He and It

He lowered his head and smiled apologetically: I'm sorry, I'm not an omnipotent God. But in the end, God cannot be perfect and do whatever he wants. I have seen hypocritical gods, cruel gods, and I have seen ruthless gods. God, I have also seen a pained God, a weeping God, and I have seen a God who cannot get what he asks for - the look of Him crying sadly is no different from any fragile mortal in the world.

You go, the immortal said at last, die today and be reborn tomorrow. The test you give me now is just a preview of your own ending in the future.

The weak patient's expression changed. He suddenly became violent and roared: You are so brazen. How many gods have you seen? I will definitely make you regret it.

The God of Baixiang left angrily. The immortal looked at the stretching mountains in the distance and smiled.

One, he said. This is the only god left in the world.

After this, the God of Hundreds of Appearances came many times.

He became a priest, a monk, a high-ranking prince and aristocrat, and he also became a thief, a swineherd, and a homeless man with no clothes on. His appearance is constantly changing, sometimes noble, sometimes humble, sometimes powerful and arrogant, sometimes weak and humble.

However, no matter what he becomes, the immortal can always recognize his identity unmistakably. The God of Hundreds of Appearances was frustrated. He thought that maybe things needed to be solved in a different way. He would use cruel violence to dig out the eyes and tongue of the immortal, making him blind and speechless.

One evening, the fog slowly descended to the ground, the sunset became dim, and spiral clouds filled the sky, meandering like a dream.

The immortal was sitting under the ginkgo tree. At this time, there were no believers seeking to see him, only an old man on crutches walked out of the mist shakily.

I don't believe you, the old man said straight to the point, You are not my god.

The immortal raised his eyes and looked at him kindly.

Ah, please don't argue with me. The immortal said, Whoever you believe in, you will walk into his arms. If you don't believe in anyone, you still have your own feet to measure your life.

The old man's eyes became more gloomy, and he asked directly: What magic tricks did you use to make fools obsessed with you? Both men and women respect you very much. If you don't speak, the gold, silver, wealth and silk have rolled in like the tide. At your feet, but you live in a dilapidated altar, with neither luxurious clothes nor a magnificent golden body.

He curled his lips with great disdain.

It's hard to blame for your enchantment, the old man said sternly, which has blinded so many fools and deceived their hearts.

The immortal gently put down a ginkgo leaf. What's the difference between a man and a woman? he asked. As long as you long for warmth and look forward to being loved, you must not escape my grasp. People are phototactic like moths.

He sighed: I am the Supreme Good.

The old man had a livid face and said nothing.

You have asked me so many questions, the sage said, now, I want to ask you one too.

The god of all forms responded with rage and glare.

The immortal said: You have changed into many shapes, trying to differentiate between me and me, including many of your own people. You have become a beggar, a farmer who has lost his son, a poor widow, and a man who is tortured by the priests. The humiliated prisoners...you took advantage of their pain and tried to deceive me. However, you clearly know everything they have endured in the past, why are you still indifferent?

The God of Hundreds of Appearances looked at him steadily and answered his question with a question.

Are you seeking my love for them? Baixiang laughed, Are you the humble prostitute you seek? The road to becoming a god is so narrow that only one person can pass, and you are so naive, perhaps because You have never tasted the feeling of falling into the dust and being degraded.

After suffering such humiliation, the immortal was not angry, but just calmly meditated.

I once fell into the longest and darkest abyss in the world, he nodded briefly. All the pain I experienced there was so terrible that it made my heart palpitate. It was so vivid that it seemed like it happened yesterday. I didn't have a day. Forget, as much as I want to forget it.”

“Maybe my innocence will never be erased,” he said. “Maybe it will, but not now.”

Baixiang had already shown his majestic appearance. He roared loudly and pressed his palm as broad as the mountains and seas, intending to suppress the immortal.

I will become a god, His voice echoed in all things. At that time, I will no longer be a hundred forms, I will be ten thousand aspects, billions of aspects. Everyone in the world will be me, and I will be For everyone, neither alive nor dead, neither transformed nor destroyed, I want my left hand to hold the throat of reincarnation, and my right hand to trap the pulse of time. I want the sun, moon and stars to all tremble and tremble for me!

The immortal thought thoughtfully: Maybe in a sense, you are more naive than me.

Baixiang became more and more angry. He roared loudly and vowed to use tyrannical violence to make the immortals kneel down and surrender.

You are defective, the god determinedly judged. You are an evil person with no intention and no body, and you are even more false. If you go against me, you will seek your own death.

The immortal's white robe twisted in the rolling mist. He jumped off the altar. A very small and crisp pop sounded in the air. He had turned into a slender egret. From the palm prints of the God of Hundreds of Appearances fly away.

It rides on the clouds and mist, avoids the God's fingers as thick as rivers, reaches the steep back of His hand, and crosses the veins as dark green as mountains and undulating as mountains.

The egret flies into the sky, its wings blowing away the clouds and mist, like a small silver boat riding the wind and waves, appearing and disappearing in the snow-white sea water. The God of Hundreds of Appearances was eagerly looking for his figure, but his figure soaring into the sky was too tall, and his slender neck and slender red feet were so small.

The egret cleverly landed on the shoulder of the God of Hundreds of Appearances. It flew towards the golden ear, as if flying over a plain as smooth as a mirror. There was nothing in the wilderness except for the years and years that had drained countless believers dry. The gold shines lonely.

It had reached His ear, and stood cunningly on a huge gem hanging from the earring.

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