Chapter 217: The suffering of all
After that night, the cat demon temporarily stayed in this dilapidated temple. Firstly, it felt that the monk had saved it and it should repay him. Secondly, it was worried that the crazy woman was still nearby. If it ran into her as soon as it left, wouldn't it be an unjust death?
Of course, the cat demon didn’t think that this temple could subdue that woman.
According to the monk's muttering that night, the woman only chanted the name of Amitabha Buddha and caused the Buddha statue to shatter. It can be seen that her evil spirit was so strong that even Buddha could hardly suppress it.
As for how to repay the monk, the cat demon would go out hunting every day and bring back some rabbits, foxes, etc. for the monk. He thought the monk would be very happy since he could eat meat after all.
But the monk educated the cat demon seriously.
Of course, the cat demon was not convinced. It said, "If you don't eat them, I will." It bit the corpses into pieces and swallowed them in front of the monk. The monk was so angry that he trembled all over, but he still did not drive it away.
In this way, the cat demon would sleep peacefully on the palm of the broken Buddha statue every day, with the monk's chanting echoing in his ears day after day. At night, the cat demon would sneak out, both to check whether the crazy woman was still there and to find any human who could replenish his energy.
Later, it found that the monk would leave the temple with the tattered bowl every other day. It was very curious, so it followed him all the way, and then saw the monk going from house to house chanting and praying for people in exchange for some leftovers.
The cat demon followed the monk while secretly sneering at him. One time, the cat demon suddenly had an impulse and used its own strength to trip the monk who was returning home. The monk fell heavily to the ground, and the leftovers in the bowl spilled out.
The cat demon originally thought that the monk would be so angry that he would curse, because this was his daily ration. It had never seen the monk angry before, so it was quite surprised.
But what was unexpected was that the monk just sighed, slowly knelt on the ground, gently picked up the cold rice and put it back into the bowl.
The cat demon suddenly discovered that the monk was crying.
It's so useless! It's just a cold meal! I'm crying already! It's so useless!
The cat demon stomped his feet in anger, and at the same time, a sense of guilt rose in his heart.
That day, the monk returned to the temple. He took out the small bowl that was specially used to feed the cat demon and divided the clean rice that had not been contaminated into the cat demon's bowl. He then ate the rice that he had picked up from the mud with relish, accompanied by dirt and gravel.
The cat demon would never eat anything given by the monk. It could hunt on its own, eat meat and drink blood, so why would it eat these leftovers?
But this time, it said nothing, slowly walked to the broken bowl and started eating.
Not tasty, unpalatable, tasteless.
Although it kept cursing in its heart, it did not stop. The man and the cat sat in front of the Buddha statue, took a few bites and looked at each other. The cat demon found that there were traces of tears in the corners of the monk's eyes, but it was more of a relief after seeing that he had eaten.
From that day on, the cat demon stopped hunting, but it became increasingly difficult for the monk to beg for alms.
The war became more and more intense, and even travelers passing by would occasionally say that a change of dynasty was coming, and the new king would grant amnesty to the world upon ascending the throne. When that time came, a prosperous era would arrive and the people would live and work in peace and contentment.
The monk simply bowed his head slightly and offered his blessing to the traveler.
He saw no peace and prosperity, only more and more corpses lying all over the ground.
Amidst the flames of war, there was nowhere to sleep. The villages near the ruined temple were affected one after another. The cat demon could not tell whether those people were soldiers or bandits. They robbed and committed all kinds of evil. If it were not for the fact that this ruined temple was so shabby, I am afraid this place would not have escaped their clutches either.
The monk can no longer make any connections.
But he still goes out every day to pray for those nameless corpses.
The cat demon still followed him, but now it was not to play a prank, but to make sure that the idiot monk could still return to the temple.
A large-scale battle broke out nearby. The shouts and roars lasted for five days and five nights. Even the cat demon was frightened by the murderous aura and huddled in the monk's arms, trembling.
But the monk seemed unaffected by any external force and continued to chant Buddhist scriptures. However, he no longer had the rosary in his hand, as it had long been taken away by the soldiers and bandits. Even his bowl was broken. He seemed to have not eaten for two days, and his already thin body looked even more depressed.
He seemed to have aged ten years in the past six months.
The next day, the war subsided and the monk left the temple with the bamboo hat. The cat demon was a little uneasy. After all, in such a large-scale battlefield, even if the war was about to end, the evil spirit filled with the breath of death and killing still shrouded the messy wreckage like a haze, and it could not dissipate for a long time.
The monk came to the battlefield and faced the tragic scene. He did not say a word, but just sighed silently. Then he knelt down beside the unknown martyrs and chanted scriptures in his mouth, hoping to pray for them and lead their souls out of suffering.
The white cat accompanying him seemed quite nervous at first, but as time went on, the nervousness was gradually replaced by boredom. It curled up lazily on the old monk's shoulder and gradually fell asleep.
However, at this moment, the white cat seemed to sense something unusual, suddenly woke up, and opened its eyes wide.
It was shocked to find that the bodies of the soldiers who were supposed to be sleeping in eternal sleep were actually standing up at this moment - no, it was not the resurrection of the flesh, but their souls broke free from the silent bodies and appeared like ghosts.
These ghosts each showed a different state. Some looked confused and helpless, some cried in grief, some roared in anger, and some were full of fear.
As the old monk chanted, a calming force quietly spread, gradually soothing the emotions of some of the living souls. They slowly knelt on the ground, their figures gradually fading until they disappeared. All of this seemed particularly shocking and solemn in the silent battlefield.
But the monk seemed unable to see those living souls. He just prayed for these tragic people.
So of course he couldn't see the scene that made the cat demon tremble all over.
Under the gaze of the cat demon, the struggling and wandering souls not far away are facing another doomsday.
The ragged, blood-soaked girl picked up a long sword from somewhere. Every time she walked past a soul, she would swing the sword to cut off its soul. Then, these souls would wail like kites with broken strings and turn into dust.
She had no mercy on those souls. Taking them seemed to be part of her survival instinct, natural and as common as three meals a day and drinking water.
In a flash, her stern figure appeared next to the monk and the cat demon.
She lowered her head slightly, her gaze falling on the monk who was still chanting with his eyes closed, and the shivering cat demon who was clinging tightly to the monk's shoulder.
There was no expression on her face, and her pupils seemed to be blind to everything in the world. Finally, she said in a hoarse voice, "The time... has not come yet."
After saying that, she did not linger for long, but walked straight around the monk and headed towards the souls behind him waiting to be harvested.
"...The time...is not yet."
Then he walked around the monk and went to the other souls behind him.
When the cat demon saw this scene, his whole body trembled more violently, like a leaf in the cold wind.
It couldn't help but shudder as it pondered who that woman was. She wasn't human, nor did she resemble a demon. Furthermore, she didn't feel like a living entity.
The existence of that woman seemed to have come into the world to reap the souls of dying lives. From the day she was born, she was destined to play this ruthless role.
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