Done! Your Majesty is going to prostitute me for free!

Chapter 86

"What you are doing is a blasphemy against the sacred!" The eminent monk's eyes widened angrily, and his originally deep and calm eyes suddenly burned with blazing fire, and a thunderous sound exploded in the empty and silent temple, its volume was so loud , enough to make the beams tremble and the rubble fly. The pilgrim did not expect such a violent reaction from the eminent monk. He was caught off guard by the slap and was stunned with his face covered. The painful and twisted expression on his face was like a tragic picture.

When he recovered from the shock, he saw through his fingers the eminent monk's eyes, which were as red as fire due to anger, and heard the roaring Sanskrit sounds mixed in between the angry gasps, as if he could feel the unsuppressed indignation. A torrent of emotions intertwined with compassion. Suddenly, a chill hit his heart, like a north wind penetrating a winter night, making him shiver with coldness.

Immediately afterwards, a heartbreaking wail spewed out of his mouth: "The monk is beating people! The eminent monk is possessed by a demon!" As soon as these words came out, like a boulder thrown into the lake, the ripples spread quickly. Come, the crowd exploded instantly, and all kinds of comments and exclamations came and went, like a magnificent symphony, breaking the silence and peace that the temple should have had.

The people who had already formed a long queue around them saw this scene, and the expectations that were as heavy as the night before dawn in their hearts instantly turned into bubbles drifting in the wind. Not only was the long-awaited consecration ceremony impossible to talk about, but even the reward he deserved was like a mirage under the gravel, disappearing at the touch of a finger, leaving nothing but anger rolling in his chest like a blazing sea of ​​fire.

Their eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. They looked at each other with shock and indignation written on their faces. Waves of uproar broke out from the crowd like the tide lapping against the shore. In this solemn and oppressive atmosphere, a roar suddenly sounded, like a thunderbolt from the blue, hitting people's hearts: "The bald donkey actually beats someone! This is a fake master who goes back on his word, deceives the world and steals his reputation, beat him bloody!" This! The angry shout was like a fuse that was quickly ignited in a powder keg, instantly detonating the crowd that was originally silent as sculptures around them. Their emotions boiled instantly, like boiling water in a pot, spewing out uncontrollably.

The ensuing shouts and curses converged into a turbulent sound. One of the men, with a red face and bulging veins, pointed angrily at the monk in the center, spitting, and his voice seemed particularly harsh in the din: "I had a hunch that this bald donkey who was reciting non-Buddhist scriptures must be a fake practitioner, a liar selling dog meat with a sheep's head!"

At that moment of rapid change, the panic on the faces of the monks surged like a tide. Their eyes reflected the suddenly changing sky. The scene was like a sharp sword piercing the tranquility of the temple, and they, Still immersed in the sudden shock, his fists and feet have not yet awakened from the helpless state, and are still stiff and dull. At this moment, Master Wu, who was in the crowd, was like a lone boat, trembling in the strong wind and waves. Facing this storm without warning, his expression was full of confusion and helplessness, as if he was overwhelmed by the vast world. Abandoned in the wilderness, left alone.

Suddenly, accompanied by an angry roar and a breath of humiliation, a mouthful of resentful spit flew straight towards Master Wufeng's face. However, what was shocking was that not only did this filthy power fail to penetrate him The deeper abyss of despair seemed to wash away his soul like a clear spring. At that moment, he closed his eyes tightly, as if he had abandoned the worldly distractions, and raised his head slightly to a forty-five-degree angle, just like an upright Zen staff, impartial and letting the wind and rain wash over him. He clasped his hands together, his fingertips caressing the traces carved by the years, and a solemn and peaceful Buddha's name slowly flowed from his mouth: "Amitabha, if you donors want to use me to practice boxing or vent their anger, I will accept it silently. It's up to you." In this low but powerful chanting, Master Wu's figure became increasingly tough and detached, as if he had merged into the core of the storm. No matter how turbulent the outside world was, his heart had returned to tranquility. of lakes.

At this moment, an ordinary citizen in the crowd seemed to be driven by an angry force, and his fist was swung out like a violent storm, which was bound to cut an angry trace in the air. However, when his eyes touched the otherworldly and calm face of Master Wu Feng, this power seemed to have hit an invisible barrier and stagnated in mid-air. The punch had not yet arrived but its power had weakened. .

