When Xin Yuan opened his eyes again, it was already midday. He screamed awful in his heart, jumped up hurriedly and rushed out, but bumped into the person who came in. He looked up and his heart jumped. It turned out that the second senior who was in charge of the precepts came in. I really want to do whatever I want. Just now, Xinyuan thought that I didn’t do morning class today. Maybe someone would tell the second brother. I didn’t expect that I would have encountered it here, and I was arrested without even going out. . The second brother Fang Jing is the second largest disciple of Shaolin Temple, about forty years old. When Huiming was still the first seat of the Bodhidharma Hall, he had already entered the Shamen. He worshiped Huiming as his teacher. He is the Shaolin who is second only to the senior brother Fang Qing. One of the four masters, and the only person in the temple except the abbot who is proficient in all grappling hands and all Shaolin claws. In addition, he has an upright personality, a few words, and an indifferent expression. Since he is in charge of the precepts to reward and punish fairness, everyone respects him. . Xinyuan was always a little frightened with this second brother. When he saw him, he couldn't help but get a little hairy in his heart: "It's over, I must go to grow vegetables again this time." He thought to himself, but said: "Second brother. Morning, I'm going to do morning class..."
Fang Jing's expression was dumb, and she said coldly, "No, go to the vegetable garden to grow vegetables for half a month. The old Motou who is guarding the vegetable garden has fallen ill these past two days, you help him."
Xinyuan spit out his tongue, and said in his heart: "Unlucky." With a helpless look on his face, he said, "Then what about my martial arts? Master asked you to teach me how to catch my hand."
Fang Jing still said blankly, "If you behave well in half a month, I will come back. I will teach you then. Now clean up and move to the vegetable garden!"
Xinyuan couldn't help it. He was really respectful and scared of this second senior, so he had to say "yes" and moved to the vegetable garden.
The old Motou guarding the vegetable garden was a withered old man in his sixties, with gray hair and hunched back. He walked around and wandered around, making people worried that he would be blown down by a gust of wind. Xinyuan had been to the vegetable garden many times before, but instead of planting vegetables, he and other monks took water from the river below the mountain to pour the vegetables, or fertilized the grown-up vegetable seedlings, and also helped the fireman and the cabinet. Children carry firewood and send vegetables. Lao Mo was always busy all day long, even when he was not alive, he was very skilled and could do carpentry work. This became his only choice to pass the time when he was bored. And he is very talkative, always talking non-stop, talking to himself has become another hobby of him. These are all the monks in the temple know more clearly. It has been more than half a year since Xinyuan entered the Shaolin Temple. Of course he knew very well about Lao Motou.
There are two huts in the vegetable garden, one is for hoes and other tools, and the other is where Old Mo's head sleeps. After Xinyuan moved to Caiyuanzi, he lived in a hut with Lao Motou. After Xinyuan made the bed, he lay down on Erlang's legs and looked at the old Motou who was boiling water. He only heard him say: "Autumn is deep, cough and cough... It will be winter in half a month, and I can finally relax. last year, the coffin is not done, it is almost a ... Ahem ... "he spoke always cough a few times, the whole body trembled, oozing thin beads of sweat to the forehead.
Xinyuan suddenly asked: "What coffin? Who made it for?"
Old Mo head said: "I have lived for so many years, and I have lived enough. The life in Shaolin Temple is leisurely. I wanted to have a variety of dishes for two years. Cough..."
"So this coffin was made for you? Do you have any family members?" Xinyuan asked, but thought in his heart: "Looking at what he looks like, he is indeed about to die. I don't know if there will be any after he died. People care about him, take him for funeral?"
Old Motou's hand suddenly shook, his face changed drastically, and a firewood fell on the ground, but he didn't seem to notice it. After a while, he sighed and said, "Some people will be dressed in the funeral after death, cough cough, but some people don’t have to, because they will first dig the pit, put the coffin in, and put on the clothes. Lie in there, coughing, coughing, coughing, coughing and coughing."
Xinyuan heard it, and suddenly there was a hint of pity in his heart. He changed his position to lie down, leaned on his side, with his head resting on his arm, and said: "Lie in the coffin yourself? How is that possible? Do you know when you die? ?"
"It is said that before death, people will go back to their lives, see things clearly in their lives, and know things in the ground clearly, cough cough cough... There are many people who show fear before they die because they see themselves. For the evil they did when they were alive, the little devil would punish them after they went to hell, cough, some people were very peaceful and peaceful when they died..." With this, Old Mo looked at the burning firewood under the kettle, dumbfounded. Trance. The fire reflected the wrinkles and gullies on his face, and the lines were distinct, just like cracks in the dry ground.
Xinyuan looked at Old Motou's face that seemed to be much older than his actual age, his heart suddenly became heavy, and he didn't want to listen anymore. He turned over and sat up, and said, "I will go outside to practice, call me if I have something to do, and I can hear it." After speaking, he walked out.
The outside air is cold and fresh, which is obviously more pleasant than the smell of firewood in the house. Xinyuan took a deep breath and began to review the skills he had learned before. When he finished all the martial arts he knew in one breath, he was already sweating. He walked to the stone next to him and sat down to rest, but he thought to himself: "Tossing for a night last night, but the martial arts did not integrate, but was fined here. What is the problem?"
He rethinks the moves of last night, but there is often a little difference between the two moves. Although they can barely connect, they can't be smooth and smooth, and they always feel obstructive. The more he thought about it, the more confused his mind was. Later, he only felt upset in his chest and breathless. He couldn't help but get irritable. He slammed his fist on the ground and stood up and walked into the house.
At this time, the sun was in the sky, and Old Mo was cleaning the house. Xinyuan was still bored about martial arts, so he didn't say a word after entering the house, lying on the bed pretending to sleep. Old Mo's head coughed and said to himself: "Everything in the temple is good, clean, peaceful, without contention, but there are many precepts, one must be followed, and the other must be paid attention to, so some people feel that they are everywhere. I got in the way, and finally hit the mountain gate and went out of the ordinary, alas, alas, cough..."
Hearing my heart far away, my heart moved, and I felt the same. Since he entered the Shaolin Temple, there have been more than one thousand clear rules and precepts. But since he is a Shaolin disciple, he has to abide by the temple's rules and cannot go beyond without permission. If you break the precepts, the precepts are the place to punish the monks who do not follow the rules. At this time, the old Motou said that someone dared to go down the mountain for this. He was very surprised. He opened his eyes and asked, "What? Someone dared to do this? Is his martial arts better than the master and the four seniors?"
Old Motou sneered, and said: "The world is so big, there are dragons and tigers everywhere, cough, cough, those people are naturally inferior to the abbot, but they are not much worse than the masters of the square character generation. Not to mention fighting. At the mountain gate, the abbot could not stop him, he could only go to the Luohantang, cough cough..."
Xinyuan interjected: "Luohantang is in charge of the big brother..."
Old Motou said: "The talents of Shaolin Temple have faded in recent decades, and there hasn't been a monk who dared to rebel out of the gate. Cough-cough, cough-cough..." Lao Motou's cough became worse and worse, and he gasped for a few times. Then he continued: "It was a long, long time ago. According to legend, it was two hundred years ago when the Great Grandpa swept Yu Nei..." As he said, Lao Mo looked up at the window, dreaming, his face was full of thoughts. The feeling of admiration.