"Donor, please."
The young monk entered the temple first.
Zhao Wujiang's eyes were dyed with purple light and he also stepped into the temple.
Xuanyuan Jing and Li Chunjun also stepped in one after another.
As soon as Zhao Wujiang stepped into the temple gate, his eyes narrowed for a moment.
Because the young monk was missing, and there were no traces of Xuanyuan Jing or Li Chunjun in front of or behind him.
The temple in front of me looks a bit ancient.
An ancient tree in the sky, with lush branches and leaves, and vines wrapped around the waist of the tree. The vines have densely formed a network. The left side is connected to the side hall of the temple, and the right side is connected to the main hall of the temple.
Zhao Wujiang stepped onto the stone steps in front and climbed up.
He looked up at the main hall with its mottled and peeling red paint. The main hall had two floors. The first floor was about two feet high and the second floor was about one foot high.
In front of the main hall, there is a large square tripod.
The cauldron was almost filled with incense burnt out one after another. Only three incense sticks were smoking a little, as if they had just been lit.
Zhao Wujiang entered the main hall. Inside the hall was a giant Buddha, which was nearly three feet high and extended to the second floor of the main hall.
The Buddha statue has a solemn appearance and a compassionate expression.
To the left and right of the Buddha, there are two small incense burners.
Eight red canvases with scriptures written on them hang down from the second floor, solemn and strange.
Zhao Wujiang noticed that the stairs leading to the second floor had broken.
He walked towards the side door of the main hall, crossed the threshold, and saw a corridor.
He didn't notice that when he crossed the threshold, the eyes of the big Buddha behind him suddenly turned and looked at him. The original solemn appearance became extremely strange and penetrating.
Zhao Wujiang knew in his heart that this was Daolian's secret realm, not the outside world.
Will there be monks in the temple?
But the little monk who said the word reincarnation felt to Zhao Wujiang like an NPC in the game, guiding him.
Since entering Daolian's secret realm, I have received too many guidances.
Zhao Wujiang was a little numb. He no longer wanted to think too much about this kind of thing.
Zhao Wujiang walked through the corridor. Bamboo trees were planted beside the corridor. The bamboo leaves were yellow and shriveled.
At the end of the corridor, there are rows of side rooms, a total of four.
The side room faces the side hall.
Zhao Wujiang kicked open the first wing and immediately noticed the scriptures being read automatically on the wooden table in the middle of the room.
The scriptures shine with golden light.
Zhao Wujiang picked up the scripture and looked at it. It was a Heart Sutra.
He put it in his storage bag and walked to the next room.
As soon as he kicked it away, he saw the young monk in the side room and a coffin placed in the middle of the side room.
"What do you want to tell me? What do you want to do?" Zhao Wujiang stared into the little monk's vicissitudes of life.
The young monk clasped his hands and bowed, then closed the door of the wing and pushed open the lid of the coffin. There was nothing inside.
The young monk's eyebrows became serious, and his expression had a hint of evil:
"Ask the donor to lie down in the coffin."
"Why?" Zhao Wujiang said in a deep voice.
"Does the donor believe in reincarnation?" The young monk's eyes changed.
"Believe it." Zhao Wujiang nodded.
The young monk asked again:
"Then do you believe in your reincarnated identity?"
"I don't really believe it." Zhao Wujiang's expression became more solemn.
"Donor, haven't you discovered the problem yet?" The little monk's eyes became extremely sharp:
"You no longer have faith in your own intuition."
"So what if I lie down in it?" Zhao Wujiang's eyes became deeper and deeper.
"Lie down and you can see the truth." The young monk bowed and saluted.
Zhao Wujiang said no more, mobilizing the spiritual energy and demonic energy in his body, he stepped into the coffin and lay down.
The next moment, he was back where he was.
But he saw himself lying in the coffin, and this self had crystal clear threads on his limbs, joints, neck and head, like fishing lines, extending to the ceiling of the wing, and seemed to penetrate the ceiling. Extending to the sky.
"There is a kind of magic trick in the world called puppets on strings." The young monk spoke faster and seemed to be suddenly anxious:
“The person behind the scenes pulls the strings to control every move of the puppet.
You must get rid of these lines as soon as possible, otherwise, when the people behind the scenes come to the stage, you will be the one to end. "