The eyes of the people were deeply embedded in the solemn and holy face of Master Wu Fang. That face was like a Buddha statue passing through the fireworks of the world, showing boundless compassion and wisdom in its calmness. A heartfelt feeling of admiration instantly rose up deep in his heart. This emotion surged like a flood breaking a bank. He couldn't help but turn around and face the surrounding villagers, and let out a cry from the depths of his soul. : "Fellow fellows, this man standing in front of us is the real eminent monk and a virtuous man who we should pay homage to! We must not do any harm to him. It is others who deserve to be punished. ah!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the man's emotion instantly changed from impulse to awe. He carefully stretched out his sleeves, as if holding a rare treasure in his hands, and gently brushed away the bits of saliva stained on Master Wu Feng's cheeks. At the same time, guilt and regret intertwined into a complex picture on his weathered face. picture scroll. He bowed his head and apologized deeply to Master Wufang: "Master, I was reckless and acted impulsively. Please be merciful and forgive me, an ignorant person like me."

Faced with such a situation, although the inner lake of the enlightenment master was not completely still like a mirror, it was stirred up by the various scenes of human beings and made tiny ripples. Despite this, he still closed his eyes tightly, as if to isolate the whole world. Only the melodious sound of the Buddhist scriptures recited in his mouth rose and fell. That was his only way to respond at the moment. He used silence to fight against the noise, and used the sound of devout chanting as his own voice. The most profound and silent answer to all the blame and trouble in the world. In this tranquility immersed in Buddhism, his figure becomes more solemn and sacred, making people feel respect and admiration.

In that White Horse Temple, a sudden storm tore through the past tranquility and shattered the solemnity and solemnity. Abbot Wujue, this eminent monk who has experienced many vicissitudes of life and whose eyes are as deep as the stars in the night sky, is witnessing this chaos unfolding in front of his eyes. His face was so heavy that it seemed to be able to crush all glitz, and it was as solemn as cast iron. The emotions in his heart were magnificent, surging like the tide, lapping at the bank of his soul.

He shouted in a majestic and urgent tone, and his words were like thunder, instantly penetrating the noise and chaos around him, and reaching people's hearts: "Quick! Go and report to the official! A fatal incident has already occurred in the White Horse Temple. Case!" Every word of these words was like a brass hammer hitting a big bell, deafening and shocking.

When the little monk heard the bad news, his expression changed instantly. He was as frightened as a hare meeting a falcon, but also had a hint of relief, as if he was a bird that had escaped from a cage that had been closed for a long time, even though its wings were not yet full. But he fluttered his wings and rushed into the distance desperately, his figure stumbling in panic.

At the same time, the angry people were like fallen leaves carried by a strong wind, sweeping in overwhelmingly. They swarmed up, waved their fists and sticks at the monks who usually chanted sutras and worshiped Buddha, and violently committed violence. At this moment, the Buddhist pure land that was supposed to be otherworldly and pure, turned into a human hell in an instant, and it was a mess. The monks fell to the ground one after another, and the wailing sounds were heard one after another. The tragic scene was unbearable to watch. The ancient Qingdeng Buddha was now stained with blood and devastated.

However, in this chaotic picture that seems to be the end of the world, only the existence of Master Wu is like an indestructible rock. With his otherworldly demeanor, he sits as stable as Mount Tai outside the crowd, forming a place that is completely different from the world. of pure place. His figure is quiet and solemn, in sharp contrast to the noise and chaos around him. The scriptures he recited were like bells and giants reverberating in the open air. His calm and penetrating voice was like a ray of breeze, going straight into people's hearts. It instantly calmed down the turmoil in the hearts of the angry people, making them unconsciously Shocked by this, they all stopped and even involuntarily created a blank space around him, forming an invisible barrier. No one dared to easily approach this eminent monk who seemed to be able to calm the universe.

Even though the angry people had pushed many monks down, their anger did not ease at all. Instead, it intensified and they rushed into the hall roaring like a pack of hungry wolves. Their eyes were greedy and fierce, and every inch of land and every item was invisible under their wanton glances. The green smoke rising from the incense candles was mercilessly plundered before it could be dissipated; the tributes changed hands in an instant before they cooled down; the sound of the wooden fish stopped abruptly and was roughly thrown aside; together with the futons that carried the pious kneels, they were also Can escape the fate of being trampled and robbed. What's more, they have no sense of awe and brazenly reached out to scrape off the shining gold powder on the Buddha statue. They completely ignored the majesty of the gods and just wanted to satisfy their bottomless greed, causing the originally solemn and sacred hall to become like this. It became a battlefield of desires for a moment.

