e feeling he had given before.After a few steps, Qing Huo Gao Chi had already made a decision, so he said: "Let Yuan Chen accompany you."This time, Jiang Wang didn't refuse again: "Let's go."When the..."Why should the bitterness of taste be a crime against the world"
How did it come to this bitterness
At this moment, Jiang Wang couldn't ask about Ku Jue's reasons for dying. He could only ask, "Why wasn't Ku Jue respected"
Ku Jue is carefree and lacks the demeanor of a learned person. Ku Jue always wallows in the dust.
>
A bitter taste is always cheap and shapeless.
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But these things shouldn't be reasons for him to be looked down upon.
He was truly a carefree master of the world. He was a contemporary high monk with the current abbot of Xuankong Temple, and among those who practiced alongside him back then, few could match him in Buddhist teachings or cultivation.
However, at the Suspended Sky Temple, he was practically "nonexistent." Even the common people at the foot of the mountain were unaware that such suffering existed in the world. Is there really no room for a true person who simply wants to live their life in this world when there are already real people who view all beings as ants and those who distort right from wrong
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Before, Jiang Wang always felt that no matter how he was treated, it was his own business. He had his own way of dealing with the world, and he wouldn't be bullied by anyone. But now he can't jump up and scold people anymore.
What can Jiang Wang do
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When his letters went unanswered, he came to the Hanging Temple many times, persistently seeking an audience. Each time, all he received was the news that she was on a bitter pilgrimage.
When worried about Kuju's safety, he was mild and courteous, respectfully bowing at the door— "Please tell me where Senior Kuju is."
Upon becoming a member of the Taixu Pavilion, he immediately went to Xuankong Temple, paid homage to the mountain, and received a letter from Kujue.
Now he hopes this world will give suffering the respect it deserves. To that end, he is willing to challenge everyone.
He did not intend to be an enemy of Hanging Temple.
He was merely a disciple, a junior, an apprentice-like figure, fighting for the voice he never dared to speak for himself, and for the dignity of the "master" he had never uttered.
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Because bitterness can no longer fight for itself.
Though I have not yet entered the Buddhist monastic life, Mount Sāgī is like home to me, for it is within the realm of Buddhism.
The grumpy Sickbed Zhenren didn't immediately lash out, and no other Zhenren appeared. None of the surrounding monks called for anyone either.
People see the world-renowned Jiang Wang pressing his sword here in this holy land of Buddhism. What they see is not anger or arrogance, but overflowing with grief that cannot be contained.
This person is too sad.
The bitter and upright master Leng Mian did not burst into anger. He stood there silently. His expression, as severe as it was carved from a blade, held a silence that was impossible to describe.
Maybe he had a lot to say! But he didn't say anything.
>
Behind the mountain gate, a sorrowful sigh echoed softly: "If you have come for enlightenment, what obstacles are there for you to pass Master Jiang, please enter the mountain gate."
>
Kūdī then turned to the side.
Jiang Wang tried his best to smile brightly, but he could only manage a blank expression.
>
He stood straight, chest puffed and sword at his side, striding with long, powerful steps. He represented Mount Sanzang as he walked through this hallowed ground of Buddhism, a tiger among dragons. To have riches yet not return home, to achieve success yet not show honor – how regrettable it must be for the old monk.
The pure depth of Sanzhao Mountain. Today, I am adorned in fine clothes!
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Among the complex gazes of the multitude of monks, he followed closely behind the head abbot of Guan Shi Yuan, stepping into this sacred Buddhist land that opened in the earthly mountains and walked into the ethereal Zen realm.
That towering temple suspended in mid-air, the pagoda forest shimmering with jewels, and the chants that echoed through millennia couldn't capture Jiang Wang's attention.
He walked on silently.
Ku Di walked silently ahead, leading the way. Silence was the echo of the ancient temple.
No matter how long the road, there is an end. Even if we walk for a long time, we cannot keep our hearts steady. But he inexplicably hoped that the road would be longer.
He'd rather walk until there is no end.
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Jiang Qingyang led the charge, Jiang Wuan was renowned for his bravery, and Old Master Jiang shouldered the responsibilities of the world. As for Jiang Wang, he couldn't face the ending bravely.
