Fu Canglu

Chapter 320 Praying for the New Year

Inside the Darong Temple.

Tang Xiaoman spread out the oiled paper, with a Langhao pen with a slender tip, and wrote a very long paragraph with thick and thin characters.

The snow is basically not heavy, but Zhong Xuehu still insists on holding an umbrella beside her.

A little girl in Tsing Yi squatted outside the umbrella, staring blankly at the wishing pool.

"Copper coin wish", first write the wish on the oil paper, then fold the oil paper, stuff it between the eyebrows of a consistent copper coin, and finally sink the copper coin to the bottom of the wishing pool, and wait for the wish to come true.

Tang Xiaoman, who despises his bad handwriting, has already scrapped several sheets of oiled paper.

In fact, Tang Xiaoman's handwriting is quite beautiful, but when she was in Tangjiabao, the always rebellious eldest lady refused to calm down and learn calligraphy from the private school teacher, so her handwriting can only be regarded as Xiaojiabiyu.

She was afraid that if her handwriting was ugly, her wish would not come true.

She is also afraid that if she writes too much, if the Bodhisattva laughs at her for being greedy, her thoughts will come to nothing.

Delete, delete, delete, take the trouble.

Zhong Xuehu said to the little Yaozu girl who was squatting on the snow in a daze: "You are a great practitioner with spatial supernatural powers, can you go to the Northern Wei Dynasty and bring them back?"

Qingli squinted her eyes, but her vertical pupils still couldn't see the scene in the distance.

She said lightly: "No."

Miss Zhong's family choked on this extremely crisp answer.

She lowered her eyebrows and knew the answer in her heart.

Zhong Xuehu doesn't know much about cultivation.

But she also knows that possessing spatial talent does not mean that she can appear anywhere in the world as she pleases.

Indeed, there are many rules and regulations, and complex rules restrict space-talented practitioners.

Qingli glanced at Tang Xiaoman who had started to write his wishes and began to fold oil paper, not knowing what to say.

This woman obsessively wrote oil paper all morning.

Finally started stacking paper.

Tang Xiaoman was smiling from the very beginning when he was writing on oil paper. Even if he felt that his writing was not good enough and his brows were slightly frowned, he was still smiling.

She smiled so sweetly, what exactly was written?
The Yiguan copper coin fell into the wishing pool, and with a plop, the thin ice broke open.

On the oiled paper were written two characters that Tang Xiaoman had cut down to the point that they could no longer be cut down.

wedding dress.

Don't want anything else, only one wish.

Tang Xiaoman put his palms together with a smile, silently made a wish, and murmured in his heart: "Wedding dress."

Marry Xiao Buyi.

When you return safely, we will get married.

The ceremony of praying for the new year is held in the Darong Temple.

The incense burner is filled with red sandalwood incense.

His Majesty Qi Liang came to the Darong Temple to pray in person, which is enough to explain some things under the general trend of the decline of Buddhism in the world.

For more than a year, many princes from Qiliang's royal family have come here, with the utmost sincerity, wishing and fulfilling their wishes.

Now the giants of several great families also entered the temple with His Majesty.

Is it a Buddhist general?
The little novice in the Buddhist hall knocked on the wooden fish and chanted the Buddha's name softly and solemnly. Misty and illusory scriptures burst out from the mouth of the child. At this moment, the wind and snow in the Darong Temple were shaking, and more than a dozen robes were swaying with the wind. All of them were silent at the moment silent.

Putting his hands together, his face is pious.

Make a wish without making a sound.

The incense is lingering, and the faint sound of chanting is lingering.

The immaturity on Little Monk Qingshi's face disappeared a little. As one of the five evildoers, he was so young that it was enviable.

Qingshi looked compassionate, closed his eyes, and emitted a faint Buddha power.

The red sandalwood started to burn faster for no reason.

Those who are eligible to enter the Buddhist temple with His Majesty all have their own thoughts and wishes, and at this moment, even Qing Li, who was born in the demon clan, stood behind, closed her demon pupils, and made a wish quietly.

There are all living beings and appearances in the Buddhist temple.

Tang Xiaoman's smile slowly faded, Patriarch Su and Su Yu looked solemn, Miss Zhong frowned slightly.

Tens of millions of living beings.

