Starting his cultivation from marrying the Weaver Girl

Chapter 21 True Face

Chapter 21 True Face
Cold sweat slid down Lin Yao's forehead.

The head kept imitating his breathing, like a child facing the world for the first time.

If it were just because of this, Lin Yao wouldn't feel so scared.

The most important thing is that the little monk didn’t know the shape of the head.

Lin Yao wanted to get up, but the severe pain in his limbs made him fall directly to the ground.

"I can't move."

He smiled, his smile full of bitterness.

In his current state, there is nothing he can do except wait for death if he stays here.

The fog quietly spread again.

Lin Yao couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.

"Isn't this fog Yan Chixia's ghost tide?"

As he was thinking about it, his body was lifted up.

Many monks appeared from nowhere. Their heads were huge and when placed together with normal human bodies, it looked as if someone had deliberately spliced them together.

Their faces were filled with smiles, which made Lin Yao think of the faith puppets in Lanruo Temple in the outside world.

Seventeen people.

"I didn't hear or speak. I didn't see that after the three little monks achieved the Arhat stage, they also had huge heads, plus these seventeen people."

He could think of only one explanation.

The Eighteen Arhats of Buddhism.

"But why did you appear in Lanruo Temple?"

You know, in Lin Yao's impression, this place is just a place for lonely ghosts like the Black Mountain Old Ghost to practice.

To be honest, it's just a den of ghosts at best.

Not to mention Xiaoqing, even a wild Taoist priest like Yan Chixia who changed his career halfway can deal with it.

But it's just such a small place.

Are there the Eighteen Arhats of Buddhism?

It even gave birth to such filth as Lanruo Bodhisattva.

"Is someone secretly manipulating all this?"

Lin Yao's thoughts were a little confused, but he vaguely felt that he had touched some truth.

He was carried to Lanruo Temple.

This Buddhist pure land is eerily quiet at this moment.

Lin Yao looked at the human lampstands on both sides of the road.

They knelt on the ground, their bodies hunched, as if they were confessing.

"Officials, farmers, merchants, and all walks of life are here. To whom are they confessing their sins?"

Lin Yao looked up. In his impression, beyond this place was the main hall of Lanruo Temple.

"Are we going to meet the person who started this?"

The leading monk pushed open the door of the hall, and when Lin Yao saw the scene behind the door clearly, he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"How can this be?"

The main hall of Buddhism is a place of solemnity and majesty.

The golden Buddha statue lowers its eyebrows, and there is a paradise on earth under its feet.

The sounds of joy were heard everywhere, and silks and satins were scattered on the ground.

As the toasts went on, cups were passed around and glasses were exchanged.

Men and women enjoy each other's happiness.

The aroma of incense and joy from the Buddha's presence flashed before Lin Yao.

In his eyes, those living people were riding on sexy ghosts.

What he held in his arms were nothing but the dry bones of the dead.

Solemn and erotic.

Joyful and weird.

Several young monks stood up and shook Lin Yao, hanging him in front of the plaque.

When the rope was hooked around Lin Yao's neck, he looked at the four words "Main Hall" in front of him, and his pupils gradually blurred.

Joyful sounds continued to be heard in the hall.

Lin Yao's consciousness gradually sank.

The temple is constantly filled with incense, obscenity is everywhere in front of the Buddha, good and evil are intertwined, and cause and effect never stop.

His body swayed gently in the wind.

The door of the ancient temple was wide open, thick fog poured in, and the candlelight flickered.

When Lin Yao felt death, a voice rang out.

"Son."

"Sir?"

Nie Xiaoqian's voice rang in his ears, Lin Yao opened his eyes, and drew out Qingfeng almost instantly.

The sound of metal symphony rang out.

"Lin Yao!" Xiaoqing's voice was like a dragon, exploding in his ears.

Only then did Lin Yao see the scene clearly. Nie Xiaoqian was kneeling beside the bed, and the Black Mountain Old Ghost was hanging on a pillar, his body covered with scars.

There was a man who looked like a scholar next to Nie Xiaoqian.

"How did Yan Chixia die?"

Lin Yao spoke, his voice unexpectedly hoarse.

"Lin Yao."

"answer me!"

Xiaoqing frowned. This was the first time she saw Lin Yao lose his composure like this since she met him.

"What on earth did he go through last night?"

"Brother Yan's injuries had improved since arriving at Leifeng Pagoda, but suddenly one night not long ago, his condition took a turn for the worse, with a sword wound appearing on his throat."

Beside Xiaoqian, Ning Caichen spoke slowly.

There was hatred in his eyes as he looked at Xiaoqing.

"not me."

Xiaoqing didn't care about his look, but spoke to Lin Yao.

"I know."

Lin Yao returned Qingfeng to Xiaoqing.

"All go out."

As Xiaoqing waved her hand, the Black Mountain Old Ghost fell off the pillar and let out a weak cry of pain.

After the chaos, only two people were left in the room.

Lin Yao leaned on the bed, his eyes somewhat empty.

"What happened last night?"

Xiaoqing stood opposite him and placed Qingfeng on the edge of the bed.

"Last night, the bell rang early, and the filth within us erupted. I used up the last bit of my sanity to find you."

She took a deep breath, a hint of fear in her eyes.

"You were standing in front of Nie Xiaoqian's door at the time, and she wanted to send you back. What neither of us expected was that a murderous aura suddenly emanated from you, almost instantly injuring both of us. When we found you again, you were lying at the end of the first floor, covered in blood. Your breath was so weak that I thought you were dead."

Lin Yao recovered a little, and the familiar pain came from his limbs again.

Xiao Qing continued.

"I picked you up and carried you into the pool of blood, which saved your life."

As she spoke, the look in her eyes when she looked at Lin Yao had changed a lot.

"What exactly have you been through?"

Lin Yao remained silent, and the room fell into silence.

After a long time, he slowly spoke.

"Yan Chixia, I might have killed him."

When these words were spoken, Xiaoqing couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

"How could you possibly kill that wild Taoist priest?"

Yan Chixia's death had clearly happened several years ago.

Lin Yao now says that Yan Chixia died at his hands.