Poor Monk

Chapter 13: Heart flower ┃ butterfly waiting for the flower to bloom

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The wooden Buddha beads have a very unique sound when they fall to the ground.

Not very heavy, not very crisp.

But when it fell in his ears, it had become a vague voice far away in the sky, like the thunder that sounded in the distant swamp in ancient times...

Consciousness, momentarily detached.

It felt so familiar to him...

It was clearly a precursor to the attack of the Liuhe Divine Art, but he clearly remembered that in the past, these precursors appeared seven days before the attack.

Now, it's too early

An ominous premonition invaded Shen Du's whole person.

The strangeness in the pulses caused all the meridians in his body, whether they were restored or still blocked, to be accompanied by pain.

The cold sweat on his forehead immediately dripped down.

The onset of the precursor won't kill him, but it happens in this kind of place. At this time, it can kill people!

Nobody knows—

When will the legendary Buddhist monk Zenzai come back!

The entire Jianghu is pressing the Tianji Temple to ask about his whereabouts.

Now he is able to hide in the sea of bamboo without anyone knowing. But what if it was discovered now

People are knives, I am fish.

How could he tolerate such a state

His face was as pale as paper, and his whole body was convulsed by the onset of this precursor, but Shen Du actually exerted force and bit the tip of his tongue!

The heart-piercing pain immediately restored the will that was on the verge of collapse.

In those eyes that were as dark as a deep well, a trace of suffocation came out, thick as a cloud.

At this time, he even forcibly controlled himself, picked up the bead that had fallen on the ground, and put it back in the box.

Then close it quickly and push it back into place.

He could no longer care to check whether there was anything he wanted in the interior, and while no one was returning from the palace at this time, he jumped up and used all his spare strength at the moment to fly away from the palace!

The lights in the temple are sporadic and dim.

When his figure passed by, it was just like a gust of overcast wind, with a little snow falling on the enclave and walls.

The moonlight came out, and it was white.

Shen Du stumbled back to the bamboo hut.

Just after turning around and pressing the door, he couldn't hold it any longer, and fell to the ground, unconscious.

In the darkness, he dreamed again.

This time, I didn't dream of killing people, nor did I dream of Pei Wuji.

He dreamed of Gu Zhao.

A person who actually has nothing to do with him, a person who is admired by all the people of the right way.

At that time, he was arrogant and daring when he achieved a small success in the Six Harmonies Divine Art.

I heard that there was a disciple named Gu Zhao in Pengshan, who commented that "the wind returns to the snow, and the mind can banish the immortals", so he was named "the first immortal of Pengshan", and he felt mischievous for a while.

It was the twenty-first day of the third month of the year, and spring returned to the earth.

He entrusted everything in the Demon Dao to Pei Wuji, who had just used all his means to climb to the position of the left envoy of Jiantian Cliff. He crossed the sea alone and went to Pengshan to meet Gu Zhao.

The bright moon on the sea is born with the tide.

On Chiyun Reef, sixteen miles east of Pengshan, there was a bloody battle between the two. Jianghu people called him "the first immortal", Shen Du felt over-acclaimed at first, but only after the fight did he realize that the opponent's cultivation and martial arts were really worth it.

But what he practiced was the Six Harmonies God Art after all, and he had to be one step ahead of the other party.

In the end, Gu Zhao was defeated.

In the dream, he stood as he remembered.

A blue shirt.

The waves crashed against the shore, and the rolling tide was snow-white, making Gu Zhaoren stand like a beautiful jade in the Immortal Palace of Yaotai. A pair of Xiu narrow eyes are detached and calm, as if there is no battle, no loss, and no point at his throat with his rainbow sword.

He asked, "My Liuhe Divine Art is famous all over the world, how dare you fight?"

Gu Zhao asked back: "Pengshan's method of three purifications and transformations has been famous for a long time, why do I dare not?"

He smiled again: "Then you are wrong, and you will die if you come wrong."

Gu Zhao didn't panic at all, and smiled: "If you wanted to kill me, you would have already done it. Apart from you and me, there is no one else here. Lord Shen."

In this world, we can't be without Gu, and we can't be without Taoist Shen.

The sound was like a rock on the shore, beaten by the tide and hit by the sound of the tide, but it hit his ears so clearly, not a word fell, not a word was blurred.

