter how talented and magnificent the monarchs of each Great Xia Dynasty were, they did not dare to stand on the other side of that empty position of Imperial Teacher. Some people said that they respected the ancestor who founded the Xia Dynasty with their ancestors. Others said that it was because the Imperial Teacher was still alive, but they didn't know where he was traveling.

However, no matter what the truth was, the Emperor shouldn't have criticized the crowd if he didn't open his mouth.

Therefore, in the Great Xia Dynasty, there was a topic about the Imperial Teacher, and everyone had always kept it a secret.

As an Orthodox religion of the Great Xia Dynasty, the status of the Longyin Temple naturally rose, but the daily pilgrims were enough to make this golden temple the richest place in the Great Xia Dynasty.

Normally, with such a temple, ordinary temples would have to avoid it. After all, monks also had to eat. Without incense money, wouldn't monks starve to death?

However, there was a dilapidated temple on a small hill less than fifty kilometers away from the Longyin Temple.

The temple was very young and very old.

So much so that the words on the plaque at the entrance of the courtyard were also corroded to the point of being blurry, and only the words Xuantian could be faintly seen.

There was an old tree in the courtyard. It could not be named, but it grew very strong. It was winter, and the leaves on the tree fell to the ground, covering the entire dhyana courtyard, but no one took care of it.

"Two hundred years ago, an eminent monk witnessed the chaos of war, standing in front of the statue of the Buddha."

"He promised Hongyuan."

"If Buddha doesn't come from the east, I will go west."

At this moment, an aged voice sounded from the temple. The voice was hoarse and deep, as if it was the sound of stepping on a pile of withered branches in a dense forest.

In the monastery, a small monk with thick eyebrows and big eyes looked at the old monk with half-squinted eyes before looking at the only Buddha statue in the monastery and asked.

"Huh? What's he doing in the west?"

"Seeing Buddha, I asked." The old monk replied.

"Did he see the Buddha?" The little monk asked again.

"Oh."

The old monk narrowed his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep.

"In the end, did he save everyone?" The little monk asked again, tilting his head, his expression extremely serious.

"Oh." The old monk replied.

His eyes still didn't open.

"Liar!" At this time, the little monk's eyebrows suddenly wrinkled. His pink cheeks bulged, and he roared with a face full of indignation in his tender and pink voice.

"Huh?" The old monk opened his eyes. He seemed to have awakened from some kind of deep sleep and looked at the little monk with a puzzled expression.

"The west side is obviously a hundred thousand mountains. That place is actually a demon. Where did you get a Buddha!"

The little monk asked indignantly.

"Whatever he does." The old monk waved his hand with disappointment and reached out with his chopsticks to pick up the food on the table. It was the best chicken. It was cooked over a slow fire and tasted extremely delicious.

"There aren't many pilgrims in this courtyard. What does it have to do with you if the story is true or false? You have to remember this story. When this daddy dies, you have to rely on this story to continue deceiving this incense money. Otherwise, do you still want to starve to death?" As he spoke, the old monk put the chicken into the little monk's bowl.

"Huh?" The little monk was stunned. He picked up the chicken and put it into his mouth. He only felt that his lips and teeth were fragrant.

"That's right."

He nodded contentedly, but quickly shook his head again.

"When you're dead, I want to leave this place and go outside."

As he spoke, the little monk's eyes revealed a look of yearning, as if he was impatient with the outside world of flowers.

"Leave this place? What are you doing?" The old man's hand that was holding the chopsticks trembled imperceptibly, and then he quietly asked.

"Subduing demons, subduing demons, saving all living beings." The little monk tilted his head and replied without hesitation.

"Is there anything good outside? Isn't it good to spend a lot of time with the Buddha in this temple, the Cyan Lamp Ancient Buddha?" The old monk twisted up a piece of chicken meat, and a golden light that no ordinary person could detect spread out from his body at that time.

The little monk's body paused for a moment, and his expression suddenly became somewhat absent-minded.

For some reason, the thought that had just arisen seemed to have become less important at this moment.

"Not bad, then I'll stay." The little monk nodded.

…

The old monk was already very old.

To what extent no one could say it clearly, even the old monk himself could not say a word or two.

Thus, three days later, when the old monk was lying on the bed, unable to stand up, all of this seemed so natural.

"Are you going to die?" The little monk asked as he looked at the old monk whose eyes were getting dimmer and dimmer.

There was not a trace of sorrow on his face, only a dense confusion.

He knew that everyone would die.

But death.

He couldn't figure out what it was.