And at the edge of that incident, the crowds of people watching in circles seemed to be obscured by the mist. They could only watch the absurd drama being performed from a distance. Among these people, there are many blind and superstitious figures. In an almost worshipful way, they carefully pick up the blood drops spilled by the eminent monks on the ground, and devoutly smear them on the items they carry close to their bodies, secretly thinking in their hearts. I am secretly happy, as if this way, these ordinary objects can instantly receive divine "consecration", and from then on they will have otherworldly power.

When the eminent monks fell into coma due to excessive injuries, the ignorant and greedy people were like hungry wolves pouncing on their prey, in order to fight for the fragments that were stained with the blood of the eminent monks and regarded as "holy objects", and began a war for nothing. An irrational fight. The crowd's roars, screams, and sounds of fists and kicks intertwined together to form a chaotic and suffocating picture. At this moment, the entire scene is completely out of control, and the desires and ugliness deep in human nature are exposed.

In the center of this crazy whirlpool, Abbot Wujue stood majestically, his cassock already torn to pieces in the chaos, like a weathered flag, flapping in the strong wind. His cheeks endured insulting slaps from all directions, and each blow hurt like a knife cutting into the bone marrow. However, he remained tenacious and unyielding. Although there were traces of redness and swelling on his face, he always maintained a compassionate and compassionate calm. expression.

Facing the devastated world in front of him, a torrent of tears gathered in Abbot Wujue's eyes. They fell silently and hit the broken land, but they failed to cause any ripples. He chose to remain silent. This deep silence did not come from despair or powerlessness, but in a deeper and more determined attitude, silently carrying all the pain and chaos, as if he was using his body as a mirror. , reflects the most complex and contradictory nature of human nature, thereby awakening the world's reflection on conscience and morality.

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It had been a long time since Lin Xiaofeng had encountered such an incident. After receiving the urgent news from the young novice monk who was anxious and panting, he led a team of iron-clad officers and soldiers, who walked with steady and powerful steps. , not only showing a majestic and inviolable momentum, but also maintaining an inner calmness and calmness. This group of people slowly entered the territory of the White Horse Temple, their steps full of tenacity and determination accumulated over the years.

Before arriving at the temple gate, wherever Lin Xiaofeng looked, he could not help but be speechless, and his heart was filled with turmoil. The White Horse Temple in front of us is no longer as clean and solemn as it used to be. Instead, it looks like the face of an old man who has been weathered by weather. The walls are peeling off in various spots. Every crack is like a silent poem quietly carved by the fingers of time, silently telling a piece of forgotten history. story. The bluestone bricks laid on the ground have been eroded by wind and rain and are broken and incomplete, just like the fragments of history randomly scattered in the gaps of time, indicating the glory of the past and the decline of today.

The door of the main hall suddenly opened, and the original golden and solemn Buddha statue could not escape its bad luck. The whole body was covered with scratches from swords and traces of the pomp and glory of the world. Dots and marks were densely covered, as if whispering the endless suffering and suffering in the world. desolate.

Faced with such a situation, Lin Xiaofeng was shocked beyond expectation. At first glance, this absurd scene seemed like a tragedy caused by excessive playfulness, but it was unimaginable that the White Horse Temple, which carried the people's pious beliefs, would suffer such a heavy blow. He looked around and saw a dozen monks lying in various shapes on the cold floor tiles, some curled up, some stretched out, and each had their own marks of pain. Several of them can be identified from the tattered monk robes they wear and their natural noble temperament. They should be respected Zen sects. At this moment, these eminent monks who once led believers to be good are soaked in a pool of blood, their eyes are closed tightly, their faces are ashen and lifeless, as if the images in the scroll have instantly lost the color and temperature of life, leaving only a piece of blood. Desolation and sadness pervaded this once sacred and inviolable temple.

