high-dimensional seeker

Chapter 139

"A Buddha son."

Bai Shu held the exquisite wine bottle, showing no expression on his face.

"But Wuxian, the divine monk in the Vajra Temple?"

He smiled and asked Cui Yuanzhou beside him.

There is no monk.

This is a real Buddha.

Not to mention that he has practiced to the fifth realm of Mingzang at the age of no words.

Moreover, when he passed the Shurangama Dharma Assembly, he was so superb in Buddhism that even the abbot of Jingang Temple was impressed by him. Regardless of dissuasion, he accepted Wuxian as his personal disciple.

And long before Wuxian worshiped in the Vajra Temple, his reputation was not weak at all.

He had quietly gone to Beiwei, where he debated three times with the monks at the Northern Landa Temple, the ancestral court of the Northern School, and won all three times.

But because of this, Wuxian was detained in Landa Temple for seven years, and he was not able to return to the Southern Sect until the divine foot monk took action.

When Bai Shu was in Fenyin City, he spent some time with Wu Xian.

This monk is open-minded and elegant, and when teaching Baishu, he is gentle and has no secrets.

Even he was able to worship Fengshan Temple, thanks to Wuxian's contribution in it.

Hearing what Cui Yuanzhou said about the disciples of Buddha, Bai Shu's first reaction was to be nonchalant.

"It's not Wuxian."

Unexpectedly, Cui Yuanzhou shook his head, swallowed the fat in his mouth with great effort, puffed his cheeks and said:

"Wuxian seems to be tracking down the whereabouts of Zen Master Miaoyan. He has no time to clone himself. King Kong Temple and Qingli Palace are about to swear an alliance. This time, it is another Buddhist disciple."

"Young brother is well-informed."

Bai Shu shook his head, deeply moved.

Whether it's Wu Xian tracking down the traces of Zen Master Miaoyan, or King Kong Temple and Qingli Palace.

Even Bai Shu himself, the real monk of Fengshan Temple, only recently learned about it in Yuguili.

It's only been a few days, and Cui Yuanzhou, an outsider from the Daoist sect, also knows about this matter.

"so far so good."

The little fat man scratched his chin, with a look of self-respect in his eyes.

"The Great Zen Master Miaoyan is a real human being of the Six Realms, so Wuxian is just a new life treasure, what does the King Kong Temple think?"

The corners of Cui Yuanzhou's mouth turned up, his face full of gloating:

"Could it be that he offended the Buddhist bald donkey and sent him to die on the pretext of looking for Miao Yan?"

"Buddhist stories, how can we two outsiders know?"

Bai Shu didn't want to mention it again:

"I think they have their own arrangements, so it's not something you and I can know."

He asked again:

"I don't know which Buddha's son the younger brother is talking about?"

Except for Wuxian, Bai Shu has never heard of any monk in the King Kong Temple who is worthy of the title of Buddha.

The words that came out of Cui Yuanzhou's mouth made Bai Shu extremely puzzled.

"Brother, do you know who my uncle is?"

The little fat man stopped talking suddenly, with a somewhat proud expression on his face, he avoided answering Bai Shu's doubts.

He quietly leaned forward with a mysterious look on his face.

"Which one?" Bai Shu looked up helplessly.

"The calculator of Jingshan Mountain!"

He patted his chest, "My uncle told me about these things!"

Jiejing Mountain——

Bai Shu nodded thoughtfully.

This is a holy place composed of a group of people of three religions and nine streams. There is a lot of miscellaneous knowledge in the sect, and it is all-encompassing. Among them, divination and fortune-telling are especially good.

Most of the wind media in today's world, who sell news for a living, are Jie Jingshan's offline.

Baixiaolou, Fengyin Pavilion, Jushengtang—these organizations are inextricably linked with Jiejing Mountain.

They traverse the three countries, and even have stations in small countries such as the South China Sea.

Jiejing Mountain can be regarded as the most active holy place in the world.

