Poor Monk

Chapter 2: Dumb Monk ┃ Such a good-looking monk, why is he a mute?

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Shen Du was dreaming.

In the dream, he was carrying a knife, with a curved blade and ferocious tip, but with the heaviest and most solemn red cloud and thunder pattern.

The blade was stained with blood and fell tick tock.

Soon there was a pool at the foot.

Lying in front of him were the warm corpses of a man and a woman, one handsome and the other beautiful, like a couple of gods. But the horror of dying has destroyed these two comforting faces...

Time, fixed at the end of their lives.

They didn't believe that the only son they thought was "kind" and "unsuitable to be a demon Taoist" would be more ruthless than their favorite direct disciple, and even raised a butcher's knife to them.

took a step back.

He seemed a little scared in the dream.

He immediately wanted to throw away the killing knife in his hand, but only then did the hands lift up, and the bodies of the man and woman in front of him disappeared, replaced by a young boy.

And he was handing the knife to him.

The young man looked at his eyes, intertwined with love and hate, like a lost prisoner, unable to get out of the predicament he was in, like a young beast.

Then, tremblingly, he took the knife...

Yes.

The sword he used to kill his father and mother was later given to Pei Wuji, who was still young at the time.

Ten years.

Turns out, it's been so long...

A dreamer is unaware that he is in a dream.

Therefore, after confirming that he was dreaming, Shen Du woke up. All the perceptions returned to him at this moment.

"Tuk, tuk, tuk..."

There was the sound of pounding the pestle from nearby, and there was also a little whistling wind, and occasionally there was a slight "beep" sound, which was the sound of charcoal burning in the stove.

He suddenly felt a little dazed.

I opened my eyes, but it was probably because I had been in a coma for too long and my body was weak.

In his throat, it was more like a broken knife stuck in eleven thousand.

pain.

Painful hoarseness.

Even if he tried his best to make a sound, the words that came out of his throat were not complete, just a little silent scream.

Not dead, but the situation couldn't be worse.

He couldn't even feel any strength in his body, only the pain from the wound in his shoulders and abdomen, and the soreness from the meridians all over his body.

No inner strength at all.

seriously injured.

Let anyone slaughter.

In Shen Du's calm and rational mind, these two words suddenly popped up, and then he understood what kind of situation he was in: All the subconscious getting up and guarding were in vain!

Then the tense body relaxed, and he lay back.

At this time, the eyes were finally clear.

A shrine with a thatched roof, and the four walls are lined with straight bamboos. It can be seen that it is some years old and yellowish; the ground is covered with a layer of clean wood; It is an Arhat bed, placed in the corner of this monastery, and you can see the situation in the room at a glance.

There was a stove next to the bed.

There was a small pot on the stove, with a bowl of white porridge warmed in it; the charcoal fire was burning just right, and it was bright red, which also illuminated the monastery that was originally dimly lit under the oil lamp.

It was already night, and the north wind was knocking against the closed windows, and I couldn't see what was outside.

A simple wooden table was placed under the window, and it could be seen that it should be a place for writing and painting on weekdays, but at this moment there were some bottles and jars and fresh herbs.

A figure is in front of the case.

Tall and thin, wearing a very ordinary moon-white monk robe.

It was a famous monk.

From the oblique rear, his back is very tall and straight; the profile of his face is between Qingjun and Qingrun, which is outlined by the slightly flickering oil lamp on the case, with a little bit of smokey color; head bowed low The eyes are actually focused.

He's making medicine.

The short wooden pestle was held in his hand, controlled with suitable strength, and fell one by one. The "tuk-tuk" pounding sound that Shen Du had heard earlier came from here.

There's a bit of bitter medicine in the air, and...

White sandalwood.

It was the one he had heard when he lost consciousness and fainted in front of the Zhige Monument in Tianji Temple. It was not very strong, faint, faint, but a reassuring gentle fragrance.

Just smelling it at the moment, it's really a lot.

Shen Du's brows suddenly wrinkled.

I don't know if it was because he was too focused, or the wind howling outside was too loud, the monk didn't hear the movement he just made, and still stood in front of the case to make medicine.

So he laboriously raised his fingers and touched the edge of the bed.

Then knocked hard.

"Boom, boom..."

It is said to be hard, but the current Shen Du actually has no strength, so the sound is not particularly loud. But compared to the almost silent hoarse he had just now, it was much better.

At least the monk heard it.

The pounding sound stopped.

The monk turned his head and saw Shen Du, who had opened his eyes, lying on the Arhat bed in the corner.