However, in this devastated and chaotic world, Master Wu was the only one sitting firmly outside the door, his face was like a pool of autumn water, calm and calm, as if all the turmoil around him had nothing to do with it, as if he was outside the world. Lin Xiaofeng's heart felt like oil cooking on fire at this moment. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed among the broken rubble. He quickly rushed to the side of the eminent monks who were still struggling in the red blood to see if they were still breathing, and felt a little comfort in his heart. He carefully examined the injuries of each injured person one by one. On their palms covered with traces of vicissitudes of life, the wounds deep into the bones were shocking and shocking, like marks carved by evil spirits from hell; while the rest of their bodies were , is covered with bruises, especially the arms, which are like a picture of intertwined blue and purple. Densely packed finger marks are imprinted on the skin, deep and shallow, as if they were left during some ancient and mysterious ritual. Mark of cruelty.

When Lin Xiaofeng saw this scene, a cold chill suddenly passed through his heart. The legend of the vampire monster that had been circulating for a long time gradually became clear in his mind at this moment. The scene in front of them was not just a simple violent conflict, but a carefully planned and deliberate act of blood-squeezing, a method that was extremely cruel and full of weirdness. His eyes instantly condensed perseverance and determination, like a sharp sword unsheathed in the dark night. This sudden crisis in the White Horse Temple has dragged him into a vortex of life and death, and a battle between good and evil. In this battlefield without gunpowder, Lin Xiaofeng knew that he had no way out. He could only fight against the darkness with courage and wisdom, and protect the goodness and light hidden deep in his heart.

Abbot Wujue, this old monk who stood leaning on a pillar in the White Horse Temple and looked like a dying man, when the news of the official arrival was like a thunderous explosion, his body, which had seemed to have been drained of the last trace of vitality by the years, unexpectedly became like a It suddenly glows with indescribable vitality like a divine help. He was like a dead tree blooming in spring, changing his previous dejected attitude. In an instant, his figure was as fast as a rabbit, and he rushed towards the place where Lin Xiaofeng was. Those weather-beaten, wrinkled hands tightly hugged Lin Xiaofeng's strong legs and wrists, as if holding a life-saving straw. Tears welled up in springs, and hoarse and sad cries echoed in the empty and lonely temple. Kailai: "Sir, I am deeply wronged! I, the Baima Temple, have never met you and have nothing to do with you. Why do we have to suffer such unreasonable disasters? How unfair is the sky!"

Facing this scene, a flash of astonishment flashed in Lin Xiaofeng's eyes, but he quickly stabilized his figure without showing any trace of panic. He stretched out his strong and steady arms to help Abbot Wujue, who was crying bitterly, from the ground. At this moment, Lin Xiaofeng's face was as cold as a cast-iron stone sculpture. The sternness and determination in his brows and eyes were in sharp contrast to the words in his mouth. Every word was ringing and contained undoubted power: "Master, there is no need to be overly alarmed. Please be patient first." Calm down your mind. What kind of great injustice happened that made you so sad and angry that you burst into tears?" Abbot Wujue stood up with difficulty with the help of the monks, but his burly body seemed to be weak at this moment. So weak, as if carrying endless sorrow and sorrow. This tragedy is like that of a little woman who has been tortured by life. She is full of grievances and cannot talk about it. She can only let the tears flow down her furrowed cheeks. Every drop seems to carry the vicissitudes and helplessness accumulated by the years.

"Isn't it recorded on the bulletin board that the White Horse Temple consecrated Buddhist temples to believers for free and gave beads to them? Isn't it out of your mercy and grace?" There was a deep questioning in his voice, and every word trembled in the air. Like a candle swayed by the cold wind, it flickers on and off, but remains tenacious. "Now, this kind act, which was originally intended to save all sentient beings, has become the main culprit for the temple's troubles. This reversal of cause and effect really makes me think about it and be puzzled. My heart is like thousands of knives cutting it, and the pain is uncontrollable."

Lin Xiaofeng stood aside, staring deeply at Abbot Wujue's face that was distorted by pain. He saw that the eyes that were once full of wisdom and peace were now filled with emotional waves of innocence and confusion, just like a Ye is a helpless boat in the storm, unable to struggle and drifting with the tide in the changing world and the warmth and warmth of human relationships.

Looking at the bulletin board again, the ink is still fresh, as if it still retains the warmth of the hand of the writer. Those dark words are like fresh life, whispering in silence, silently confiding the deep sorrow caused by this sudden change. Deep pain and endless suffering. The words on the bulletin board are like witnesses of time, recording the historical moments of Baima Temple from prosperity to loneliness, from compassion to misunderstanding, and also reflecting the complexity and change of human nature and the ruthless tricks of fate.