But he finally arrived at the silent chamber of the abbot of Xuankong Temple. The door was pushed open silently by Kitigarbha.
Jiang Wang walked forward.
The Master of Misery sat behind a long table.
There was only one incense burner on the case, with three sandalwood sticks.
A wisp of blue smoke rose, faintly blurring the wrinkles on Master Ku's face.
The portly Buddhist monk, who was always seen with a furrowed brow, now wore a carefree expression. Today, he could not grieve for the suffering of the world.
He simply sat there quietly, as if he had been sitting for many years.
"I knew this day would come, but it's a little sooner than I expected." He said so.
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Jiang Wang walked to his front and knelt on the cushion in front of the long table, facing the abbot of Xuankong Temple. His spine was still straight: "Please tell me, Abbot, how did all this happen."
Bitter lamented, "Where do I even begin"
He shook his head. "I can't stand aside and speak in an objective way. I, a monk who has renounced the world, cannot describe things without emotion—"
He raised a thick finger, pointing it at Jiang Wang's brow: "All of this, please go and see for yourself in his destiny."
Jiang Wang knelt before the incense burner, slowly closing her eyes.
"Your mother's insole is rotten like a spoiled egg, and a three-inch nail jumps onto the Buddha's knee! Damn you, Kuang Ming, how dare you still be a rebellious commander. Why didn't you overthrow Zong Dezhen! Back then, he had three palaces, six courtyards, seventy-two concubines, and countless people followed him, hoping to gain power. A group of people fought hard to build an empire, and he turned his head and ran up Mount Yujing—even monks know that he sculpted himself into a golden body, forgetting his devotees. He abandoned his roots the moment he went up the mountain—a heartless wretch, worthy of being called the number one evil lord in the world!"
In the meditation hall, an old monk with a yellow face lay half-reclined on the ground. One leg was propped up on the other, one hand scratching his footboard, and the other beating the ground from time to time, adding to his momentum and imposing manner.
His mouth was a torrent of abuse, nonstop for hours. Every time he reached a critical point in his tirade, he'd slam his fist onto the ground with a resounding "bang."
Bang! "Zong Dexheng!"
“You despicable old turtle, you’ve crawled into your grandpa’s crotch! If you love this so much, why don’t you go to the toilet Thousands of years old and still a stubborn fool, bullying me, a young man! You want back that goddamn Zi Xu Ding Shen Fu Do you have any shame After living for so long, you haven't improved at all! If Buddha were your age, he would have already attained enlightenment! You cling to the national system and Yu Jing Mountain, but nothing goes your way. Have some decency!”
"Stop scolding!" A voice, weak with illness, came from outside the meditation hall. Though it was meant to be a plea, it boomed like thunder, sounding more like an argument: "Scolding too much will prevent even the Empty Sky Meditation Realm from shielding you; True Master Zi Xu will hear it!"
"That's just what I want him to hear!" The yellow-faced old monk was furious in his meditation chamber. "If this bastard doesn't listen, then the Buddha's scolding was for nothing!"
The sick man said, "You mustn't tell the mountain gate—"
“Shut up, you sick bastard!!” The yellow-faced old monk cursed indiscriminately: “Buddha hasn't scolded you yet, do you think you're something good! Your senior brother was immobilized and thrown back with despicable means, are your eyes blind You dare to slash him Aren’t you going to subdue the dragon What kind of earthworm did you subdue Are you a rooster! You don't fight anyone else, you run here to persuade me, thinking Buddha has a good temper What is this thing!”
Although his voice was hoarse from illness and powerful, he couldn't out-curse him. He left grumbling and turned to go away.
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Chapter 103: This Road Won't Work (2/2)
But the yellow-faced old monk in the meditation hall wouldn't let up: "Get out, you Buddha! Buddha will count to three, don't make Buddha curse angrily!"
"One! Two—one! You miserable pig! You fat, big-headed swine! I know you're listening, don't play dead! Always eavesdropping, silent when it matters. Are you worthy of being the abbot Are you worthy You wouldn't have lasted this long without your stubborn spirit, would you Fatso! Get out here! If you don't come out, I'll insult your master!"