The blood-soaked robe had been taken off and replaced with a clean white undershirt; the plain-colored quilt was originally covering him, but perhaps because of the action just now, it slipped down a little.

Slim neck, prominent collarbone.

You can vaguely see the traces of the bread tie inside the jacket, and a little bit of blood comes out.

In all fairness, Shen Du's skin is very good, the kind that can be counted on one's fingers.

The eyebrows are long eyebrows cut by ink paintings and swords, and they are stained with a little bit of coldness. The eyes are a pair of Danfeng eyes, but there is no seductive mood of a prodigal son. It is dark and deep, like a deep well, with no bottom visible.

Thin nose and thin lips, cool and delicate.

Totally a gift from the creator.

only-

The temperament revealed by the eyebrows and the whole body is really too lonely, too cold, and too fierce.

In addition to the fierce and evil names that have been accumulated in these years of blood and blood, there are not many people in the world who have the courage to look at him.

At this moment, this monk is probably not one of them.

I don't know if I don't know his identity, or I don't care if I know it. When this monk saw him, his eyes were very peaceful.

It was clearly a cold day, but Shen Du could actually see the warmth of spring from the bottom of his eyes.

His pupils shrank slightly, and he tapped his fingers on the side of the bed and stopped.

He didn't speak.

Because he knew he couldn't make a sound at the moment.

But the strange thing is that the monk didn't speak. Shen Du thought that he should at least say something useless such as "you're awake", but he didn't wait for a long time.

After seeing him awake, the monk didn't show any surprised expression. He only picked up a white pottery teapot on the corner of the desk, poured half a glass of water into the simple teacup, and brought it over.

When the others turned around completely, Shen Du could see his face clearly.

Startled for a while.

"creak, squeak..."

Then he heard the sound of footsteps on the floor. It is the sound of normal people's footsteps, and there is absolutely no habit of people who practice martial arts to control and gather strength.

At this moment, his shriveled pupils opened slightly again.

It was dark in front of him, and the monk had already walked up to him.

First, he carefully lifted him up a little and leaned against the hard pillow behind, and then handed the teacup to his mouth, as if to feed him water.

Shen Du felt inexplicably restless in his heart.

He frowned tightly, didn't open his mouth, just tilted his head to avoid it, only laboriously raised his left arm, which was not injured on the shoulder, and took the tea cup from the other party's hand.

Putting his head down, he took two sips slowly.

Not tea, just plain white water.

warm.

It should have been boiled from the beginning, and it was placed on the case for a while, so the temperature was neither too high nor too low, just right.

The chapped lips were moisturized, and the hoarse and painful throat was relieved. Shen Du finally felt a little better, finally had the strength, and finally made a sound: "You saved me?"

The monk had no special reaction to his kindness being rejected.

Peaceful, without the slightest anger.

The person was next to him, he didn't leave for a while, he just sat down on the low stool beside the bed, opened his right hand that was lying on the outside, put the slightly cool fingertips on his wrist, and checked his pulse. .

Hearing this question, he only slightly lifted his eyes, glanced at him, and nodded slightly.

Still didn't speak.

Shen Du's brows furrowed even deeper, and he continued to ask, "Where is this?"

The monk smiled at him, but did not answer.

"… "

Is there something wrong with this bald donkey? !

Shen Du has never been a good-tempered person, let alone in this situation now, every word he speaks is like swallowing a knife, but this monk doesn't even answer a word!

He's a little on fire.

"Can't you speak?"

There was a bit of annoyance in those words. Although his voice was extremely hoarse, the pungency and irony in his tone were not concealed in the slightest.

But the monk still did not speak.

There was still no sullenness on his warm face, and he even nodded to Shen Du.

Shen Du was immediately stunned.

He didn't expect the other party to nod.

This…

is a mute

There was a bit of absurd feeling in my heart, and then I felt troubled: the other party was dumb, which meant that the information he could learn from the other party's mouth was very limited.

Speechless for a while.

After thinking for a moment, he opened his mouth again.

Although there was no guilt in his heart, he still expressed his hypocritical apology before the questioning.

"Sorry, I don't know."

The monk looked at him with a little strangeness.

Shen Du felt that this gaze made him a little uncomfortable.

But he didn't have the ability to decipher too many things from a stranger's gaze, so he just forcibly suppressed the irritability that turned up, and changed the way of asking.

"Then, this is the Tianji Temple?"

This time, the monk nodded.

Shen Du felt a little weird.