"Mm. I'm going to die." The old monk nodded with difficulty. His tone was calm and impermanent, as if he was stating an inconspicuous little matter. However, his eyes were staring straight at the boy in front of him. His expression was complicated, as if he was worried and reluctant to part with him.

"Are you afraid of me?" The little monk seemed to understand the expression of the old monk, and he frowned in confusion.

"Underneath him is Yama, and above his head is a deity. Anyone who walks in this world is worthy of reverence." The old monk said miserably. His voice was hoarse, and even the expression on his face gradually became absent-minded.

The little monk frowned again. The old monk always liked to say something inexplicable, but he could not understand it.

He only thought that if the old monk left, he would be the only one in the monastery.

What kind of scene should that be?

The little monk thought for a moment and felt that it should be very lonely.

What he hated the most was loneliness.

So after a slight hesitation, he still opened his mouth and asked, "Old man, can I leave this place after you die?"

Everything was in vain when a person died. Logically speaking, the little monk had the final say in the freedom to come and go at that time.

However, for some reason, he felt that he had to obtain the old monk's approval before he could leave this place.

The old monk had already reached the point of dying. His expression was almost dull, and the light in his eyes gradually dissipated.

Scenes of the past floated into his mind and flashed past his eyes like flowing shadows.

He had lived too long, so long that most of what he had experienced had become blurry.

But at that moment, the scene was still in his heart. He remembered what every flower, every grass, and even every breeze there looked like.

There, a young monk dressed in a red and golden robe rode on a white horse and headed west.

Behind him, on the city wall, a woman who looked like a peach blossom cried like a tearful person.

Before his back disappeared from the horizon, she could not help but shout, "Brother Dongjun, if there is a next life, you can marry me!"

The monk heard her words, but he did not turn back, nor did he dare to turn back.

He was afraid that once he turned around, the Buddha would not be able to see me and all living beings would not be able to pave the way.

This separation lasted for two hundred years.

This answer was two hundred years too late.

But it still came.

As a result, the old monk who was on the verge of death suddenly smiled like a spring breeze.

"Alright."

He spat out a similarly dry voice from his dry throat, then closed his eyes with some satisfaction.

The little monk smiled when he heard this.

He dug a pit beside the old tree in the monastery, buried the old monk inside, and erected a stone tablet. Originally, he wanted to write the name of the old monk, but suddenly, it sounded as if he had never known his name. So, he simply waved his hand, went into the house to pack up his few salutes, and hopped out of the monastery.

Strangely enough, the little monk had just taken a few steps out of the monastery when a middle-aged man dressed in a black robe and with a resolute face appeared in front of him.

"Little Master, where are you going?" The man did not find it strange to see the little monk, and instead asked very familiar questions.

The little monk looked at the man and felt that he looked familiar. He seemed to be one of the few pilgrims in the Dhyana Academy.

"Outside, subduing demons and eliminating demons will save all living beings." The little monk tilted his head and replied.

"Which side is it outside? What kind of demon is it?" The man asked again.

The little monk was stunned for a moment before he remembered that he seemed to have nowhere to go. Thus, he stretched out his hand to form a lotus flower and spat out a few dark and unintelligible words. His expression immediately turned joyful.

"Yes, Great Zhou Linglong Pavilion has a great demon. I will surrender him now!" The little monk said excitedly. Then, he did not look at the man and stepped on the road to leave.

The man didn't stop him either, but when the little monk was about to leave, he suddenly asked.

"I haven't consulted Little Master yet."

"My surname is Guang Lin. My name is Gui." The little monk said loudly without turning back, and his body had long disappeared into the forest.

Hearing this, the man smiled and turned around to walk into the dhyana courtyard.

…

The man silently looked at the dilapidated Buddhist courtyard, the fallen leaves on the ground, and the yellowed Buddhism. His expression was solemn, as if he was worshipping a sage.

In the end, his gaze landed on the wordless tombstone beside the old tree.

He sighed and thought for a moment before reaching the tombstone.

Then, he stretched out his hand and pressed it on the tombstone, and a sharp and forceful handwriting suddenly appeared on the tombstone.

The stone stele said.

Sacred Monk Da Chu, Grand Xia Imperial Teacher, Li Dongjun 's tomb.

December 21, 2001.

The Great Xia Emperor, Li Yulin , who had been diligent in government since he ascended the throne and had not slacked off in the slightest, was surprisingly absent from the court today.

The minister who had reported something important asked after a long time. The emperor had left the palace early this morning.

He went in a hurry, dressed in black.

Looks like he's going to see someone off.

Liked it? Take a second to support Novels on Patreon!