Xiao Nanhui's gaze quickly swept across the murals. Because her mind was on Chen Shi'an who disappeared at the entrance of the cave, she had no intention of taking a closer look at what was depicted in the murals. But just as she was about to look away, something caught her eye.
It was a huge mural that almost occupied half of the stone wall. Most of the painting was covered by red flames. There seemed to be countless heads crowded in the flames. In the center of the flames stood a man with his arms stretched out and his hands open. Although he was wearing a monk's robe, his face was extremely hideous and hateful.
But these were not the reasons that made her stop. She was concerned about the thing on the ugly monk's left wrist.
Although most Buddhist beads in the world are similar, she felt that this string of beads looked very familiar. Perhaps it was because of the different sizes of the beads, or because of the rare and unique color...
"The person in the painting might be my master Wushan."
Xiao Nanhui looked up in surprise and found that the man was also looking at the mural.
"Is your master really born like this?"
Su Wei pondered for a while, as if recalling the past.
"When I became his disciple, he was already an octogenarian, but he definitely didn't look like the one in the painting. I guess the person who painted this picture had some prejudice against him."
This is more than just a prejudice; it must be an irreconcilable hatred that would lead to painting a monk in this manner.
A strong premonition came to her mind, but in the end it made her feel regretful.
"Since he is the one in this painting, I think he knows a lot of the Shen family's secrets. It's a pity that he is no longer here, and no one knows the secrets in this painting anymore."
"I don't think no one knows about this," someone said in a voice as cold as the bottom of the valley. "After all, the amount of money donated over the years has made the monks guarding this impoverished mountain and remote area learn to lie."
******************
In the main hall of Yongye Temple, in front of 9,999 butter lamps.
The young host sneezed violently and then sniffed.
It's strange. It's midsummer now, and the night chill should have long passed, but why do I feel a little cold on the back of my neck?
He glanced at the half-lit oil lamp in front of him and felt that his robes were getting heavier and heavier, and his wrist holding the oil bowl was getting more and more sore.
He cleared his throat.
"Candlefish?"
No one responded outside the hall.
Yikong glanced at the sky outside the hall. It was just past the hour of You, and his lazy disciple was sleeping earlier and earlier.
After calming himself down, he cleared his throat again.
"Ping'er?"
There was still no response outside the hall.
Yikong stared at the wooden fish in front of him, picked up the small gold-covered copper hammer beside him and knocked it three times.
"Treasure umbrella!"
After a while, a little monk, who was neither tall nor tall and as thin as an umbrella handle, appeared in front of the temple door staggering.
"Master, what's wrong?"
Yikong took a deep breath, regained his composure, and continued to fiddle with the oil lamp in a pretentious manner.
"I just heard someone ringing a bell at the mountain gate. Have you sent someone to check?"
Baoshan was twisting and turning in front of the palace gate, holding onto the waistband of his ill-fitting trousers with one hand and picking up his half-pulled-off shoes with the other.
"Well, it seems that Zhuyu went to see it, but he hasn't come back yet."
As soon as he reached out to add oil to the lamp, his hand paused.
"How long have you been gone?"
"No, less than half an hour."
A breeze blew by, and the oil lamp that had just been lit suddenly went out.
After rubbing his fingers, Yikong picked up his robe and stood up.
"I just remembered that today seems to be the Buddha's birthday of Huchel Ancient Buddha."
Huchel Ancient Buddha? What kind of Buddha is that? Why have I never heard of it?
The young monk scratched his head secretly, worried that the abbot would see through his ignorance, but the abbot spoke again.
"Let's stop the evening class tonight. Go and gather everyone to the main hall to keep watch. Keep the hall doors locked and don't leave until daybreak."
Baoshan's face fell, obviously feeling that the punishment was too severe.
"Master, I, I feel..."
Yikong walked a few steps closer to him and suddenly reached out and knocked on the little monk's head. No more, no less, three times.
"Go quickly."
Baoshan was stunned for a moment, and stopped talking. He clasped his hands together in agreement, turned around and ran away, looking much more agile than when he came.
In the kitchen two or three courtyards behind the main hall, another figure was moving stealthily along the wall.
Hao Bai had three pancakes in his arms and four or five eggs in his lapel. He walked briskly and his face was full of joy of harvest.
He was well versed in the art of sneaking into enemy territory. Back then, he had spent two or three months in the bandit den in Bijiang, stealing countless eggs and fleecing countless sheep. How could a mere temple in the wilderness stop him?
After turning three or four times and leaving the backyard where the firewood was piled, he went straight to the Sutra Library. The thought of being able to bake a few fresh omelets to eat happily made his lips and tongue water, which was so wonderful.
However, as soon as he stepped into the palace, he realized something was wrong.
Although the place where he worked was messy, he always remembered clearly where things were placed, and it should not be in this state.
There was a sound of rummaging through drawers in the hall, without any concealment, revealing a sense of impatience and eagerness.
The candle in the hall was only half lit when he left, and now it has gone out. He could only light an oil lamp and look forward.
This time, he saw clearly the thin, narrow, soft sword worn on the man's waist, which looked particularly familiar.
However, his eyes, which had been studying herbal books in the dark for a long time, were now a little blurry, and he really didn't dare to confirm what he saw.
"Lieutenant Deer?"
He called out tentatively, and the man stopped moving but did not turn around.
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