For a moment, Beikong was speechless. He recited "Amitabha", and then changed his sentence and said, "Since Your Highness is so stubborn, I can only take you back to the mountains for meditation and reflection."
As he spoke, he took out a string of rosary beads directly from his arms, held the rosary beads flat with his left hand, and started to move them one by one.
"Your Highness has great martial arts skills and is an unparalleled genius. However, Your Highness knows that there is a precious thing in this world called a magical weapon. The magical weapon is extremely powerful, and even with peerless martial arts, it may not be able to resist it.
The string of rosary beads in Lao Na's hand happens to be the magical weapon left by Xiao Tathagata, the master of Daleiyin Temple. Although the magical power has been reduced over time, if you want to capture His Highness, you can still do it. "
When Xia Ji heard that he didn't answer his question, but held tightly the magic weapon made of thirty-three rosary beads, he asked lightly: "If you hold on to something, will you be fearless?"
"Then what do you need to look at? If you hold a diamond magic weapon, you will naturally have nothing to fear when facing evil spirits and heretics." A hint of vague pride flashed in Beikong's eyes.
"Beikong, what kind of Zen are you practicing?!"
Beikong ignored the prince and just said, "I'll ask you one more question, is your highness determined not to regret it?"
Xia Ji sneered: "The name of the divine monk is not worthy of its name. Leiyin Temple has also declined after all. Apart from a few secrets and a few magical weapons, nothing has been passed down."
Hearing this, Beikong interrupted him directly and snorted: "Then don't blame me for being rude."
As he spoke, he said no more, and his pupils suddenly opened. The eyes are the place where the human spirit is concentrated. At this time, the pair of eyes without sadness and joy turned into great sadness and great joy, and actually showed a faint light.
His spirit had reached its peak. With a flick of his left hand, the thirty-three rosary beads suddenly disappeared, and then a bright golden light appeared in the center of his palm.
The Zen spirit lingers and the Buddha's light blooms.
Beikong pushed out his palm and roared angrily: "Bah!"
The golden light kept growing and blooming in his palm, and then rapidly grew in size at a speed that could just be detected by human visual nerves.
After a thought, it turned into a golden swastika!
The swastika was spinning rapidly.
Passing through ten feet of space.
The seventh prince of Shang Dynasty seemed to have not reacted, but the swastika had already fallen on him.
As soon as it touched his body, it turned into dazzling golden light and penetrated into his body.
Then, layers of golden light appeared under Xia Ji's skin, binding him up.
The anger on Beikong's face disappeared, and he smiled and said: "Amitabha, even if your Highness can defeat the ghosts, you will not be able to escape the shackles of the magic weapon in a mortal body. Just follow me."
Xia Ji did not move, but suddenly raised his voice and said: "The emptiness is color, and the form is also emptiness. Everything is conditioned, and everything is non-attachment."
Finish this verse.
The seventh prince of Dashang easily tore away the golden light that bound him,
Grab this string of thirty-three rosary beads in your hand,
He glanced at Beikong, who was dumbfounded, and said calmly: "This bead binding barrier is not binding people. Since I can't bind it, it means I have no attachments.
It's just that Master Beikong bound me with this bead, but I don't know if I have any attachments? "
Beikong said slowly: "Give me the rosary..."
Xia Ji chuckled lightly, and then just as he said, he threw the already dim thirty-three rosary beads far away.
The holy monk hurriedly took it and put it in his arms.
Looking up again, the prince across from him actually took out a string of 108 rosary beads from his arms.
Sad Kong:…
Xia Ji had a rosary wrapped around his left hand. The gods had no thoughts, and his vast Zen mind was attached to the rosary.
The beads disappeared in an instant,
It became a golden light that was so dazzling that people couldn't open their eyes.
Then slowly push out with your left hand.
The golden light surged rapidly, and instead of forming a swastika, it directly followed the movement of his palm and turned into a huge golden Buddha's hand!
This Buddha's hand hangs high above Beikong's head, spanning the entire bridge, and is ten feet long from front to back.
Pause for a moment.
Xia Ji asked calmly: "Can a monk be stubborn?"
Beikong looked at the Buddha's hand in disbelief and fell into silence.
Before he could answer, the golden giant Buddha's hand was slapped down.
boom!
The giant Buddha's hand suppressed it.
Covering the entire bridge and surrounding lakes.
But the strange thing is,
The water remains unmoved,
The bridge has not moved,
Nothing around is moved
But Beikong moved. He was suppressed to the ground by the huge Buddha's hand, his face looked painful and tormented.
Xia Ji asked softly: "Beikong, what kind of Zen have you practiced?"
Beikong's whole body was trembling. He wanted to speak, but it felt like he was in an endless hell. His body was burned by the fierce heat of the Abi fire, and all his sins were burned.
Xia Ji shook his head: "Beikong, even if someone else would still lose to me, I really don't like you."
After saying this, he turned around and never looked at the holy monk again.
The golden Buddha's hand also fell away. As the prince's palm moved, the hundred and eight rosary beads wrapped around his wrist again, and were quietly plucked by his left thumb.
one two three four five six seven…
Eighty-ninety-one…
…
Counting to one hundred and eight means counting all the troubles and obsessions of all sentient beings.
Even if you don't cut it off, you can still see it clearly.
We are obviously in trouble, but we think we are superior to others and want to help others cross the river.
Behind him…
Beikong's body remained still, and he knelt down in the direction of Prince Dashang.
Xia Ji glanced at the dead man who was executing Ling Chi: "Go on, remember to take away the monk's rosary beads and Zen staff after you're done."
"Yes, Master!"
After doing this, he came together with the princess again, and walked to the palace on foot without riding in the carriage.
On the arch bridge.
Some people came over curiously, looked at the prostrate monk, and shouted tentatively, "Master Beikong?"
no respond.
"Grandmaster?"
Still no response.
The holy monk maintained his prostrate posture, as if he had become a sculpture.
The people who called him gently stretched out their hands to touch him. This touch seemed to break some kind of balance. The entire body of Monk Beikong actually shattered and turned into countless powders that still maintained their form. When the lake breeze blew , that is, from head to toe, everything was wiped out.
…
After the two returned to the palace, the books that Xia Ji ordered his guards to move from the homes of many evacuated dignitaries had arrived. These books filled the original library. As for those aristocratic families who had not yet left, they sent greeting cards in advance and said they would come. Guanshijia collection of books.
It didn't take long for him to get replies from aristocratic families, expressing their welcome to go.
There is no profit involved in reading books at all. Even if some people in the aristocratic families have evil intentions, they will never stumble on this matter.
Large quantities of books were transported into the palace by carriages, and were sorted into categories to enrich the Scripture Pavilion.
Morning.
Xiwei's brilliance was quickly submerged, and the sunny days for several consecutive days were finally blocked by flying snow.
The door of the Royal Library was pushed open.
Xia Ji looked at the enriched library, and then glanced at the Ninth Princess next to him.
The Ninth Emperor's daughter looked sadly at the heavy snow that covered the ground in white and gradually turned crazier, and sighed softly.
Xia Jidao: "From today onwards, you will recite the book here and don't leave the palace again."
Xia Xiaosu nodded: "Brother, I understand."
Xia Ji cooked a pot of hot tea and placed it in front of the wooden window. An upward white snake emerged from the spout of the pot. Outside the window was a stream of white snow that had accumulated and drowned. If the snow did not stop, at night, the entire imperial capital would be in ruins. Everything will become snow-white, and the world will become submerged in this sea of snow.