Lin Xiaofeng's face at this moment was like a weathered stone tablet, heavily engraved with solemnity and determination. There seemed to be a thunderous force hidden deep in his eyes, ready to strike. His words were like a hammer hitting an anvil, every word ringing loudly: "This matter is definitely not my fault! Please listen to me in detail. Just two days ago, an unknown person stepped into the Yamen in person. At the threshold, he was full of supplications and asked the official to issue an announcement, claiming that a sum of silver was donated from the public, with the intention of doing good deeds and benefiting the people. At that time, the official believed that this was a manifestation of the compassion of the folk temple, so he agreed to the announcement. However, what is the past relationship between Lin Xiaofeng and Guisi Baima Temple? The current turmoil must be carefully planned by a scheming villain hiding in the dark, trying to frame Guisi Temple and make it suffer unjust injustice. "

"Living in the market, things are unpredictable and people are unpredictable." Lin Xiaofeng continued to speak, revealing extremely firm determination in his words. Every word he said was like a wake-up call, deafening and enlightening. "I never expected that this bustling city would Such an insidious and vicious plot could suddenly arise in the public, but please relax, Master. Lin will do his best to peel back the layers of fog, clear the name of Baima Temple, and let the world know that he was an innocent victim. , restore its due dignity and justice!”

When Abbot Wujue heard Lin Xiaofeng's words, the hands that were tightly clasped around Lin Xiaofeng's thighs were like the last few stubbornly struggling dead leaves in autumn, slowly and feebly slipping in the irresistible wind of fate. Down until it falls to the dust. This action is not completed in an instant, but carries a kind of heaviness and sadness that has accumulated over time, as if through this slow process, the collapse of an old man's inner world has been concretely transformed into a realistic scene.

The departure of those hands was like a balloon carrying many expectations and hopes being stabbed sharply, instantly losing all its vitality and vitality. Following this symbolic scene, Abbot Wujue's body began to sway slightly, like a weather-beaten ancient tower trembling in the strong wind. Finally, unable to support the weight of its dignity, it leaned feebly toward the ground and collapsed. At this moment, he was surrounded by an indescribable aura of sadness, and his eyes were filled with boundless loss and doubt.

His heart was like a turbulent river with turbulent waves. He chewed on what Lin Xiaofeng said over and over again. Every word was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, causing ripples. Gradually, the judgment deep in his heart became as clear as a mirror: the recent turmoil in the White Horse Temple is indeed not directly related to the government. The identity of the enemy hiding in the dark corner is still mysterious, but its existence is... Like a cold sharp needle, it pokes straight into the heart and makes people shudder.

At this moment, a vivid three-dimensional picture seemed to appear on Abbot Wujue's face, which was covered with traces of time but was deep and calm. In the scroll, the image of a young man in rich clothes and excellent temperament pops up before his eyes. His eyes are unfathomable, like an ancient well. Although the surface is quiet and calm, there is an unnoticeable ruthless light flashing across it in an instant. , like a sharp dagger hidden in the night, flickering quietly, indicating some kind of long-planned conspiracy.

"This young man must be the black hand behind the whirlpool of this disaster!" Abbot Wujue concluded in his heart. Although his voice did not leave his lips, his tone was firm and unquestionable. He pictured this in his mind - the young man used a generous and inexplicable gift as bait to step by step lead the eminent monk into an invisible trap set in the White Horse Temple; and with clever tactics and the authority of the government, he released an announcement , stir up trouble, and use other people's swords to kill people without blood. As a result, today's chaotic and complicated situation cannot end. Obviously, this is a blatant provocation to the eminent monk, and it is even possible that the two sides have already developed an incomprehensible hatred. Now that the innocent White Horse Temple is implicated in this, there is no other way but to work step by step to uncover the truth hidden behind the fog and restore the temple's reputation.

When Abbot Wujue heard this, in his eyes as deep as ancient wells, the waves that were originally as quiet as a deep pool were stirred up, and circles of fine ripples spread, as if a stone weighing a thousand pounds was suddenly pressed on his heart, making it His old and tough body couldn't help but tremble slightly. He clasped his hands together devoutly and raised them to his chest. Crystal tears fell from the ravines carved by the years on his face, slowly rolling down his weather-beaten cheeks engraved with the mark of wisdom, tapping the ancient blue bricks. ground. He was filled with emotion, and his words were full of compassion and the endless helplessness of practitioners when faced with the vicissitudes of life and difficulties. He choked and said: "I am here, in the name of all the monks at the White Horse Temple, to express our gratitude to you. The deepest gratitude. Thank you for adhering to the principle of impartiality and selflessness in this chaotic and frightening world, like a bright light shining in the darkness, and being able to see clearly even at the end of the day."

