At this time, the chirping of birds came from the thorn bushes on the roadside. Wangfu stretched out his red and swollen arms to the tall monk, but he caught a glimpse of a gray-white bird droppings on the monk's cassock. He didn't care about this. , only care about his own condition. He said that I had treated my arms several times with a doctor named Jin Tie in the village on the back of the mountain, but it had no effect. After the treatment, it recurred again, causing severe itching and discomfort. The golden doctor said that this was an evil disease and could not be cured.
Wangfu looked at the monk, his fingers kept scratching, and he kept talking. Last time I came to Qinglong Temple, you told me that if the disease cannot be cured, I will come back to you.
Amitabha. Donor, your evil disease is difficult to cure with any medicine. If it is not cured, the poison will attack your heart and your life will be in danger. As soon as the tall monk opened his mouth, he became alarmist.
Wangfu was frightened, his face turned pale, he knelt down, kowtowed three times to the tall monk, and still knelt down, said, "Please help me, the monk."
I can't save you, you have this evil disease and you can only save yourself. Kneeling is useless, kowtowing is useless. The tall monk heard the "chirp" of the bird, turned around and walked over, and grabbed a small bird with brown feathers from the thorn bush. The bird's left wing was injured and fell down, unable to fly. The tall monk held the poor bird in his palms and walked to Wang Fu who had already stood up. He said that he had just rescued the little bird from the snake's mouth. Wangfu was surprised: Why save the bird?
Amitabha, my Buddha is compassionate, and I should help all sentient beings when they are in trouble.
Why can't the eminent monk cure my illness?
It’s not that we don’t want to treat him, it’s that the donor is suffering from an evil disease and must save himself. The tall monk turned around and walked towards Qinglong Temple with the bird in his hand.
Wang Fu quickly walked around in front of him: "Excuse me, eminent monk, can you explain clearly that I need to save myself from this evil disorder? How should I save myself?" Please give me some advice.
Seeing Wang Fu's sincere heart for asking for help, the tall monk asked him to take the injured bird. Wang Fu held it in both hands, and the bird continued to chirp. The tall monk cleared his throat and said, Donor, because of you in the past life, your accomplices burned a nest of wasps to death. The scorpion that bit you was transformed from the burned queen bee. It seeks revenge on you in this life. It's inevitable.
That being said, I can't even hide. Wangfu, holding a bird in his hand, is so pessimistic.
Of course there is still a way. The tall monk continued to point out: The injured bird in your hand also has a fate with you, but it is a bad fate. It is also a wasp in a nest of wasps burned to death by your accomplices. It and its swarm brothers If the resentment is not resolved, after death, its soul will change its appearance and become another animal. Whenever there is an opportunity, it will take revenge, and the process of revenge is the process of eliminating the karma of the benefactor. This little bird has no chance to take revenge on you now. If you can save It means that the wound on the wing of this little bird has been healed by you. If you release it to nature, your condition may get better because some of your sinful karma has been eliminated. Of course, in order for your red, swollen and itchy arm to fully recover, you must continue to release it.
At this moment, Wangfu felt itchy and uncomfortable. He put the injured bird on his left palm and used his right hand to scratch it. The bird's wings were injured, but other functions were still healthy. It looked at the lupus erythematosus on Wangfu's left wrist and pecked it with its sharp beak a few times from time to time. The pecks were not painful. To be rich is to hate the itchy lupus erythematosus and hope that the birds can peck away his itching. Wangfu thought luckily.
When the tall monk saw Wang Fu still standing in front of him, he said it was time for the donor to give way! Wangfu retreated to the roadside and said that the benefactor was willing to follow the guidance of the eminent monk and work hard to heal the injured bird until it could be released into the wild. He would insist on releasing the bird in the future to eliminate more karma and correct its mistakes.
Amitabha, the benefactor's kind thoughts suddenly arise, my Buddha is merciful, good, good. The tall monk finished speaking and walked straight towards Qinglong Temple.
Wangfu carried the bird over several mountains and returned home. The bird made a chirping sound. The blind mother thought her son had caught a chicken and came back, so she teased: Wangfu, you have been messing around outside a lot. When you were young, you couldn’t get famous, so why did you think of raising chickens?
Mom, that's not the case. Wangfu didn't want to tell the truth, so he made up a lie: This is not a chicken, but a precious bird given to me by a friend. I can sell it for money when I raise it.
Mother didn't ask any more questions and was very happy to hear Wang Fu's words. She wanted to be rich and prosperous. When Wangfu walked out, she approached Wangfu's father and talked about the precious bird. Wang Fu's father thought that Wang Fu had not accomplished anything, and sighed and said, don't believe him, it is not a mistake for his true career.
When Wang Fu went out, he also took the bird away. They couldn't see it, but they felt it. There was no sound of birds chirping at the moment. After hearing what Wangfu's father said, my mother seemed to have lost confidence in Wangfu. The couple is blind and relies on government relief, but they are very worried about their son. He is a normal person who does not work hard to learn a skill. If he learns this half-hearted thing today and learns unsteadily tomorrow, what will he rely on to make a living in the future? The mother expressed this concern, but the father who wanted to be rich remained silent.
It was summer, and it was hot. Wangfu's father was sitting in the room with his back bare. He was also sweating and a little itchy. It was bitten by a dragon, he thought as he scratched his body. Then he suddenly remembered that his neighbor had sent a bundle of straw, so he got up and walked to the side of the main room to touch it. He took out the straw bit by bit and twisted it into a braid. The Tujia people called it a cigarette pack. At night, they lit it without an open flame. There is only smoke, used to smoke Jiaozi.
He braided straw for a while, and his wife came over to help. The couple knitted for a long time and finally finished knitting a bundle of straw. Wangfu's father looked around with his feet and saw a lot of grass braids on the ground.
In the evening, Wangfu came back, and his parents heard the chirping of birds again. This time the bird was in a cage, a cage given by a birdkeeper in the village. The birdkeeper also told him that the bird should be protected from cats and rats at night, both of which eat small birds. It is best to hang the cage containing the bird on the beam for safety.
Of course Wangfu did as he was told. He remembered the tall monk's instructions to heal the bird's injury and then release it to nature. Therefore, he thought: The birds must not be harmed by cats and mice. Wang Fu was quite serious. He took the injured bird out and asked for some bulk anti-inflammatory powder from the village clinic. He sprinkled it on the bird's injured wings. His red and swollen arms were itchy and uncomfortable, so he just scratched them instinctively. .
When he returned home, he also tried to raise birds. He placed two small wooden tubes in the cage, filled with water and rice respectively. The birds were in front of people and did not eat or drink. Wangfu put down the bird cage and stepped aside to peek. After a while, the little bird pecked the rice with its sharp beak, took another sip of water, cocked its neck high, and then repeated the eating action. Wangfu felt happy that he had successfully raised the bird.
During dinner, Wangfu brought the birdcage to the table and took care of the bird. The bird stopped chirping and dozed off. It was not like the chicken in the cage who buried its neck under its wings to sleep. Instead, it stood quietly. Eyes closed quietly.
When Wang Fu was itching, his father heard the scratching sound, so of course he knew he was itching. Suspecting that a mosquito was biting him, he asked him to take a cigarette pack to his room after midnight to light up the mosquitoes. Wangfu thought that the birds were afraid of the smoke, so he didn't want the cigarette pack. Mother nags with concern, what should I do if mosquitoes bite me? When I hear your tickling sound, I feel anxious for you!
Mom, leave me alone. If a mosquito bites me, just slap it to death. Wangfu didn't want to tell him about the redness, swelling and itching on his left and right arms. If he told him, his parents would be worried about him.
