The second newly promoted ninth level to be killed is not somewhere else, but living in the Potala Palace. ?. .

"I have no money." This was the second sentence Bai Qi said to Feng Wuyou. When he said this, Bai Qi did not show any emotional fluctuation. Bai Qi, who had been living at the bottom of society as a beggar and vagrant, really did not have any savings. Of course, to Bai Qi, money was like clouds.

Yun Luo was no better than Bai Qi, wearing a blue-striped monkey mask on his face, using telekinesis to silently make everyone who saw Yun Luo not feel strange, but automatically imagine a boy with ordinary appearance in their mind. Such a Yun Luo, naturally, could not bring Yun Luo's ID card and bank card, and there were only a few hundred yuan in his pocket.

In the end, he still used telekinesis to cover up the handsome Feng Wuyou, took out a genuine ID card, and checked into the hotel. Feng Wuyou also paid with a bank card. To be honest, all the expenses along the way were paid by Feng Wuyou. Anyway, Bai Qi and Yun Luo were called by Feng Wuyou to kill people. Risking their lives, spending some money is nothing.

Yunluo, Feng Wuyou and Baiqi came to Buddha City to check out the location and prepare to kill the ninth-level evolver. Yunluo was not amazed when he saw the Potala Palace for the first time, and was even a little disappointed. But the palace in front of him was an independent entity, and the hills under its feet seemed like an isolated island, floating in a seemingly ordinary town. Ordinary town. Such an impression at first glance may be unfair to many people who regard Buddha City as an ideal or holy place.

When I took the bus from the airport to the small city, besides the Potala Palace and the White Pagoda, I was curious about the straight streets, squares, fountains, supermarkets, and crowded clothing stores on both sides of the street. Isn't this a replica of an inland city?

Many cities look similar, especially those newly built ones. Without the erosion of history, stories and legends, the new houses are neatly arranged, with the same street trees, the same floor tiles, and no moss-covered stone slabs. It is boring.

But the Buddhist city should be different. In addition to the blue sky and white clouds unique to the plateau, its charm should not be just the blue sky and white clouds. After moving into the four-person room of Pingcuo Inn. The question mark in my heart has not been eliminated, but my mood is inexplicably good. The first time I saw the walls of the inn were covered with graffiti, describing the mood of people on the journey. When Yunluo stood in the small four-person room and saw the graffiti left by the travel friends on the wall, I suddenly didn't feel lonely. Yunluo didn't come to the Buddhist city alone. There were countless people like Yunluo in front, and there will be more behind, but they came and left, and they were not disappointed. In their graffiti, Yunluo saw joy, emotion, and passion.

Walking in the city of Buddha, a lonely person will soon no longer be lonely.

Buddha City is the capital of Tibet. The Tibetans on the street are a natural sight. They come and go in one-shoulder robes or long skirts, with a leisurely and calm gait. Perhaps Yunluo is an outsider and cannot communicate directly with the Tibetans. During the two days in Buddha City, he could only appreciate the Tibetans as scenery.

People worshipping outside the Potala Palace and turning the prayer wheel outside the Jokhang Temple, they all look focused, like purple or royal blue clothes, and tirelessly turn the prayer wheel in their hands. In Yunluo's eyes, they are a group of characters in oil paintings, men, women, young and old, with rich colors. While appreciating this folk painting, he is like an audience, and the people he meets are also audiences, outsiders from all corners of the country.

Xixi said that people in Focheng are more direct. To be more precise, the people she was talking about are people from outside Focheng. Is it the sunshine in Focheng that makes outsiders more direct? Do they become more reckless?

Even if you fall in love at first sight, the haziness and beauty of the trial phase are omitted. Another possibility is that the scarcity of oxygen in the plateau causes people's brains to short-circuit, their language expression ability to weaken, and they become dull, unable to judge whether others are also in love with them, so they become direct and even rash.

The native Tibetan compatriots also expressed their love and feelings very directly, but they expressed it beautifully, as evidenced by their songs. The road where the girl walked was filled with the singing of birds and the fragrance of flowers.

Tibetans like to praise girls, as passionate and unrestrained as the Book of Songs or Han Dynasty Yuefu poems. The scarcity of oxygen does not hinder them. They love beauty, whether it is Zhuoma or Lhamo, girls are fairies and symbols of beauty in their eyes. And this land is their hometown, so their passion and unrestrainedness are so natural.

As for the outsiders, those who came to chat with people while sunbathing outside the Jokhang Temple, they also wanted to learn the enthusiasm of the Tibetans, but their learning was not very good. Birds would sing and dance to please their targets, but they went straight to the point and ended up hitting a snag with Xixi.