A mournful voice echoed, "Wasn't my master also your master"
The old monk with a yellow face pointed at the sky and cursed the ground: "You bastard! You don't even care about insulting our master!" The unfortunate man remained silent.
"Lord Buddha!" the yellow-faced old monk shouted again, "Lord Buddha is not..."
"Shut up!" The hapless, rotund figure burst into the meditation room: "Do you know what you're saying Are you insane!"
A face as thin as a sheet of paper, with the pallor of a serious illness, and the sternness of a profound truth, all entered the meditation hall and looked at him intensely. All the senior brothers who were still alive had gathered for this occasion.
No one expected the old monk with a yellow face to dare slander Buddha! This is simply crossing the bottom line of Buddhist practitioners!
"Hehehe." The old monk with a yellow face crawled up from the ground, his face nonchalant. He said in a languid tone: "The Buddha went mad long ago, not just today. Have you only realized it today!"
"I understand your feelings. But things have come to this point, we've all been through so much, and we know that things don't always go our way. Even if you become a Buddha, many things can't be changed!" Kuo Ming sighed with despair, his weary face etched with sorrow: "The mountain gate has been passed down for generations, neither you nor I can be capricious. Don't make any more trouble. This talisman from Zhenjun Zixu is already a warning—stop here!"
“That’s all for now.” The yellow-faced old monk raised his finger and pointed at them one by one: “Suffering, sickness, the truth of suffering. Listen well."
He said in a rare serious and calm tone, "From today on, I officially leave the Hanging Sky Temple. Our brotherhood ends here."
"What do you think of this temple, hanging in the air" Kitigarbha said angrily. "You come and go as you please, leaving when you want and returning when you want!"
"Don't talk to me in a low voice!" The yellow-faced old monk suddenly pointed at his nose: "No respect! When the senior brothers speak, it's not your turn to speak!"
At that instant, Ku Di flew into a rage.
Ku mìng sighed and said, “Are you serious”
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"You take advantage of his benefits, but you don't help him. You talk about Buddhist connections and good believers, but when trouble arises, you hide your heads! What kind of sacred place is this! Do I yearn to stay here" Ku Jue pointed at himself: "I, Ku Jue! Today, I leave Xuankong Temple,"
Never to return! Let heaven and earth bear witness, and all Buddhas serve as testimony!"
"Get out of my way!" He strode past several monks, bumping into Kitigarbha deliberately, and left the meditation hall alone.
>
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A true master who had truly left Mount Empty, and the temple itself had no reason to stop him. Suffering and the truth of suffering no longer spoke.
The only problem was that illness chased him for a few steps, chasing him into the empty state of Zen and catching up to him in the cloud-filled sky: "Even if you don't think about yourself, you should at least think about Jingli!"
The old monk with a yellow face said, "Jingli has grown up now. The future of Xiangkong Temple belongs to him. He is a fortunate person. I am going now to save that unfortunate soul."
>
Ailing and speechless, I suffer in silence.
“Take this! The Buddha is leaving, he's leaving a few brushstrokes for his disciple, don't peek.” The yellow-faced old monk suddenly flung a stack of papers at him, landing them in his arms: “When my family's cleansing ceremony becomes the abbot, first have him remove your title of Dragon Subduing Temple Headmaster, you lack foresight!”
Then he just went off on a rant and stomped away. Huff, huff.
A light breeze blows across the long river.
Six figures suddenly appeared, suspended above the long river.
Standing at the front was an elderly man with a youthful appearance and a tall figure. He frowned: "The Eternal Town Mountain River Seal has suppressed this place, making its aura very difficult to capture."
"That's not a proper argument." The oddly-faced Chen Pi Taoist began to retort again: "This 'difficulty,' is it relative to something Is there any standard You can't just say something is difficult without reason. Saying it's difficult doesn't convey anything."
Nobody paid any attention to him.
Wearing a plain-colored Daoist robe, the female cultivator Ling wore a frown as she stretched out her hand in mid-air and grasped at something invisible. "Qi is hard to grasp, but I've caught hold of Zhuang Gaoxian's—he must be planning to turn the tables within the Zhuang realm. We might as well go directly to Zhuang Guo."