A record five years, until now.

When I think about it again in the dream, it's all clear.

The moment he woke up and opened his eyes, Shen Du thought: He actually wanted to kill Gu Zhao, but he didn't kill him in the end, should it be for this sentence

He was covered with a thick blanket, which was warm.

Dim light penetrated through the crevices of his eyes, and there was a faint sound of "gudugudu" bubbling water in the room, and then he could clearly see the already familiar roof above his head.

These days, every time I open my eyes, I see it.

He is in the bamboo hut.

Still in bed.

So it was easy to deduce that it was the monk who came back.

"cough cough..."

The throat was a little uncomfortable, Shen Du coughed twice, turned his head to the side, and saw the stove in the house, as well as the hot porridge and medicine on the stove.

It's dark outside.

Lights were lit in the house.

The monk didn't pound the medicine or copy the scriptures. He just sat cross-legged in the house with a scroll of scriptures spread out in front of him.

is chanting.

It just didn't make a sound.

About the Buddhist beads of Tianji Temple are similar, and the monk holds eighteen beads in this string. At first glance, it is exactly the same as the string he saw in the apse of the Thousand Buddhas Hall.

But Shen Du didn't think much about it.

He just looked at the silhouette of the monk, and after another evaluation, he knew that he had been in a coma for at least a whole day: when he went to visit the Thousand Buddhas Hall that day, the monk had already come, but now it is night again, and he appeared in the Bamboo house.

This proves that he found himself the next day and stayed.

"Hey… "

His voice became hoarse again, a little weak.

Shen Du raised his arm, and found that the meridians all over his body were pulling on the ground again, but he could easily feel that his strength had increased by a point or two.

- This is the only "benefit" of backlash.

Can't stand it, it's a "death" word.

But if he can get through it little by little, then his cultivation of the Six Harmonies Divine Art will also go deeper in this kind of hard work.

Correspondingly, the deeper the cultivation level, the more painful the next attack will be.

"Am I in a coma for another day?"

He gritted his teeth forcibly, sat up from the Luohan bed, and stepped on the ground with his bare feet. The feeling of dizziness struck him instantly, causing him to sway, but he quickly regained his footing.

The scripture in front of the monk was halfway through.

Hearing his voice, his slender fingers stopped, and he stopped pinching the beads, then turned his head to look at him, and nodded slightly.

The warm yellow light flickered, illuminating his eyes like black jade.

Shen Du felt a little dazzling.

Probably because this monk is too good-looking, the restlessness in his heart became more and more obvious.

The weaker the person, the stronger the cultivation base, and the heavier the breeding of evil thoughts.

At this moment, he raised his hand and pressed his temple, and also took the opportunity to block his sullen eyes, and when he put down his hand, there was no clue.

"Is this porridge and this medicine for me?"

Walking to the stove, Shen Du took a look, already had some experience, and asked directly.

Then, without waiting for the monk to answer, he stretched out his hand, and without using anything to cushion it, he first brought out the hot porridge inside.

There was still a fire under the stove.

The temperature of this bowl is definitely not low. But when he picked it up, he didn't feel the slightest bit, just like holding an ordinary porcelain bowl.

The monk's eyes stayed on his hand for a moment before slowly turning away.

Then he walked up, took a wet handkerchief that was soaked in water, took out the medicine bowl on the pad, and handed it to Shen Du, who was also holding the porridge bowl.

Shen Du suddenly frowned: "Drink the medicine first?"

The monk nodded again.

Shen Du was actually empty in his stomach, and he didn't think it would be of any use to drink medicine to counteract this problem. Just seeing the monk holding the medicine bowl like this, even if there is a layer of wet handkerchief, the fingertips are scalded red...

Suddenly I couldn't bear it.

He turned his eyes and glanced at the monk, then turned his hand and put the medicine bowl on the table beside him, and then took the porridge bowl over, but he said sarcastically: "Ugly people are more at fault, especially when they are monks. It's empty inside, I can spit it out for you after drinking this medicine."

"… "

The monk's eyes were warm, and he looked back at him, with a slight smile on the corner of his lips.

Not angry either.

Seeing that he was willing to drink the medicine, he didn't care about what he said, turned around and sat back on the futon, holding the Buddha beads, and silently reciting the scriptures.