There are thousands of doubts in my heart.

There are countless answers.

Only His Majesty's face remained unchanged, neither happy nor angry, angry or sad, but all the signs of life were reflected on his face.

After a while.

Xiao Wang saluted slightly.

Qingshi slowly returned the gift.

When I looked up again, the red sandalwood in the incense burner had turned to ashes, as white as snow.

The real pure place of Buddhism, free from dust.

Pray for the new year.

Pray for the new year, and all wishes come true.

A hexagram stick in the incense burner was gently pulled out by Xiao Wang.

His Majesty didn't look at the sign, and directly handed the wooden sign to Qingshi. After handing over the sign, his expression was flat, and he took a step back, looking at the young supervisor.

Qingshi took the sign with both hands.

He glanced at the divination sign.

The voice of chanting sutras in the Buddhist hall became more and more solemn, and all the young novice monks looked forward to the back of their little masters and uncles fluttering in green robes.

This young supervisor who was considered by the whole world to be the reincarnated Bodhisattva paused slightly after reading the hexagram sign.

silence.

With his back to Qiliang and everyone, only Xiao Wang who was facing Qingshi face to face, looked at the childish face on the opposite side, pulled the corners of his lips slightly, and smiled silently.

Qingshi slowly rubbed the wooden stick with his fingertips, exerting great force.

He suddenly said loudly: "The hexagram sign is auspicious!"

The snow in the sky stopped.

When the strong wind blew, the appearance of the young Bodhisattva holding up the hexagram stick was frozen in his mind.

The word Daji, which is bright red to a little scarlet on the wooden sign, is unforgettable for everyone.

The chanting of Buddhist names in the Buddhist hall has reached its peak.

For some reason, the atmosphere was somewhat tragic.

Xiao Wang bowed his head and saluted.

This time the young supervisor did not return the gift.

He held up the hexagram lottery, and signed the auspiciousness like blood, but his face was as pale as snow.

For the color of great auspiciousness, the redder the better, these two characters are like blood red.

His Majesty Qi Liang saluted, and everyone followed suit.

His Majesty raised his head, and said seriously to the young supervisor in front of him, "Buddhism should flourish."

This sentence is like a blessing.

More like a promise.

Qingshi smiled and nodded.

When the circulation of carriages and horses resumed and Qiliang's Majesty and other important figures left the Darong Temple, the crowd who wanted to make a wish was blocked again.

The Darong Temple is closed.

The young monks who were in charge of closing the door explained seriously to the crowd: "My uncle is not feeling well today, so it is not suitable to make noise, so I specially closed the door for a day."

There were still two people in the Darong Temple who did not leave with the team.

The little novice couldn't do anything to them, and his eyes widened, but what he got in exchange was the rogue-like ignorance of the other party.

Su Fu picked up the blood-red hexagram stick, and was smeared with finger blood on the wooden stick with the word Daji, which was unavoidably shocking.

Qingshi smiled weakly and said, "Your Majesty specially took a blank lottery for me."

Su Fu was silent for a moment, then stretched out a hand to wipe the blood on the wooden stick, but found nothing.

Song Zhiqing looked at the little monk Qingshi who was sitting cross-legged on the spot, and said seriously, "It can't be wiped off, this is the real blood of the Bodhisattva."

Young Master Su looked at the monk sitting cross-legged on the ground, and said hoarsely, "Why are you doing this?"

Qingshi shook his head and said: "I am not the only one who can decide whether Buddhism will rise or fall. These are all in the mind of Your Majesty. The poor monk wishes that the incense in the temple behind him will last for a hundred years. Donating some blood is nothing."

Su Fu sneered, and said: "Your cultivation has retreated a lot at least. The world says that you are the evildoer who is most likely to compete with Beixian among the five people. If you donate your real body blood today, you will be regarded as an opponent. Qin's Dongjun, I'm afraid there is no chance of winning."

Qingshi shook his head with a smile, and said: "No problem. The poor monk doesn't want to provoke right and wrong. Let these gossip and gossip go with them."

Song Zhiqing was silent for a moment, and said seriously: "This is taking your blood to support tens of thousands of people in Qiliang. Qiliang is already very prosperous, why is it so?"

Qingshi replied softly: "Your Majesty, I hope that your knees will be safe."

