I started out as a criminal, and the police relied on me to solve countless cases.

Chapter 208 Sinful
The old monk died. When someone passed by his meditation room and smelled a foul odor, he realized that he had been dead for many days.

The old monk seemed to have been forgotten by time.

He spent the rest of his life in daily vegetarianism, chanting Buddhist scriptures, and ringing morning and evening bells. It seemed that only the two daggers made of snowflakes and broken silver remembered him, and they often whistled in rainy nights.

The little monk passing by said with solemn assurance.

I have seen many figures in an empty house, next to a dagger.

The old monk was a kind person who didn't talk much and always smiled when he saw people, but people were still afraid of him. He had completely white hair and didn't take care of it. He wore an iron ring and always wore a string of khaki Buddhist beads.

When meditating, he was a skinny old man curled up into a ball, but when he stood up, he was actually 1.9 meters tall. There were many stories about this monk in the temple, but later the people who told the stories died, and even fewer people knew his stories.

It is said that when the old monk was young, he was a rogue, a soldier, a soldier king, a hero respected by everyone, an official, and a jailer. He was the leader of prisoners, and after he was released from prison, he did big business. Later, he committed some earth-shaking evil deeds.

How can there be such a person?

The young novice monk stood in the meditation room, looking at his master who was sitting on the cushion with a dull look. Swarms of flies were crawling and dancing on his skinny face, and occasionally a maggot would crawl out of his robe.

The monk reached out and took the maggot away.
I found a yellowed notebook in front of the cushion, with a line of small words neatly written on the cover: Apprentice, please give it to someone for me.

The novice monk's eyes were filled with tears.

This is his master, who is also the oldest monk in the temple for more than 30 years.

Ever since I was sent to this temple by my parents, I have been brought up by the master. Although he is a taciturn master and is particularly strict when teaching kung fu, he is still his relative after all.

A week ago, the master told him to meditate quietly, prepare dry food and water, and told him not to get close.

I didn't expect that he passed away.

The master has no name nor Buddhist title, and everyone who knows him calls him Master Toudao.

He knows nothing about preaching, but his skills in martial arts are well-known.

He was the one who founded the martial arts school at the foot of the mountain. Year after year, he had sent off countless students with great martial arts skills.

Some of these students work as bodyguards, armed police officers, or join the army. Some become rich and powerful in society, while others become gang members and commit crimes.

The master does not like disciples to show their respect to him, and he will not accept any gifts of money or gifts. He only likes disciples who are police officers or soldiers to come to the temple, donate some money to the temple, and chat with him about old cases, influential figures in the police force, or new weapons in the army.

He loved to listen to these, and every time when he heard something interesting, his calm eyes would sparkle with brilliance.

"Society is better now. Much better."

This is what the master often says, and the novice monk can hear that he is really happy when he says these words.

But all this is over.

The novice monk informed the monks to carry away the master's body, and then he tidied up everything himself and cleaned the meditation room.

Only then did he sit back on the cushion and read the notebook left by his master facing the setting sun.

When you open the title page, what comes into view is a piece of vigorous running script.

I have committed many sins and have not been able to gain enlightenment even after living for more than seventy years. Therefore, I will record my evil deeds and hope that my disciple will hand them over to people who are wise and knowledgeable so that they can judge for themselves.

The novice monk flipped through the pages, his expression becoming more and more solemn.

The master's handwriting was still as powerful, profound, and righteous as ever, but the stories recorded in the notebook were so horrifying that it was difficult to judge right from wrong, good from evil.

When he reached the end of the page, the novice monk finally saw a name.

He frowned and thought for a moment, as if he had no impression of it, but it seemed like he had heard of it somewhere.

I closed my notebook, took out my phone, typed in the name, and read the detailed information about this person for a while.

The novice monk then suddenly realized that the people who were enlightened and knowledgeable that his master had talked about really existed.

He sighed and booked a ticket to Xiguan.