Shen Du was inexplicably angry again.

He only felt that these slight smiles from the other party showed an indescribable taste, which was different from the previous disapproval and coldness, but a bit of a feeling of spring blossoms.

Hearing people call him ugly, don't you feel it

When a bald donkey, really bear it.

He has scolded the ugly 10,000 times in his heart. Even though I had the Divine Art Qigong to protect my body, I didn't feel hot, but I couldn't drink the medicine for the time being, so I just put it down again.

He was in a coma for a day, and his mind was still a little dizzy.

At this time, I didn't want to lie back on the bed, so I just sat behind the desk.

There should be pen and ink decorations on the case.

Since he crushed the ant and offended the monk, he only served meals to himself and did not copy Buddhist scriptures in the house. So this book case became his use.

The location of the display is also according to his habits.

But at the moment of sitting down, Shen Du felt that something was wrong.

The decorations on the case have moved.

He didn't bother to wash his pen and ink after using it, and would just put it on the mountain of pens. But now the long tube of sheep's small pen is hanging on the pen stand in front of the desk, with the nib facing down, clean.

Other things on the case have also become neat and tidy, no longer random.

This style...

It was clear that it was not himself, but what the monk did when he sat cross-legged in the corner and recited the scriptures.

Mostly sitting here and copying scriptures.

Shen Du immediately raised his eyebrows.

But after thinking that this is not his own territory, let alone his own things, no matter how upset he is, he can only hold it back, so he didn't say anything, just stretched out to the bookshelf.

He wanted to take out a volume of Buddhist scriptures and read it to relieve the boredom, so that he could wait for the medicine and porridge to cool down.

But when his fingers just touched the scroll of Buddhist scriptures on the far left, the corner of his eye inadvertently swept the celadon painting vase on the side of the table.

Inside, there are scrolls of Buddhist paintings.

Shen Du watched it when he was bored, and remembered it clearly: there were only four scrolls and four paintings in the tank. These days, one is not much, and one is not less.

But now, there are five volumes in it.

One more

He became a little curious, and when he saw the hand that was about to take down the Buddhist scriptures, he turned and took out the apparently new scroll from the painting vat.

With a flick of his wrist and his fingers, the scroll opened in front of his eyes.

It is not a Buddhist painting.

But a Chunlan.

The stretched orchid leaves and the blooming orchids show a random edge in every point, and every stroke hides a deep sense of loneliness. It's not independence, but disdain!

The whole painting is soaked in a strong sense of hostility.

The only unblooming orchid in the painting accentuated the hostility.

It is the center of the whole painting, and its existence destroys the artistic conception of the whole painting, like a beast attacking from the ice and snow, trying to devour everything; it is also like a secret prison, imprisoning everything.

Not only a picture of Chunlan, but also the one he painted that day!

only…

Compared with the appearance when it was painted, there are a few more changes on it.

Shen Du's pale fingers pressed against the edge of the frame, and at this moment, he trembled involuntarily.

The dim light fills the frame.

The wild spring orchid that bloomed in the middle of winter is still there, but above the one that has never bloomed, a few strokes have been added to it, and it has been drawn into a lifelike butterfly.

The colored wings swayed gently, and the posture was graceful.

It is closing its wings.

The body leaned forward and fell towards the bottom.

The surrounding is obviously one after another blooming orchid, the orchid calyx stretches, but it has fallen to the one that has not bloomed for a long time and is unwilling to bloom...

Butterfly, waiting for flowers to bloom.

Full of anger, it was immediately swept away.

Perhaps the painter's brushstrokes are too soft, or the lights at night are too warm, so that when the butterfly falls, one can see a warm and bright persistence, a kind of waiting with pure zen heart.

Shen Du blinked and looked at the silent back of the monk.

smooth.

generous.

Shen Ning did not move.

Although it looked like a statue and could not see the front, he knew that his face was solemn and solemn with the unique treasure of Buddhism...

Eyes down.

He raised his fingertips and touched it gently, but it landed on the butterfly in the painting, feeling slightly cool to the touch. It seemed to emit a faint glow under the dim yellow light.

Warmth.

Shen Du suddenly thought that the butterfly did not land on the flower, but spread its wings and flew into his heart.