First Major Su inserted the wooden stick back into the incense burner, and the incense wafted up. The wooden stick was soaked in the Bodhisattva's real blood and could not be incinerated by the high temperature. It had to wait for a year before it would be wiped out by itself.

Su Fu murmured softly: "The prosperity must decline, this is the eternal truth in the world. Your Majesty has not dared to allow Qi Liang to prosper for many years, recharging his energy and recharging his energy only to wait for that war to break out. Now I have asked for a lucky lottery. Winding, it is a good thing that Qi Liang will reach the peak next year, but I am worried that if we forcibly increase our luck, it will cause bad luck."

"The entanglement of wish power, karma retribution." Song Da Daosheath said softly: "This is what the master often said when he was alive. His old man said that the heavenly law recurs, and no one can escape it."

Qingshi rubbed his brows and said with a smile: "The poor monk is willing to donate the rest of his real blood for Qi Liang next year."

All the little novice monks looked at their little masters.

They listened ignorantly and didn't quite understand the truth.

What Bodhisattva's real body blood.

What is the cause and effect of will.

They don't understand.

But when they saw the Master of the Supervisory Court rubbing the center of his eyebrows, blood began to ooze from the center of his eyebrows, the heavy snow was swaying, the Master's face was bright red, and there was a hint of oldness between his brows and eyes.

Some young novice monks covered their lips to prevent themselves from crying.

The green-robed man sitting in the wind and snow was solemn and solemn, but smiled and said to the many young monks behind him: "Don't cry."

Su Fu looked at Qingshi seriously.

Sitting cross-legged, the aura of the little monk continued to decay as the blood of the Bodhisattva's real body overflowed, and his realm fell and fell again.

Song Zhiqing was also silent.

Using one's own strength to convey the national fortune to Qi and Liang, what kind of cultivation should be against the sky?
That wooden stick couldn't be burnt out, couldn't perish, so Qi Liang kept absorbing luck from him until his cultivation was exhausted.

Is it worth it just for Xiao Wang's words "Buddhism should prosper"?

Su Fu suddenly sensed an unexplained surge of qi, and a faint green awn glowed from Qingshi's forehead.

Sitting cross-legged in the wind and snow, the young monk had a green glow on his forehead, and a stone tablet not far away also had a green glow.

Su Fu was a little stunned.

Song Zhiqing, who was leaning under the big banyan tree, kept his expression indifferent.

Song Dajian's master died at the gate of hell.

He naturally knew that the gate of ghosts used to be the ashram of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, and most of the masters of the previous generation died in battle there. Even the master sword master who had achieved good fortune could only seal the gate of ghosts for a short time.

And the blue stone in front of him is undoubtedly the reincarnation of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.

He is the reincarnation of the Bodhisattva that Lord Sword Master waited for.

After coming to the human world in this life, as long as you collect the souls of all six realms and restore your cultivation, you can re-seal the gate of ghosts.

So Song Zhiqing never thought that Qingshi would stop at rank nine.

As soon as that green light appeared, Qingshi's aura improved greatly.

His right hand is in the seal of nectar, and his left hand is slightly raised, holding a precious orb in vain, with a solemn Dharma appearance.

The green awn on the top of the head condensed into a human form.

The second soul of Ksitigarbha.

Orb Tibetan.

The soul of this orb Ksitigarbha was found by Qingshi a long time ago, for more than a year, it is almost merged with Qingshi at this moment, but it seems to be pulling.

Pulled outward.

It's not the soul that doesn't want to enter.

But Qingshi is unwilling.

The little monk looked at the stele of Master, and said softly, "Master, I'm fine."

He waved his hand to summon the soul of Li Baozhu Bodhisattva, but found that the master's soul was as stubborn as usual, and kept drilling into his body.

Qingshi said helplessly: "Be good, be obedient."

The soul of Baozhu Bodhisattva shook his head.

The corners of Qingshi's eyes were slightly red, but his voice was more gentle: "Master, I just want to stay with you for a little longer, just a little longer."

Baozhu Bodhisattva pulled the corner of his mouth slightly, as if smiling.

Qingmang returned to his place.

The heavy snow was silent, and the Buddhist temple returned to silence.

(End of this chapter)