After hearing this, Lin Xiaofeng's face remained calm, like a solid rock that could not be shaken no matter how the wind and rain outside changed. Although his words in response were short and powerful, they were as resounding as the impact of gold and stone. Every word carried a weight that could not be ignored: "Master, there is no need to be too humble. As a parent and official of the people, I shoulder the important responsibility of guarding peace and upholding justice." , it is our duty to find out the truth and bring justice to the world. I hope that Master can calm down this ups and downs for the time being, and carefully sort out the doubts in front of us with a calm heart. Let us work together to clear the fog and explore the hidden truth. In the depths of darkness, there is a conspiracy to subvert the light.”

Lin Xiaofeng's eyes moved like a cunning stream of light quietly sliding across the silent, mirror-like lake. The light changed rapidly, and finally locked on a monk named Huowen Fengshi who was chanting sutras with his eyes closed. His eyes were full of wit and unruliness, just like the cunning water monster lurking under the lake, with unknown thoughts surging beneath the quiet water. A meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. This smile seemed to carry the vicissitudes of time and the banter of the world. His voice was low and long, like the sigh slowly pushed out by an old bellows: "Oh, Rong Shenghuang, we But it’s been a long time coming!” These words seem to contain endless fragments of stories and unspeakable memories of the past that have settled in the depths of time.

When Master Wufeng heard this sound, it was as if he suddenly heard thunder from ancient times while in ethereal meditation, instantly breaking his inner peace. He opened his eyes suddenly, and at that moment, the two eyes were like torches piercing the darkness, pointed sharply and firmly towards Lin Xiaofeng's familiar yet chilling smile. He let out a silent sigh deep in his heart, which was a kind of helplessness and sadness at the reincarnation of fate and the reappearance of the devil: "The devil has finally come again."

"Master, I have a very important matter, and I hope to discuss it in detail in your quiet place far away from the hustle and bustle." Before he finished speaking, Lin Xiaofeng took a steady step, and every step was like stepping on the piano of time. On the strings, a solemn and melodious melody was played. He slowly walked into the hall, his figure swaying in the world of light and shadow, like a flowing ink painting. His back is both calm and indifferent, and filled with majestic aura, as if every movement is telling an unknown story, making people want to explore the deep secrets behind it.

After hearing this, Master Wufang did not dare to show any slightness, as if every moment he stayed might miss a fateful event. He stood up from the Zen mat quickly, with a nervous yet solemn rhythm in his steps, and followed Lin Xiaofeng closely into the center of the dilapidated but ancient and solemn hall. The two sat opposite each other under the mixture of devastation and sacred light and shadow. Every crack and mottled spot in the hall seemed to tell the vicissitudes of time and the weight of history.

Master Wu Feng's face was filled with a humble and respectful smile. The smile lines were like stone statues carved over many years, deep and shallow, twisting and turning, trying to cover up the turmoil in his heart with this gentle and jade-like smile. There was a sense of indifference in his words, but it was difficult to conceal his deep excitement: "Mr. Lin, it's been a long time. I wonder if you are safe and healthy and everything is going well?"

Faced with Master Wufeng's greetings, Lin Xiaofeng did not respond directly, but joked in a worldly and slightly sarcastic tone: "Hey, Master Rong Shenghuang, it seems that you really want to be here in Qingdeng Ancient." Have you found a pure spiritual land under the Buddha? Could it be that in this Buddhist place that seems to be poor but actually contains endless wisdom, you have made a lot of money and become rich?" As soon as he finished speaking, his cunning eyes appeared. He scanned the surroundings quickly and cunningly like a fox, seemingly searching for some unknown secret clue in every dusty corner.

Lin Xiaofeng moved calmly and slowly, looking around the entire hall. Everywhere he looked was meticulous, like a wise man who has insight into the changes in the world, discerning all the secrets hidden in the dust. When his eyes returned to Master Wu Feng across from him again, he saw that the former Rong Shenghuang was trying hard to squeeze out a flattering smile. The smile contained both the aftertaste of the past and relief from the current situation. He replied: "It's just passable. Compared with the hustle and bustle of the past, today's life has a little more rare peace, and life is much more comfortable."

