----
Zhao Wujiang was silent for a moment.
But as soon as she fell silent and took just one breath, anger surged on the delicate cheeks of the human sect saint Yang Miaozhen:
"I already know your intention, you and I, let's just let it go!"
Zhao Wujiang frowned, his big hand tightened tighter and tighter, the soft jade was warm and fragrant in his arms.
"Let go!" Yang Miaozhen struggled, but Zhao Wujiang was so powerful that she couldn't break free at all. She said angrily:
"You're looking for death!"
Zhao Wujiang turned a deaf ear and said slowly with a serious face:
"I will be responsible."
"Humph, take responsibility? Okay!" Yang Miaozhen's eyes flashed, and she bit Zhao Wujiang's shoulder with a pair of silver teeth. Then she raised her head, her black hair swaying, and there was blood on her lips, and she said in a deep voice:
"I have planted the human sect's Taoist spell and given you one hundred and eight days.
Within one hundred and eight days, you come to Renzong to look for me!
Otherwise, your Taoist heart will be burned and your soul will be scattered! "
"Okay, if I hadn't come, I'd probably be dead." Zhao Wujiang smiled gently, not caring about the pain on his shoulder, but looking into Yang Miaozhen's eyes.
Yang Miaozhen's eyes were full of water, as if there were waves of anger. Zhao Wujiang could indeed feel her extreme anger, but he did not feel the slightest murderous intention.
Yang Miaozhen was stared at so hard that she was at a loss for a moment. Her eyes flickered and she dodged, trying to avoid Zhao Wujiang's gaze.
But her eyes were avoided, but her exquisite body was not.
"Zhao Wujiang, don't..." She felt Zhao Wujiang's increasingly hot eyes and saw Zhao Wujiang's bent head.
"You planted a Tao spell on me, I'll plant my mark on you too." Zhao Wujiang smiled gently, his mouth was ruthless, biting on thousands of amorous feelings.
The amorous feelings trembled.
----
The rain was pouring, and the children were panting and sighing.
The raindrops pattered on the eaves of Lanruo Temple's house.
The people in the houses under the eaves also sang with the rain.
----
The showers have begun to subside, and the sky is gray and bright.
Zhao Wujiang led the horse to the towering ancient tree.
The body of Li Xuan, the beloved son of Tianzong, has disappeared, but he knows who did it.
The abbot of Lanruo Temple was far more than what he initially felt. He was just a master in his early stages of cultivation. He had already guessed this last night.
"Master, can you tell me the reason?" Zhao Wujiang stepped on the bluestone and spoke to the ancient tree. He knew that the abbot of Lanruo Temple could hear him.
He wanted to ask the reason, why did the mental method of "The Formless Prajna Sutra" appear so straightforwardly in the Sutra Pavilion?
Why did the master want to use his hand to get involved in the grievances between the three Taoist sects?
It seemed that from the time he sneaked into the Sutra Pavilion, to getting the mental method, to stepping out of the Sutra Pavilion, to being punched into Li Xuan's wing, ruining Li Xuan's plan, and finally to arousing desire, using the yin and yang combination. Yang Miaozhen was saved in a desperate way.
It seemed as if the host of Lanruo Temple had anticipated all this and pushed him step by step.
The twining vines of the ancient tree in the sky swayed, and a voice of compassion came:
"All conditioned phenomena are like bubbles in a dream, like dew or lightning, and should be viewed as such."
Zhao Wujiang frowned. He had read this in the "Diamond Sutra". It probably meant that all laws that rely on causes and conditions are like dreams, like shadows in bubbles, like mist, as unpredictable and unpredictable.
At the same time, it changes as fast as lightning.
We should look at everything in this world like this all the time, and not be attached to it and be bound by it to our originally free and free nature.
And if you focus on Zhao Wujiang's questions, it is probably telling him that his fate is too deep and the cause and effect is too heavy. There is no need to get to the bottom of some things. Instead, it is better to move forward in accordance with his own heart.
"Thank you, Master, for your advice." Zhao Wujiang clasped his hands together, with a sincere look on his face, took out a stack of banknotes from his arms, and placed about a thousand coins under the tree.
In fact, he didn't understand it at all, but it didn't matter. He would review it by himself and find the reason by himself.
The faint Buddhist chanting is still full of compassion:
"The donor is very kind."
