"Stay? Or go down the mountain?" This was the first time he had considered this question. "I... I don't know."
"You can stay! I'll give you chicken legs later."
He didn't know why, but he actually believed Zhiyin's nonsense, and he naturally became Zhiyin's junior brother.
Later he realized that monks cannot eat meat, so he couldn't have chicken legs.
"Let me tell you something. You'll always have something to use when you don't know what to do in the future, and they'll say you have some wisdom."
"Wh-what did you say?" Zhiyin had always been considered the one with the greatest wisdom, while he had always been disliked.
"Amitabha Buddha, excellent, excellent!"
"What did you say?"
"Amitabha Buddha, excellent, excellent!"
"What are you saying, Senior Brother? What is it?"
"Amitabha, well done, well done!" Zhiyin looked at him with exasperation. "Master asked me to give you a Dharma name, but you're such a fool. I think you should be called Zhilin!"
After saying that, Zhiyin stormed off, and for some reason, he felt a pang of heartache at that moment.
It seemed as if he had forgotten something more important.
"Amitabha, well done, well done!" He imitated Zhiyin by hanging the bracelet on his wrist, straightening his back, and strolling through the sect.
The ground was covered with pale yellow ginkgo leaves, which rustled underfoot.
Alone, bathed in moonlight, he followed the ginkgo leaves as he walked forward.
When he could no longer walk, he looked up and saw an ancient ginkgo tree, as thick as a well opening, which looked eerily beautiful under the moonlight.
A person is hanging from the tree.
That person was none other than himself.
Zhiyin still looked like he did when he was a child. He walked up to him with a pot of wine and said, "Would you like to drink this? Drinking this will help you forget about this place."
"Where is this?" he heard himself ask.
“This is you, and this is me.” Zhiyin reached out and touched his head. “Because your senior brother forgot, you have suffered.”
"Senior brother..." He felt a sharp pain as the wine cup in Zhiyin's hand was now in his. He didn't know what he was feeling as he drank the wine. "Why... why was I chosen, chosen as Master's disciple, to suffer like this?"
"Zhilin." Zhiyin's fingertip touched his brow, and a warm current flowed into his heart. "You need to forget about this place. It was your fault, senior brother. From now on, senior brother will suffer alone."
"I don't want to." He pushed Zhilin away, pointed to himself in the tree, his mind increasingly muddled from the alcohol. "Senior brother, am I...am I going to die?"
"Amitabha, well said." Zhiyin looked at him in the tree, smiled and sighed, his face showing a maturity beyond his years. "Zhilin, you can only live if you forget."
"Then why does Senior Brother still remember?" He seemed to recall that his trial was under this tree, he was possessed by an evil spirit, and eventually died.
But why is he still alive?
"One person can bear all the suffering in this world." He looked at the ginkgo tree, as if saying to it, "From now on, you will be free from sorrow and joy. Your senior brother can ask the gods."
"God?" He was surprised and looked at the ginkgo tree again.
Yes, the Tantric Buddhist sect does not have ginkgo trees, nor does it have a well like this.
He stood by the well, the bottom of which was unseen. "Senior brother, if I jump in, will I wake up?"
"Yes, forget this place, forget the past, just be yourself."
"Amitabha Buddha, well said, well said."
"Will my senior brother go back?"
"Yes." Zhiyin gave him a push. "Zhilin, you will grow up one day, and we will leave you one by one."
It felt like someone had patted his shoulder, and the Buddha of Compassion and Joy felt a chill run down his spine. He murmured, "Amitabha, well done, well done."
It seemed that only this sentence could put his mind at ease.
"I recognize you." It was none other than Ling Yi who stepped forward. "Want to know what the tree in your dream was?"
The Buddha of Sorrow and Joy was taken aback.
He knew in his heart that everything in the dream was real, but now that he had just woken up, the dream was fading away, and he could hardly remember what the tree looked like anymore.
"That tree is the one that God loves most."
"god?"
“Hmm.” Ling Yi nodded. “Before I was captured by the Holy Son, I was still the God of Fortune, but I was a fake.”
The Compassionate and Joyful Buddha: ...
“The real god…” He looked meaningfully into the room, “I suspect it is my master. Or perhaps, that god has many other names, the most common of which should be the God of Fortune, because the temple is very dilapidated, but no one dares to repair it, so I sit on the offering table in the temple and eat the incense they bring.”
The Buddha of Compassion and Joy felt a surge of tension. From the moment Wen Jinge brought the child with her, he had noticed that the child was not normal.
Whenever he got close to the child, he could always sense a familiar presence. But what could it be?
He pondered, "You, are you that tree?"
“No.” He shook his head. After all, he was still a child and he was also very confused. “I used to think that being able to see the future was the power of God. Later, I found that I had no ability to resist when facing danger. At that time, I realized that I was just a god they pushed up.”
The Buddha of Compassion and Joy did not understand what the child had gone through, but judging from the banquet of a hundred ghosts, his past life must have been even more bitter than he had imagined.
“Until I met my master, I believed that there were gods in this world, and I saw that my master had taken more lives than I had imagined. At that time, I thought it was the future.”
He pursed his lips, looked at the starry sky, then at the Buddha of Compassion and Joy, "You're following your master because you have something to ask of him, right?"
The Buddha of Sorrow and Joy paused, puzzled as to why the child's thoughts had wandered off again, and could only reply, "It's not the right time."
"Oh." The child nodded nonchalantly. "I can also see the past. Master is a person without a future."
This statement was somewhat blasphemous, and the Buddha of Sorrow and Joy suddenly understood why this kid had come to him for a heart-to-heart talk.
"She only has the past."
"So, I had that dream because of you?"
"No, it's because of my Senior Brother Yang." Ling Yi shook his head in distress, glaring resentfully at the house behind him: "I woke up because of him. He was asleep, and the curses of those Soul Clan members came out. The house was too noisy, so I wanted to come out for some fresh air."
"..." The Compassionate and Joyful Buddha: "Amitabha, excellent, excellent!"
He really didn't know how to respond.
Master Wen's disciples are all incredibly powerful, either with extraordinary backgrounds or extraordinary abilities. How could he possibly answer?
"So..." he smiled bitterly.
"If you sleep outside, it will have less of an impact, so you can come with me."
"Leave?" He suddenly realized something. He looked behind him and saw that the door was tightly closed. Ling Yi was carefully closing the door, as if afraid of waking the people inside.
"That's right!" Ling Yi in front of me transformed into a huge ginkgo leaf. "You remember now!"
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