However, in Focheng, such behavior is not unforgivable. Perhaps it is loneliness that makes people dizzy and crazy. Yes, when you appreciate the scrolls of pictures of customs, when you walk alone on the street, novel things fascinate people, and various handicrafts dazzle people.

At this time, I always hope that someone will appreciate it hand in hand with you, and someone will discuss the handicrafts with you. Isn't that the icing on the cake? There are people from all over the world coming to the Buddhist city. You will not be lonely soon. It is not the people who are bored or bored in the Jokhang Square, but people who like to travel and like new and beautiful things. When Yunluo came to the Buddhist city, he met all kinds of interesting people.

Some people like to talk a lot. To listen to them, you only need an ear to listen and an expression of surprise. You don't need two ears, because what they say is sometimes too magical, and you can't tell whether it's true or not, so you have to listen with one ear and let it out with the other. Maybe they really have a Porsche and a BMW at home, or maybe their sheepdog really has won two championships.

Maybe they really don't have to work, and can spend most of the year traveling around the world's famous mountains and rivers;? So what if it's fake, Yunluo admires their good eloquence and generous self-confidence, Don Quixote still has to fight against windmills,

The man Yunluo met was not a knight, or a kind-hearted man, but he was a man of his own, and he treated chatting as a career, and his state of mind, as if he was indifferent to others, was truly admirable.

The sunshine in the Buddhist city can make people dizzy and thick-skinned; it can also make people pure or keep them pure.

Ancient people have long learned from experience that oranges are oranges in the south of the Huai River and are tangerines in the north of the Huai River. When arriving in the Buddhist city, most people will become sweet oranges, while only a few will become tangerines that are too sour to eat. The sun is bright, the sky is blue, and the clouds are white. Let Bai Qi, Feng Wuyou, and Yun Luo fall on the square of the Jokhang Temple and become a lazy orange.

…

If you haven’t been to the Buddha City, you don’t know Tsangyang Gyatso.

Yunluo had always thought that he was just a poet. A long time ago, he saw his famous poem "That Life" somewhere. At that time, he thought that this poem was so emotional and simple in language. Only a person with a pure heart and sincere feelings could write it. When he arrived in the Buddhist city, Yunluo learned from the tour guide's description that Cangyang Gyatso was not only a poet, but also a monk.

Although he lived in the palace, he yearned for worldly life, but reality did not allow him to switch freely between the two roles. If he could choose freely, the three secular people would rather he choose to be a wandering poet, so that he could live with his Maji Ami as he wished. Forced to separate, his poems became more melancholy, perhaps because of the deep pain and deeper love.

It is better to listen to his poems than to read them, because there is a kind of rhythm floating between the lines, like a song.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

That night, I listened to the chanting of the Buddha all night, not for enlightenment, but just to find a trace of your breath. That month, I turned all the prayer wheels, not for salvation, but just to touch your fingerprints. That year, I kowtowed and embraced the dust, not for worshiping Buddha, but just to feel your warmth. In that life, I climbed over 100,000 mountains, not for the next life, but just to protect your peace and happiness.'

Having such deep affection can be said to be a kind of transcendence, and this is also the difference between the wise him and mortals. Mortals pursue to be together day and night, to share the joys and sorrows, but the poet would rather live in purgatory for his girl than let his girl be happy and at peace.

Especially the last sentence, he does not even want to cultivate for his afterlife. This is a shocking rebellion not only for eminent monks but also for ordinary Tibetans.

You know, from the Potala Palace, following the worshippers around the palaces and pagodas, entering and leaving the Jokhang Temple in a line, to the people turning the prayer wheels on the Barkhor Street early in the morning, there are little kids who can't walk steadily, and there are also 80-year-old men who walk with a stagger. They are so focused and so pious, what are they seeking? The afterlife.

From Potala Palace to Jokhang Temple and then to Sera Monastery, in addition to the Tara, the incarnation of Guanyin familiar to the Han people, the most commonly mentioned name is Jampa Buddha, also known as Maitreya Buddha in the mainland. In the temples in the mainland, he is a big-bellied Buddha with a smiling face welcoming guests. In Tibet, his name became Jampa Buddha, and he is in charge of the afterlife of believers.

That year, I kowtowed and embraced the dust, just to worship Buddha, just to be close to your warmth. In that life, I climbed over a hundred thousand mountains, just to cultivate the next life, just to be happy and peaceful in the next life.

Slightly changing the poem by Cangyang Gyatso, it happens to be the voice of those faithful believers facing Jampa Buddha. And Cangyang Gyatso, braving the world's great disobedience, with the same pious and focused heart, in his mind, his afterlife is not as good as meeting and staying with Maji Ami in this life.)