"Amitabha, he's alive!" There was a burst of cheers from the crowd. Hui Cong handed the soup bowl to someone else to feed him. He clasped his hands and thanked Liu Chongguang. Liu Chongguang looked up and down and suddenly asked, "Dare I ask? Which temple are you a Zen master in?"
Huicong glanced at Liu Chongguang and replied carefully: "The poor monk is Huicong from Dinglin Temple!"
"Ah, it turns out he's an eminent monk from Dinglin Temple!" Liu Chongguang slapped his thigh, which startled him: "I, Liu Chongguang, have been making statues for temples for generations!" After that, he planned to bury the body and build a Buddhist temple. He informed the other party about the memorial ceremony for the dead in the pagoda, and finally said: "I still invite the Zen Master to come, so don't refuse!"
"This is the job of the poor monk!" Huicong agreed, and then he asked in a low voice: "Where did you get so many people?"
"It doesn't matter!" Liu Chongguang took out a waist card and waved it in front of Huicong: "This was given to me by the general of the Tang Dynasty. Anyone who is willing to work hard to build the pagoda will be given cakes and hot soup!"
"The general of the Tang Dynasty allowed you to build a pagoda to appease the souls of the dead, and he was also willing to provide food?" Hui Cong could hardly believe his ears: "Is it true or false?"
"Of course it's true. Is there a waist badge to prove it?" Liu Chongguang handed the waist badge to Hui Cong. Hui Cong looked at it. Although he had never seen the real Tang Jun waist badge, the workmanship should not be forged. He handed the badge to Hui Cong. Returned to Liu Chongguang: "Since that's the case, let's do it quickly!"
Wang Wenzuo took the torch from Master Shen and inserted it into the pyre. The fish oil burned immediately, and the hay also burst into flames the next moment. Small flames shot out everywhere in the pyre and climbed among the branches and leaves. Wang Wenzuo took a step back to avoid the hot breath that hit his face.
"We sailed together in the same boat and fought side by side! It breaks my heart to lose you today! One day when I return to my hometown in fine clothes, I will definitely bring my bones back to my hometown, bury them in my hometown, and be neighbors with my ancestors! The soul has returned!"
"The soul is back!"
Wang Wenzuo's voice was high-pitched and sad, and everyone echoed in unison, attracting the Baekje people who were building a pagoda not far away to stop and watch. They knew that the Tang people were also cremating the soldiers who died in the war. Although they couldn't understand the language, they felt that kind of loss. The grief of the companions is the same, and the hatred in their hearts is still undiminished, but they gradually understand that the other party is not a green-faced and fanged man-eating monster, but a person of flesh and blood like himself.
Huicong finished reciting the Purana Sutra and the Diamond Sutra in front of the simple pagoda, and after saving the souls of the dead, he asked Liu Chongguang who was beside him: "Donor Liu, the poor monk has an unkind request!"
"Zen Master, please speak!"
"From what I can see, I think you are quite eloquent in front of that Tang general. Could you please find out for us how to deal with us so that we can be prepared!"
"This -" Liu Chongguang opened his mouth. Of course he knew that this request was a bit too much. In Wang Wenzuo's eyes, he was just a craftsman, so he had no weight.
"Donor Liu, the poor monk also knows that this matter is very difficult to handle, but it costs thousands of lives!" Seeing this, Huicong quickly emphasized his tone: "Everyone has parents, wives and children, and they are eagerly waiting for their lives at home. Come back!"
Huicong's last words broke through Liu Chongguang's defense, and he gritted his teeth: "Forget it, I will risk my life to ask a question for the Zen Master!"
The fire has gradually extinguished. The soldiers who covered their mouths and noses with white cloth used iron hooks to push away the ashes and put the remaining white bones into earthen jars. These earthen jars will be filled with names according to the iron nameplates on the corpses. Transported back to the deceased's hometown for burial. And Wang Wenzuo stood by the fire and watched everything in person.
"Mr. Lang!"
"Sancho, is something wrong?"
"The coppersmith wants to see you!" Sancho whispered: "The older one!"
Wang Wenzuo said nothing. He stared at the fire until the last pile of bones was put into the clay pot.
"Take him to my tent!"
The curtain lifted, Wang Wenzuo raised his head and turned around, only to see Liu Chongguang coming in, bowing his head deeply. After a busy day and night, he looked haggard, his eye sockets were sunken, and his hands were bruised and bleeding. Sancho followed him, and the air in the tent seemed to freeze.
"Has the pagoda been repaired?"
"It's all healed!" Liu Chongguang didn't dare to raise his head: "The monks also sang sutras to send Buddhas to comfort the souls of the dead!"
"Very well, Sancho said you want to see me for something?"
"Yes!" Liu Chongguang swallowed. He felt his mouth was dry and he knelt down and kowtowed twice: "What do you plan to do with those prisoners?"
"Who asked you to ask?" Wang Wenzuo said with a cold look in his eyes: "Don't try to trick me, you won't be so bold as to take risks for a group of strangers!"
Liu Chongguang licked his chapped lips. He could feel the tremendous pressure from the man in front of him, like mercury pouring from all directions, making people breathless.
"That's the monk, right?"
Without waiting for confirmation from Liu Chongguang, Wang Wenzuo made a gesture, and Sanqiu walked out of the tent, and escorted Huicong back a moment later.
"Did you ask Liu Chongguang to ask me?" Wang Wenzuo put his elbows on the table, supported his chin with his hands, and stared at Huicong: "Why do you do this?"
Huicong glanced at Liu Chongguang. The man was kneeling on the ground, like a puddle of mud, but there were no signs of torture on his body - but maybe that was unnecessary. He nodded: "Yes, he is just a poor monk. Everyone wants to know their future, and I am no exception!"
Wang Wenzuo nodded: "Yes, but you are an outsider. What do worldly affairs have to do with you? You just want to live a good life and practice, so why would you want to be a thief!"
The corners of Huicong's mouth turned up slightly, revealing a trace of ridicule: "Your army destroyed my royal capital and killed my people. Although the poor monk is from outside the country, the food in his mouth and the clothes on his body are not donated by people from Baekje. How can it be so?" Is there any reason to sit back and watch you and others run amok?”
The silence in the tent was eerily quiet. Wang Wenzuo heard a slight rattling sound, but he saw that it was Liu Chongguang who was so frightened that his teeth were chattering. He motioned to Sancho to take him out of the tent and said with a smile: "Since ancient times, the two countries have been fighting. Killing is inevitable. But you are an outsider after all, and there is no way to continue like this. So, if you promise me not to be a thief again, I will let you go!"
"You let me go?" Hui Cong could hardly believe his ears: "Seriously?" As soon as he said the words, he knew that he had said the wrong thing. At this time, there were only Wang Wenzuo and himself in the tent, and there was no need for the other party to lie to him. .
"Of course it's true. In fact, it doesn't matter if you lied to me. There are rebels everywhere in Baekje right now, and there are not many of you left!"
When Huicong heard this, he was not surprised. Instead, he showed a wry smile: "To be fair to the general, in fact, it is impossible for a poor monk to be a thief now!"
"What's the meaning?"