The corners of Lin Xiaofeng's mouth raised slightly, and the arc was like an invisible sword, carrying a mockery that was mixed with cynicism and extremely confident. His steps were firm and powerful, and he walked straight towards the confession book in front of the Buddha statue that was full of traces of time and mottled, as if every step was challenging the sacred atmosphere that had been silent in the temple for thousands of years. He sat down on the confession table with a big sting. This move was undoubtedly a kind of contempt for its solemnity and a provocation to the faith. It was like throwing a shocking stone in the quiet temple.

He spoke again, his tone as calm as if there were no waves in the lake, but lurking as sharp as a knife edge: "You have the courage to disguise yourself as a monk and cheat on my territory in North Langfang. Who is it that ordered you? Come to this remote place?" Every word is like a carefully polished stone, striking the ground and hitting the heart directly.

Faced with such a question, Rong Shenghuang's huge head shook rapidly. His movement was like an old tree in the wilderness, swaying in the strong wind. He tried his best to resist but could not resist the panic and panic that swept from deep in his heart. Tide of confusion. "To be honest, I really didn't know anything." His words were filled with a strong sense of confusion and powerlessness, like a long and profound mystery that was torn apart by an invisible force and displayed in front of everyone. His eyes are erratic, reflecting the painful picture of a soul struggling between truth and lies. Every subtle emotional fluctuation is captured delicately and vividly by a poet's brushwork.

After hearing this, Lin Xiaofeng's usually calm face seemed to be enveloped in a gloomy and desolate emotion. He slowly raised his head and let out a long and deep sigh toward the endless sky. This sigh is like a loud bell ringing suddenly in the loneliness. Its sound is endless, deafening and deafening, reaching the softest part of the human heart, making people moved when they hear it. His eyes were as firm as a knife at this moment, locked tightly on Rong Shenghuang's weathered face, as if he wanted to carve the most profound teachings of life into the other person's soul.

"Old Rong, a person's life is full of trials and tribulations, but at its root, the word 'honesty' is the most important. It is the foundation for us to walk in the world and conduct ourselves in the world. We must not deceive ourselves because of temporary selfish desires. Mistake, you mislead yourself and others." Lin Xiaofeng's voice was low and powerful, and his words contained a unique understanding of the profound philosophy of life accumulated over the years, as well as his determination to stick to moral ethics.

He then spoke eloquently, revealing great pride and responsibility in his words: "You may not know it yet, but your wife and children are now with me. I take care of them like my own flesh and blood, and I have devoted countless efforts and care. Every morning At nine o'clock, those children were already sitting in front of the chessboard, exploring wisdom in the world of black and white; at that time, the sun began to shine, and the music of the piano sounded, and they were cleansing their souls in the ocean of music; at this time, the sun was blazing in the sky, and the horse's hooves broke through the bluestone road , they sweated on the horse farm and learned the skills of controlling life; until late at night, when the lights were dim, they were still concentrating on carving, polishing the delicate texture of life with patience and perseverance. I regard all this as an official. I personally worked hard and supervised them strictly, and I spent my whole life to train them. I was responsible for all the tuition fees and expenses, and I did not let them suffer any injustice. "

He once again mentioned the portraits of wives and concubines in Rong Shenghuang's mansion. The description was like a vivid picture slowly unfolding in the spring breeze: "Your wives and concubines are like flowers moistened by spring rain in my mansion. They are nourished, plump and round, their skin is delicate and lustrous, their bodies are graceful and luxurious, and they weigh more than 200 kilograms, but there is not a trace of excess, showing the style and comfort of a wealthy family. They live a leisurely and contented life, every meal and every cup of tea. All soaked in my careful care and care.”

Rong Shenghuang always thought that he had a rock-hard will that could withstand any external impact and trouble. However, at this moment, in front of Lin Xiaofeng's sincere and powerful words, his psychological defense collapsed instantly like a sandcastle hit by a flood. His knees weakened and he couldn't help but hug Lin Xiaofeng's thigh as thick as a tree trunk. His face was full of sorrow, and his hoarse voice was intertwined with deep worries and pleadings: "Master Lin! Master Lin! Maybe you don't know, The pressure of study and the burden of life that children are facing today may not be able to be carried by their immature bodies and pure hearts!”

(End of this chapter)