Jiang Hanwen is very satisfied with Fatty Wang's work.

The whole group got on the train at the West Kowloon High Speed ​​Rail Station and arrived in Shenzhen in 18 minutes, and then returned to Xiguan. It was very convenient.

It’s not that he is reluctant to spend the money on the plane ticket.

It was his first time to take a train from Hong Kong to the mainland. Looking at the bustling crowds at West Kowloon Station, they were all Hong Kong citizens going to Shenzhen for fun.

Only then did Jiang Hanwen feel that this piece of land that had been wandering outside for so many years would one day be completely whole again.

This is not just a return to land and administrative divisions.

What’s more important is the human heart.

In the past, people would have to swim holding a piece of wood to cover the eighteen-minute journey.

Now it is more convenient than buses in many cities.

This journey was unusually relaxing.

The Lan Kwai Fong case was solved very satisfactorily. Not only was the murderer brought to justice, but a young girl was also rescued.

The battle between the police force and the judicial system has also reached a turning point of victory.

Although the crew's filming work was intense and busy, the final product was excellent. With the success of "The Third Brigade" as a precedent, this micro-film had already been offered by a platform before it was even finished.

Sponsoring businesses are also coming in an endless stream, and their level and strength are not comparable to those small manufacturers that used to sell kitchen knives, meat grinders and dog cages, but Jiang Hanwen still left room for his old customers.

Kitchen knives and other items are still sold, but Boss Liu's factory has seen a huge increase in sales thanks to the rise in popularity of Jiang Hanwen. The size of the factory has also increased several times, and it is now a well-known enterprise in the local area.

Jiang Hanwen looked outside the window at Kuang Zhili and Lao Zhuang who were seeing him off, without even turning his head.

These two bastards, at a farewell dinner, Italian food would be fine, but they insisted on filling themselves with foreign liquor, saying that they didn't know when they would see each other again, playing the emotional card, and saying that XO Remy Martin could be made, and they drank half a bottle themselves, making Jiang Hanwen embarrassed.

After drinking two bottles of foreign liquor, he swam directly under the table and vomited continuously. He didn't know how he got back.

"Drip drip"

The message came, but Jiang Hanwen didn't click to read it. It was from Lao Zhuang, so he must have been complaining.

He left without even saying goodbye, and maybe even invited the crew to have a drink.

"You two are busy with official duties, so there's no need to see me off. We'll see each other again someday!"

Jiang Hanwen lay on the chair with a smile on his face.

First class is so comfortable. This trip is perfect both for business and personal reasons.

What's more, a life was saved. Considering so many cases, there was not a single survivor.

"Saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda. This director's luck is about to change."

Jiang Hanwen didn't know why he had such a warm feeling of happiness.

Yes, solving a wrongful case is to clear the name of the deceased, but in the final analysis, the deceased is still the deceased.

Although this sounds immoral, Jiang Hanwen has dealt with files of countless deceased persons over the years.

Carrying the stories of so many wronged souls, he is filled with the aura of death.

There is never any sunlight, but in Mary Hospital, the sunlight shines through the white and transparent gauze window onto the girl's face.

Jiang Hanwen felt more than ever how happy it was to keep a person alive, which was something that could not be measured by any money or material things.

"Two more cups of coffee, please."

Jiang Hanwen had just greeted the flight attendant and looked down at the empty cup in his hand when he suddenly felt the urge to urinate.

So he got up and went to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, the toilets in three consecutive carriages were occupied. Jiang Hanwen had no choice but to walk to the next carriage with his hands in his pockets.

It can be just past the connection between the carriages.

I saw the bathroom door not far away opened, and a girl wearing JK clothes, with a pale face and weirdly twisted limbs walked out.

Jiang Hanwen frowned and subconsciously glanced at the Chinese advertisement in the car.

"This isn't Hanwen. What's going on? Filming Train to Busan isn't enough, so you want to film Journey to Shenzhen?"

(End of this chapter)