[I am Shi Xing. When you read this line, I am already dead. 】
Li Ang turned the slate over and the first sentence he read almost made him throw the slate away.
"What mysterious revival."
He shook his head and continued reading along the fly-headed script.
[I was born in Linshui Town, Huizhou City, in the second year of Xiande's reign. My father's name is Qu Twelve and my mother's name is Jiang Banmei. The two of them opened a clothing store in the town.
I was much precocious and intelligent compared to other children of the same age. I could copy and recite scriptures at the age of three or four. Because I could recite Buddhist scriptures at home, those monks thought I had wisdom and took me to the White Horse Temple in Chang'an.
The time spent in the temple cannot be said to be happy or unhappy. Whether it is Zen lectures, techniques, paintings, music, tea ceremonies, or poems, I only need to read them once to learn them. Gradually, I have adapted to other people's praise, praise, or jealousy and hostility.
I became indifferent to the opinions and comments of others, and my inner mind was as clear as a mirror. Even when I was thirteen years old, I won a debate between monks and Taoists, and I rode a horse around Chang'an City, but I still couldn't feel any emotions.
When I was fourteen years old, my parents finally came to Chang'an. I felt a rare sense of joy and went out of the city to greet them. But under the protection of the monks, they humbly called out my Dharma name, Shi Xing.
instead of my real name.
Qubai.
There is a thick wall between me and my biological parents.
For Zen Buddhism, a child of the Buddha should not have parents. Nor should one have siblings.
Since then, my heart has become more and more peaceful. At the age of fourteen, I listened to the rain, at the age of fifteen, I patrolled the clouds, until at the age of eighteen, I was only the last thin piece of paper away from the Zhuxiao realm.
Zen sects all over the world regard me as their hope for the future. The head of the Academy is willing to make an exception and accept me as a disciple. The Haotian Taoist sect, which has not been around the world for a long time, also wants me to go to Mount Taihao to give lectures.
But what's the point of all this?
I have left the world alone, without sorrow or joy.
I smile and caress the palms of believers, listen to their worries and sorrows, and give them guidance in life;
I shed tears for the homeless people who starve to death on the roadside, call on the monks and Taoists to give porridge to the victims, and use patrol clouds to build bridges and pave the way;
I walk around the world and make friends outside the temple.
Listening to young scholars complaining about the practice of writing papers in the imperial examinations, hearing officials despising officials who rose to power relying on the shadow of their fathers, listening to prostitutes complaining about the madams trying every possible means to embezzle money, listening to peasant women lamenting that their two children had starved to death...
I listened and observed various things in the world, but I did not realize that "the three realms are unstable, like a house on fire" as mentioned in the Buddhist scriptures. I just secretly felt that each of us were puppets on strings, acting together in a huge, messy, and meaningless drama.
Since it is a drama, there is no need to be emotionally invested - I maintain this idea and maintain the role I should play in the eyes of others.
A pious, intelligent and humble Buddhist.
Until she appeared. 】
she?
Li Ang raised his eyebrows. The woman described in the slate was not the Queen, but a young girl.
The following text is quite long in describing how beautiful, smart, and cunning the girl is. Like a white fox on a snow-capped mountain.
Qu Bai, or Shi Xing Seng, was quickly shaken and was willing to do anything for it.
Including obeying the other party's arrangements, giving up the reputation of being a disciple of the Buddha, and compiling the "Dayun Sutra" for the Holy Queen.
[I would like to transform into a stone bridge and be exposed to five hundred years of wind, five hundred years of sunshine, and five hundred years of rain, just so that she can walk across the bridge. 】
Li Ang looked at the words on the slate and couldn't help but rub his eyebrows. He always felt that this passage had a familiar feeling.
"The girl's name is not mentioned on the stone tablet, but she is probably a subordinate of the Holy Queen. She may even be Shangguan Wan'er."
Li Ang shook his head, not interested in Shi Xingseng's love story. What he cares about is the secrets about Jing Nian Sect.
[I was destined to encounter disaster, so I deliberately asked the Holy Queen to kill me and then bury my body in the Jing Nian Sect pagoda below the ghost market. In the hope that sixty years later, he will be resurrected with the secret method of Jing Nian Sect to deal with the predicted catastrophe]
Sixty years?
Li Ang frowned slightly and calculated the time. This year happened to be the 60th year after the death of monk Shi Xing. Could it be that he planned this?
But what about the predicted disaster?
【Now, you are me. Since the secret method of Jing Nian Sect will erase most memories, I divided all the memories about Jing Nian Sect and prophecies into three parts and placed them in three different locations, waiting for you to retrieve them. In order to prevent the news from leaking, the following is the specific location. Take this black lotus to find it. 】
The text stopped here, and what followed were all hieroglyphic-like patterns.
"This is... Gu Si Youwen?"
Li Ang paused and recalled what he had seen in the Academy Library. Legend has it that in the northern border of the Yu Kingdom, there is also an underground river system similar to the Chang'an Ghost Market, and the scale of the underground river is even larger.
The tribes living in the underground river and along the water are the Si Youmin.
The Siyou people rarely come to the surface, and their folk customs are very different from those on the surface. The most recent sighting record was a poet who accidentally fell into an underground river during the Jin Dynasty and was rescued by Si Youmin.
In addition, two hundred years ago, Dr. Xuegong discovered a pile of giant fish bones with inscriptions on them along the Yellow River. It is considered to be an item of the Siyou clan.
Li Ang narrowed his eyes. Since the number of Si You writing samples was rare and was only collected in the Dongjun Tower, he was not sure whether these hieroglyphs were the real Si You writings.
But if so, why would Monk Shixing use this kind of writing to convey information? Didn't he say that the resurrection secret method of Jing Nian Sect will erase most of the memories? How to ensure that he can remember this kind of writing after resurrection?
Li Ang thought for a moment, then decisively covered the dark lotus and stone slabs with ink silk, put on the mask given by Yajiu, walked out of the dense forest, and headed towards Chang'an.
He won't go down to the cave to find out what's going on.
First of all, Shi Xingseng only cares about the woman who is suspected to be Shangguan Wan'er, and has no true feelings for other people in the world.
Secondly, half of his head was blown off by Yajiu. The 'thing' that could still survive in this state was definitely not Shi Xingseng himself.
The most urgent task now is to remind the Zhenfu Division that a Buddha-slaughter monster has appeared below the ghost market.
Those things are huge in number and fearless of death. Each one of them is equivalent to an acquired warrior. If you enter the ghost market or even escape from the surface, it will definitely lead to disaster.
Just as Li Ang was mingling with the crowd and entering the city gate, several groups of soldiers from the Zhenfu Division hurriedly drove out from Chang'an City. The leading officers had met before at the end of the Jian Yue Theater Troupe's mutation.
And their riding direction was east of Chang'an.
"So fast?"
Li Ang was a little surprised and said silently, "That's right. With the ability of the Suppression Division, it is more than enough to place spies in the ghost market with hundreds of thousands of people. I must have heard the movement and received the news by now."
With Zhenfu Si helping to deal with the Jing Nian Sect pagoda, Li Ang felt relieved. Wearing a mask, he walked into Chang'an City and returned to his home in Jinchengfang.