And Uncle Cui Yuanzhou is Jie Jingshan's fortune teller, so it's not surprising that he can learn some secrets.

"The Buddha—"

Cui Yuanzhou looked around vigilantly, and sent a message with his heart voice:

"It is another direct disciple of the abbot of King Kong Temple after Wuxian. I heard that he practiced Zen in Qingyan Cave in Guzang County. He was born in the past few days."

It's him?

Bai Shu froze when he heard the words, even the wine bottle that was about to be raised to his lips froze in mid-air.

I have heard of him myself.

The abbot's direct disciple is extremely talented.

As early as in Fenyin City, when Wu Xian persuaded himself to join Buddhism, he used him as an example.

"why?"

Atractylodes is somewhat unbelievable:

"How can a monk who has not even passed the Shurangama Dharma Assembly be worthy of the title of Buddha?"

"He doesn't need to pass the Shurangama Dharma Assembly. Senior brother, you don't know yet. After a few days, the news should come out."

The little fat man was full of solemnity, and said in a deep voice:

"Three days ago, this Buddha had a debate with the heavenly official Xie Wei, and the two were invincible.

The King Kong Temple has been hiding the truth from the people of the world for countless years, and now, they have finally shown their feet. "

Facing Bai Shu's gaze, Cui Yuanzhou slowly shook his head:

"That Buddha, like Mr. Xuanwen, is a person who respects the innate and flawless!"

……

……

……

At this moment, Guzang County, outside Qingyan Cave.

After the beginning of winter, the temperature in the north gradually dropped, and many grass leaves were covered with frost.

As for Guzang County, there have already been several heavy snowfalls.

This year's snow is different from the past, extremely thick, and huge...

On the mountain path covered with frost and snow, the white-browed old monk walked down the mountain slowly, stepping on cloth shoes, with one foot deep and the other shallow.

The snow was stepped on to make a crisp and soft sound, like a large piece of muffin being compacted.

After walking for two or three meals, I arrived at a small village at the foot of the mountain.

The old monk didn't use his supernatural powers, but just walked down the mountain normally.

His shoulders had already been covered with flying snow. Passers-by hurried past and nodded to the old monk. The old monk solemnly clasped his hands together and smiled back.

Finally, he walked a short distance and stopped outside a hut.

In the room, there was a faint voice, it was the voice of a young man.

"Please divide this medicine into three parts, decoct it before meals and take it. After two or three days, it will be fine."

The smell of the fire came from the room, and the old monk breathed lightly, and a white mist appeared in front of him.

"The benefactor is weak and weak, so he still needs to practice martial arts a little more. It's always beneficial to keep fit."

Then there was the creaking sound of the wooden door, and the young monk smiled warmly, waved his hands again and again, and hurriedly jumped out of the door.

Behind him, a sickly man with a woman and a child insisted that he take some money.

The sparks from the burning firewood exploded, and a dull red light brightened a little.

"If you don't dislike it, I will go down the mountain every day from now on to explain martial arts to the benefactor."

He stopped the sick man who insisted on sending him with a smile, and clasped his hands together:

"I just hope that the benefactor will not dislike the rough martial arts of the little monk, and he will be a good teacher."

After saying this, the young monk waved his hands as if fleeing for his life, and ran away in a hurry.

Only the family was left, thanking them on the spot.

The old monk smiled slowly, raised his hand, and lifted up the group of people who had bowed down.

With a flick of his figure, he disappeared in place.

The sharp icicles hang down long, like swords, guns, swords and halberds.

In the forest, it was extremely cold, and the vast white mist that covered people's eyes surged in patches.The bleak cold air pierced through every pore in his body, carrying a chilly air.

The young monk was as happy as an elk. He took a piece of ice and held it in his mouth, hopped and hopped, humming an out-of-tune song.

Suddenly, the singing stopped, the young monk stared wide-eyed, and took the ice cube out of his mouth in embarrassment.

"teacher."

He obediently bowed his head and saluted the white-browed old monk in front of him. .

(End of this chapter)