"Ah! Master!...It hurts!" A cry of pain came out. Swallowing Novels www.

The little lama covered his face with his hands, while shouting and rolling rapidly on the ground.

The old lama struggled to stand up, but as soon as he straightened up, he collapsed weakly again. I quickly stepped forward, helped him, and came to the side of the little lama.

The old lama sat cross-legged next to him, stretched out his skinny hands and gently stroked his short-haired head. His expression showed love, regret, and grief, and finally turned into a sigh.

"Poor child, may you reach bliss soon, with no pain, no more sadness, only eternal peace."

After saying this, the old lama closed his eyes tightly and muttered something in his mouth, as if he was chanting some scripture.

I couldn't understand the old lama's behavior, so I stepped forward and pulled away the young lama's hands that were covering his face, hoping to stop the bleeding first.

When the little lama's face really appeared in front of me, I turned pale with horror, subconsciously stepped back, and almost sat down on the ground.

At this time, his face was not just a simple trauma. It could be clearly seen that the veins were bulging high, and it looked like there were countless little mice under the skin. There were small bulges all the time.

Drilling back and forth, looking extremely horrified.

"Ah!" A high-pitched female voice screamed from behind me. It was Hellen's voice. I think she saw the terrifying shape on the child's face just like me.

No wonder the old lama only focused on chanting sutras instead of treating his apprentice's injuries. A discerning person would know at a glance that such an injury was incurable. The only thing that could be done was to end the injured person's pain as soon as possible.

There are obviously some terrible parasites living in his body. Those parasites develop at an alarming rate. Just now they were just small packets the size of soybeans, but now they look like they are the size of peanuts.

The little lama's consciousness gradually became unclear. His eyes were wide open, bulging, and his pupils seemed to be a little dilated. But he was not dead yet. It could be seen from his twitching hands and feet that he was in boundless pain.

Still tormenting him non-stop.

I turned around, unable to bear to look any further, but met the old lama's eyes, which were full of deep pleading.

The old lama didn't want his apprentice to suffer like this again, and he couldn't bear to do it himself, so he could only use his silent eyes to beg me to end the little lama's pain and let him reach bliss as soon as possible.

I nodded slightly, leaned over and pulled out the military thorn from the boot, and tremblingly stretched it to the little lama's heart.

He seemed to feel the approach of death, and his mind seemed to become clearer. I saw his head tilted slightly toward me, looking at me silently, and there seemed to be a hint of gratitude in his eyes.

"There is a beautiful place that people yearn for.

There are evergreens all year round, and the birds are singing and the flowers are fragrant;

There is no pain there, no sorrow there.

Her name is Shambhala, and legend has it that it is the place where gods live.

Shambhala is not far away, it is our hometown!"

The little lama's purple lips trembled slightly as he sang the song inaudibly. The longing in his eyes actually overshadowed the pain. For a moment, his face didn't seem so scary anymore, but more...

A divine flavor.

“There are evergreens all year round, where the birds are singing and the flowers are fragrant;

There is no pain there, no sorrow there."

Is this what you expected? Well, trust me, you'll be pain-free soon.

As soon as he closed his eyes, the sharp military thorns passed through his clothes without any hindrance, tore his flesh, rubbed his ribs, and pierced his heart...

After a sharp convulsion, all the pain left him. Little Lama, have you reached the "place where the gods live"?

The tears slowly slid down the cheeks and turned into a crystal drop of water, dripping towards the ground; the military thorn was gently pulled out, and a stream of blood droplets splashed down; the teardrops and blood droplets collided and mixed in the air, and finally

They were mixed together and mixed into the soil under their feet, no longer distinguishable from each other.

As if he could feel the passing of the little lama's life, the parasites in his body couldn't wait to break out. The bloody holes on his chest and the seven orifices on his face all contained white silkworm chrysalis-like larvae that stubbornly came out.

"These are the larvae of the Blood Bat Moth. If someone is bitten by the Blood Bat Moth, he will wail for three days and three nights before dying. At that time, the Blood Bat Moth larvae in his body will

When mature, it can fly as soon as it leaves the body."

"Burn him!" The old lama sighed and fell silent.

We silently took out the gasoline we had brought, sprinkled it on the little lama's body, and lit it on fire.

In the raging flames, the young lama and the blood bat larvae in his body were burned to coke. When the fire burned, the old lama took out a prayer wheel from his arms and kept chanting scriptures for him.

The deceased disciple prayed that he could truly reach the paradise in his heart.

"The Great White Umbrella General Holds Dharani Sutra." Hu Bayi murmured as soon as the old lama's chanting sounded.

At that time, I did not ask him how he knew the name of this sutra. At that time, I was following the old lama's chanting, silently begging to the gods and Buddhas, hoping that this little lama would never have to endure pain again.

, was guided by the Buddha, and could live happily in the distant Shambhala.

Much later, I accidentally talked about this matter with Hu Bayi, and he told me that more than 10 years ago, there was also such a lama who, right in front of him, recited "The Great White Umbrella Canopy Master" for a stranger.

He read the Dharani Sutra for a whole night and made a great wish that if that person could wake up safely, he would swim in the lake until he died.

Since then, I have been full of respect for all lamas. Maybe not every one of them is so great, but there are indeed people among them who are so great. This is what we have seen with our own eyes.

The old lama recited the scriptures three times before he stood up with difficulty, put the prayer wheel in his hand into his apprentice's burned arms, and tightened his armpits...

The young lama's body and the prayer wheel were finally buried by the lake next to the temple. No trees were sealed, and only the crystal tears shed by the old lama during the burial proved his existence.

"There is a beautiful place that people yearn for.

There are evergreens all year round, and the birds are singing and the flowers are fragrant;

There is no pain there, no sorrow there.

Her name is Shambhala, and legend has it that it is the place where gods live.

Shambhala is not far away, it is our hometown!"

"He became my disciple when he was very young. What he liked most was listening to me recite the Kalachakra Sutra and this song, its name is "Shambhala is not far away."
Chapter completed!