A monk walked out of the hall. The monk was not very old. His face was dark, and he was slightly plump. The distance between his eyes was a little far, and he looked a little silly, or perhaps naive. However, his eyes were extremely clear.
The monk was holding a white and fat steamed bun in his hand and chewing it all the way. His face was full of joy. He didn't see the road clearly and bumped into Ning Que.
"Ouch."
The monk rubbed his head and brushed his fingers over the scars. His left hand was still holding the steamed bun so tightly that his fingers sank into the white and soft bun. His eyes were full of tears. It seemed that he was really in pain.
The monk bumped into him because he didn't see the road clearly. It had nothing to do with Ning Que. But somehow, Ning Que felt pity for the monk and apologized gently.
The monk looked at Ning Que's face and was suddenly stunned. He forgot the pain and suddenly became happy. He put the steamed bun in front of Ning Que and said with a smile, "My treat."
Ning Que was surprised and asked, "Why do you want to treat me?"
The monk said, "Because you look like me. My master said that I am a good person, so you are also a good person."
Ning Que looked at his silly face and thought, "How do I look like you?" He asked, "Who are you?"
The monk answered honestly, "My name is Qingbanzi."
Ning Que looked at his expression and tone and knew that his mind was probably not fully developed. So he asked casually, "Where do you come from, Qingbanzi?"
Monk Qingban refused to answer. He raised the steamed bun higher and almost touched Ning Que's mouth.
Ning Que understood and took the steamed bun from his hand and took a bite.
Monk Qingban clapped his hands happily and took Ning Que's hand to a certain place on the temple wall. He pointed at the moss-covered stone steps outside a side door and said, "I come from here."
Ning Que looked at the stone steps and vaguely understood that this person was probably an abandoned baby who was abandoned by his relatives and thrown on the stone steps outside the White Tower Temple. Then he was taken in by the monks in the temple and grew up like this.
"Why do you say that I look like you?" He asked curiously.
Monk Qingban pursed his lips and said shyly, "My master said that I am an idiot with innate wisdom. My brothers in the temple also said that I am an idiot. You looked like an idiot before, so of course you have the innate wisdom."
Ning Que thought that the eminent monk Lotus was in his consciousness, so of course he had the innate wisdom. But … the monks in the temple said that Qingban was an idiot. What did it have to do with innate wisdom?
Monk Qingban was so naive and naive. Ning Que naturally wouldn't say these things to add to his worries. So he let the monk hold his hand and wander in the temple.
The bell in the temple rang far away, and Ning Que gradually calmed down. The strange feeling he had when he saw the White Tower and the water shadow by the lake gradually disappeared, which made him feel very comfortable.
In the meditation room of the side hall of the temple, Monk Qingban took out more than 300 Buddhist scriptures left by his master and showed them to Ning Que, just like a child showing off his treasures to his friends.
Ning Que didn't want to disappoint him, so he picked up a Buddhist scripture and began to read it. He praised it from time to time. Monk Qingban was scratching his ears and cheeks with joy.
There was a true meaning in the scripture. Ning Que just praised it casually. But after reading it, he found it was really interesting. He gradually immersed himself in it and forgot to go back.
When he woke up, it was already late at night. He felt very uneasy and quickly got up. He woke up Monk Qingban, who had fallen asleep on the futon, and left the White Tower Temple and walked back to the small courtyard.
The reason why he felt uneasy was that he was so greedy for Buddhist scriptures that he forgot to cook dinner. Now the most important thing for Sangsang was to eat and sleep. What would she think of him?
Sangsang was not in the small courtyard, but under a tree by the stream outside. Hearing Ning Que's footsteps, she didn't turn around to look at him. Instead, she continued to look at the sky, and the small white flower in her hair trembled in the night wind.
Ning Que walked to her side and expressed his sincerest apologies for forgetting to cook dinner today.
Sangsang was in a good mood because she had been looking at the sky for a whole day. The sky was so beautiful that she had long forgotten to eat, so she showed her tolerance to Ning Que.
That night, after dinner in the courtyard, Ning Que talked about what he had seen and heard in the White Tower Temple today. He mentioned the silly monk Qingban and said, "Would you like to go with me tomorrow?"
"It's always good to have some new friends."
Sangsang said like an ordinary housewife, but she didn't agree to go with him to the White Tower Temple tomorrow. She wanted to stay in the courtyard and look at the sky. The sky was so beautiful that she couldn't get enough of it.
In the following days, apart from accompanying her to wander around the city, Ning Que spent most of his time in the White Tower Temple. He talked with Monk Qingban, listened to the bell and read the Buddhist scriptures, and felt quite peaceful. Sometimes he would bring back some vegetarian food for Sangsang to eat, but Sangsang did not like it.
Sangsang was still sleepy. When she woke up, she would look at the sky from morning to dusk. Under the tree and by the stream, she quietly looked at the sky. She felt that the sky was beautiful, but also a little strange.
One day, Ning Que said that she could also look at the sky in the White Tower Temple. Sangsang thought it was very reasonable, so she followed him to the White Tower Temple. Although she didn't like the vegetarian food and the monks in the temple, she thought that the lake was very beautiful, and the sky reflected in the lake was also very beautiful. So she began to sit by the lake and look at the sky.