He could hear the wind outside, as well as the rustling of a bamboo sea swaying in the wind outside. Other than that, everything was quiet.

Obviously, this is not a meditation room, but a place where the hermits in the world live.

When he saw this monk, he guessed that he was rescued by a monk from Tianji Temple, and countless thoughts immediately popped into his mind. But when he saw the monk's unusually ordinary moon-white robe, and heard his footsteps that were no different from ordinary people, these thoughts disappeared.

Except for the looks, it's all too ordinary.

Even if he belongs to the Tianji Temple, you can tell by his age that he can't be any famous monk who has been famous for a long time; he can't be a particularly important person in the Temple by his clothes and cultivation.

Therefore, after thinking about it together, Shen Du felt that it was not the Tianji Temple that saved him.

Even he thinks...

The most detached place in the martial arts, this terrifying behemoth, I'm afraid I don't know that the monk in my door saved him such a big devil.

interesting.

Shen Du's mood suddenly became inexplicably good.

He remembered the status of Tianji Temple in the martial arts, and also remembered the three-volume Buddhist collection hidden in the Thousand Buddha Hall of the Zen Temple.

It was the hard work of Wu Sheng Lou Dongwang sixteen years ago. It is said that it records what he has learned in his life, including the essence of martial arts in the world.

All the warriors in the world covet.

It's a pity that Wu Sheng killed a lot of evil in his life, and he failed to escape in the end. After being plotted by his favorite woman, he fled to the Tianji Temple.

Before dying, these three volumes of the essence of martial arts were not willing to destroy them.

So he entrusted the abbot of the current Tianji Temple to Master Yuanmie, and asked him to seal up these three volumes of martial arts essences, preferably never to appear in the world.

Unless one day, his descendants are willing to come and get it.

Since then, the world has called it the "Three Volumes of Buddha Treasures".

It is only because the descendants of Wu Sheng have never appeared in the rivers and lakes for 16 years. These three volumes of martial arts essence have been stored in the Thousand Buddhas Hall, and they have never appeared in the world, as if they are guarded by the thousand Buddhas.

Hence the name "Buddha".

Over the years, it is not that there are no unscrupulous people and Wu Chi who have learned martial arts and become fans to steal.

But none of them were successful.

Especially in the past two years, Tianji Chanyuan has replaced the disciple of the new generation with the name of "Shanzai" to guard. Legend has it that no matter what the martial arts skills are, they go in while standing and come out on their knees.

No one was injured.

But after returning to the rivers and lakes, once these people were asked about the situation at that time, most of them kept it a secret. Only a few of them would sigh with a complicated expression when they were asked so hard—

Astonished.

Tianji Zenyuan, Hui monk is good.

This is the only person among the famous people in the world who makes Shen Du curious, and he has not had any intersection, and has never had the opportunity to meet.

Thinking of this, his eyes flickered slightly.

As soon as he thought about it, he was about to ask the dumb monk in front of him a few more words. Unexpectedly, at this time, the monk had already withdrawn the hand that tapped the pulse for him. After thinking for a while, he stood up and brought the bowl of white porridge that was warm on the stove.

This time, Shen Du's face turned green.

The monk sat back, lowered his eyebrows and closed his eyes, filled a little with a wooden spoon, and carefully blew a little to cool it before bringing it to his lips.

He didn't move for a long time.

Staring at the wooden spoon, there is some fire, as if I can't wait to stare out two holes!

Not drinking water right now.

With only one hand, he can move the tea cup, but he can never complete the two actions of serving a bowl and serving porridge at the same time.

Really "a fierce tiger fell in Pingyang and was bullied by sick dogs; Shen Du was trapped in a shoal and was fed porridge by a bald donkey"!

Shen Du laughed.

After being stiff for a long time, he finally bowed his head to reality, opened his mouth with a wooden spoon, caught the porridge fed by the monk, and swallowed it.

A little hot, but just right.

The monk took his hand back and filled another spoonful of porridge.

In such an instant, Shen Du suddenly noticed his flexed fingers. The roots were slender and as clear as bamboo, like Buddha palms carved from jade enshrined in temples. It's just a little dark green smudge on the fingers and between the nails.

It was the herbal juice that I accidentally got on when I was pounding the medicine.

For no reason, he felt that such clean and beautiful hands should not be stained with any dust in this world.

Hence some regrets.

But his eyes lifted and fell on the calm face of the monk in front of him, and the thought in Shen Du's mind came out so clearly—

What is even more regrettable is the monk himself.

Such a good-looking monk, why is he a dumb one