Among the Six Friends of Jingtian, Gancao, who appeared to be the youngest and most beautiful, with the most serious expression, shook her head: "For us, for Zhuang Gaoxian, this is all too sudden. It should have happened in a few years, but for Jiang Wang, this is his chosen time, and he must have made a lot of preparations for it. Now that he has pushed Zhuang Gaoxian to this point, will he allow Zhuang Gaoxian to escape back to Zhuang Guo"
Bai Shu stepped on wooden clogs, his feet treading the ripples of the river, with an elegant air: "There's no need to rush. From here to Zhuang Guo, it's only this short distance. Just follow at your own pace. Are you in such a hurry to save Zhuang Gao Xian"
"We should keep an eye on things, making the situation more to our liking. Oh, wait—" The middle-aged Banxia suddenly stopped walking, shaking his head with a chuckle: "It seems we can't follow up immediately!"
Just as his words fell, a *boom* echoed through the air. Like a meteor streaking across the sky, a stone from heaven plummeted down, a figure slicing through the heavens and crashing directly onto the surface of the river! *Splash!*
In the midst of water exploding upwards, a yellowish-faced old monk in patched robes slowly stood up.
The straw sandals trod upon the water's surface, the monk's robes were yellowed and dusty. The man in the water was a solitary reflection, with no one behind him. Yet, the expression on his face was one of great satisfaction.
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"Excuse me everyone—"
He looked at the six people opposite him, each with their own unique features, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "My apprentice is doing important business ahead and doesn't want to be disturbed."
The old Taoist priest, Cang參, with the appearance of a young man despite his age, had a terrible temper. Seeing this monk blocking his path, he asked, "Are you here representing Xuankong Temple"
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Last time in the Wu Yan Mountains, he was with Ku Jue. Compared to other real people, they were a little more familiar.
Kuo Jue clapped his palms together, beaming with pride: “Xuan Kong Temple is nothing! I’ve kicked them out, and from now on there's no connection. Today, standing here is the ‘Supreme Buddha of the Ten Thousand Worlds, the First in All Ages. You are Buddha Master Kuo Jue! The Buddha represents himself! Isn’t that enough!”
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He prattled on, "If you're wise, you'll scurry away right now. The Buddha recognizes you lot, but the Buddha's fists don't!" Don't think I'm not serious!
The six friends looked at each other.
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"Same as standing on the river surface, Baiji smiled: 'Since it only represents yourself, then there's nothing better.' BOOM!!!"
Seven figures above the long river collided in an instant! Their impact split them apart.
The figure of bitterness floated backward, only to fall back on the water. One straw sandal had already been soaked in it; yet, he still retreated a hundred paces back, creating two waves.
With a slip of both feet, they came to a halt on the water's surface. Two long furrows rippled outward, crashing against the banks.
At this moment, he was in the posture of a half-drawn bow, not hunched, but drawn tight.
With one hand outstretched before him, he pressed down on the river surface as if to grasp the long river and suspend himself in mid-air. His other hand rested behind him, as if pressing against the void and steadying himself.
Fleeting sparks flowed outwards from within, surging intensely in an instant, as if the light were boundless.
He was like a jade stone buried in the rock, and at this moment, he peeled off his stony skin, finally revealing his brilliance.
"What a pity," he said with a smile. "My wayward son doesn't get to see my brilliance now. He won't be convinced otherwise!"
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With a flick of his withered eyebrows, the monk's robes billowed suddenly, unleashing unimaginable power from his frail body. Infinite light, like a tsunami crashing down mountains, spread in all directions. But because of the suppression of the Eternal River Seal, it remained unseen beyond the great river. Yet, why should one care about being seen by others
The old monk is not for the world. He has come for one person only.
The body is the five senses, the heart is the seven emotions, the intention is the six thoughts, and the spirit is the three wisdoms. This is what is meant by hearing, thinking, and cultivating, receiving enlightenment. Bodily awareness, mental awareness, intentional awareness, and spiritual awareness. He opened his mouth wide and said, "This path is impassable!"
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Please: wap.ishuquge.la how difficult it was. He didn't give up, he never even thought about giving up.He vaguely felt he had touched upon some kind of inspiration, but it was so ethereal and elusive.Everything else fades a...