The days went on like this. Ning Que and Sangsang looked at the lake, the sky, and the Buddhist scriptures in the morning bell and the evening drum. They were calm and happy. Time passed slowly, and gradually they didn't know how long they had been.
…
…
The bright bell reverberated among the peaks and in hundreds of temples, waking up many monks. Compared with the melodious and distant bell in the Xuankong Temple in the past, today's bell seemed so strong and even a little anxious, because it was a warning.
The bell transmitted countless messages and also pointed out the direction. More than a hundred soldier monks walked out of the yellow temple on the West Peak and rushed down the peak. They changed horses at the foot of the mountain and turned into a cloud of dust, riding along the mountain road to somewhere in the dark underground field at high speed. Their monk robes fluttered in the wind, and their momentum was shocking.
The vast underground field had always seemed so quiet in the past countless years. But today, somewhere in the field, the sound of killing had already shaken the sky. Smoke and dust were everywhere, and the sound of shouting and the sound of weapons colliding could be heard everywhere. Among them, there were also the sad chanting of scriptures, which was very strange.
The former Buddhist land had become a battlefield, and the once devout believers had already become bloodthirsty Asuras. However, if killing was a sin, in fact, this place had always been a Shuraba.
More than a hundred soldier monks came to the periphery of the bloody battlefield with iron sticks in their hands and slowly stopped. Their horses gradually parted, and four monks wearing bamboo hats came out.
The leading monk had a plain face and a determined expression. Even the shadow of the bamboo hat could not hide the tranquility in his eyes. He was Qi Nian, the World Wayfarer of Buddhism.
The other three monks wearing bamboo hats looked very old, and they were all the elders of the Commandment Hall of the Xuankong Temple.
Qi Nian quietly looked at the battlefield, but his eyes passed through the smoke and dust raised by the hooves of the horses and fell on the cliff far away. There were people on the cliff, and he was responsible for the world under the cliff.
The nobles of dozens of tribes were armed and united. After dozens of days of desperate fighting, they finally stopped the slaves in front of the meadow beside the abandoned gold field. The Xuankong Temple had also sent powerful soldier monks and strong cultivators. Logically speaking, the outcome of the war had already been decided. But Qi Nian still felt a little uneasy, because he always felt that that person would not admit defeat so easily.
The rebellion of the serfs in the underground field had lasted for a year.
In the beginning, the rebellion was just a riot of shepherds of a poor tribe by the cliff, and more than a dozen people were killed. The tribe tried to suppress it by force, and even invited a monk who was punished by the Commandment Hall to the Holy Mountain. Unexpectedly, the armed forces of the nobles of the tribe were all killed in the suppression, and the monk did not survive.
The Xuankong Temple still did not care much. They had ruled the underground world for countless generations, and the monks in the temple had long been used to it. Every few years, there would be descendants of sinners who would forget the mercy of the Buddha, and ungratefully try to get treatment that they were not qualified to get. But no matter how fierce the sinners were at the beginning, in the end, they only needed to send a few monks to suppress them, and they could also prove to the believers how powerful the Holy Mountain was. So why not?
But the serfs' rebellion this time was very different from the countless rebellions in the past. The nobles gathered two hundred cavalrymen to suppress the sinners made up of more than a hundred sick and weak shepherds, but they still did not succeed. So they gathered more troops, but they still did not succeed. In the end, the nobles sent a thousand cavalrymen, and even invited professional slave hunters, but they still did not succeed.
The encirclement and suppression of the rebels never stopped, but not only did they not succeed, but the ranks of the rebels grew larger and larger, and several wandering ascetic monks died in the battle.
News of this rebel army began to spread in the underground world, along with the legend that the rebel army had found the way to the true Elysium. Their innate desire for freedom and their innate hatred for suffering and inequality caused the rebel army to gain more and more sympathizers, and some even began to respond to them.
Similar to the rebellion of the cliffside tribe, the rebellions of other tribes in the underground world were often initiated by shepherds. Those who lived between heaven and earth for generations, accompanied by cattle and sheep, and were relatively free to migrate, had the strongest desire for freedom and the firmest resistance against exploitation.
More and more people joined the rebellion, and the wilderness of the underground world became more and more chaotic. The order that had been maintained in the Buddhist Kingdom for thousands of years began to be threatened, especially as more wandering ascetic monks were killed by the rebels. The Xuankong Temple could no longer watch calmly as before.
The monks of the Xuankong Temple were practitioners, and for the serfs in the underground world, they were the living Buddhas who used to worship. Whether in terms of spirit or strength, the appearance of these monks was the most fatal blow to the rebellious serfs.
In a very short time, most of the rebellions in the underground world were suppressed.
However, some things were difficult to end once they started, some ideas were difficult to extinguish once they were born, and some bonfires were difficult to extinguish once they were lit. The fire of rebellion in the meadow seemed to be about to be extinguished, but who knew how many sparks were hidden under the weeds?
A few months later, dozens of rebellions of various sizes occurred in the underground world. After suppressing one, the monks of the Xuankong Temple had to rush to another. What made them tired and helpless was that every time they finished suppressing a rebellion, a new one would occur.
A single spark could start a prairie fire.
…
…
(Something happened and affected me. I must finish the five chapters today, but please understand that I don't have the time and energy to revise it. It may be rough.) (To be continued. If you like this work, please come to Qidian.Com to vote for me. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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