At the beginning of the game

Chapter 466 Collapse
Chapter 465 Collapse
Shan Yang was very angry, but the statues of the left and right Buddhas would not answer him, so he could only restrain his grief and anger, and restrain his master's body.

The ten-year-old child desperately dragged the old monk's body to the backyard, but saw his senior brother's body lying on the open space in the backyard.

Under the silvery moonlight, the air was icy cold.

Just like Shan Yang's mood now, sad.

He seemed to have forgotten to cry, forgot to cry, forgot that he was only ten years old, and there was only chaos in his mind.

In the desolate night, Shan Yang placed the bodies of his brother and master in the open space in the backyard.

Under the maple tree where he often meditates.

The breeze blows, and the bright red leaves fall from the tree trunk.

And now Shan Yang's heart is also blood red.

He, who had never seen blood before, saw such a shocking scene for the first time, his heart was in a mess, and he had already forgotten everything.

He has practiced boundless Buddhism, but in the face of this reality, he is completely vulnerable and useless.

In the front yard, Shan Yang found the bodies of the other two senior brothers. They were still in the courtyard, already cold.

I don't know how long it took before Shan Yang dragged the bodies of the two senior brothers to the backyard and placed them side by side under the maple tree.

In the sky, a fish-belly white rose.

The gray light illuminated everything, but it couldn't illuminate Shan Yang's heart.

He looked at the blue-faced corpse in front of him, at a loss.

This night, he didn't know how many scriptures he recited, how many Buddha's names he recited, and how many methods he thought of, but no matter what he did, the person who passed away has already passed away.

Shan Yang sat in front of the corpses of his master and senior brother, the original scriptures in his mind seemed to have completely disappeared, and he couldn't remember a word.

He could only silently look at the four corpses in front of him, and tears rolled down his eyes involuntarily.

An inexplicable resentment steamed from the bottom of Shan Yang's heart. He knew something was wrong in his heart, but he couldn't erase it no matter what.

Resentment arose suddenly, and soon occupied Shan Yang's whole body and heart.

At noon, Shanyang got up from the ground, went to the side room to take out farm tools, and dug a hole under the bright red maple leaves.

He swung the hoe in his hand vigorously, sweating profusely.

Every blow hits his solid belief, and every blow hits the boundless Dharma.

Somewhere, the Western Paradise he saw in his fugue seemed to be just a joke.

In a daze, he remembered what his master had said to him before.

"The detachment of the mind does not mean the detachment of the body. If you still want to continue to practice Buddhism, you should avoid it, or you must avoid it."

What should be avoided, should be avoided.

But Shan Yang at the time believed that Buddhism could solve everything, resolve all enmity, save all sentient beings, and transcend life and death.

And when all this was really put in front of him, Shan Yang realized how ridiculous the belief he had always believed in was.

A lifetime of practice, what has been exchanged?
Thinking of my own master, he became a monk since he was a child, and he can be regarded as an eminent monk. He is willing to do good deeds, travels around the world, and does good deeds.

Later, he became the abbot of this Gushan Temple, and even more promoted Buddhism, thought of kindness, and led people to be humble and amiable.

Over the years, my master has saved countless people and helped many poor people who have no food to eat.

In the end, what is all this?
Such an eminent monk, with his head in a different place, didn't even have a whole body after death. He was beheaded by the evildoers and ended his life.

Is this what you get in exchange for the practice in this life?
If this is the only way to practice in one life, then what is the use of this practice?

If this is the only way to practice in a lifetime, then what's the use of practicing?

Shan Yang waved the hoe in his hand, and smashed it on his belief, cracking it, and the golden light overflowed.

Under the bright golden light, there is a piece of dross, bloody, dirty, and whirling hell.

What Shan Yang sees is completely irrelevant to what he believes in.

For a long time, Shan Yang didn't stop until the sun set and the moon and stars faded away.

Sweat had soaked his clothes, and the autumn wind swept through, bringing a chill.

Shan Yang wrapped their bodies in the quilts of his master and senior brothers, and put them into the pit in front of him.

Little by little, he pushed the soil in front of him down, as if he was burying his belief little by little.

It's hard to imagine that a ten-year-old boy can only bury his relatives with his own hands, without the strength to restrain a chicken.

And at the moment of losing his loved ones, his hard-working faith, the god he firmly believed in, the Western Buddha, also disappeared in his heart.

Several mounds appeared under the maple trees, and Shan Yang knelt in front of the mounds, his face pale.

He no longer knew how to cry, nor how to tell.

In this world, the only people who understood him passed away in an instant.

But in this process, he was wandering in the sky, listening to the faint voice of Buddha from Lingshan.

If he could choose again, Shanyang would never do so, and he would never choose this way.

He would rather go to hell with his master than be an incompetent person who hates himself afterwards.

But when things have come to this point, what can he do as a ten-year-old monk...

Late at night, the wind is cold.

Shan Yang's whole body was soaked, and his body was shivering from the cold, but he felt a burst of heat.

In a haze, he lay in front of his master's grave and fell asleep.

It seems that everything is back to the past, back to the time when nothing happened yet.

In his ears, it seemed that Master's laughter and cursing came again, as if he heard the familiar voice again: "Shan Yang..."

In the haze, several voices came to Shan Yang's ears.

He couldn't open his eyes anymore, he just felt his body being hugged and running quickly.

"What's wrong! Little master! Little master!"

"Quick! Go down the mountain and call someone! Report to the government! Quick!"

"Gushan Temple has been attacked by bandits! Hurry up and report to the authorities!"

"Little master! Little master!"

The voice disappeared again.

In the haze, Shan Yang felt that his eyelids were a little heavy, and a more hazy voice came from his ears.

"We took the child back. After all, it is the blood of my Li family."

"The incident at Gushan Temple should have been done by gangsters running around. After a long time, no one can be found."

"Okay, okay, don't talk about this for now, take the child back first."

"Thank you, my lord. This is a little thought, not a respect."

In the haze, Shan Yang felt that his body was getting heavier and heavier.

In a haze, he felt that someone was pouring something into his mouth again. The bitterness made him feel like vomiting.

In the haze, everything seemed to return to the past.

Shan Yang felt that he was in a very quiet environment and fell asleep deeply.

In the haze, a majestic voice sounded.

"Golden Cicada..."

(End of this chapter)