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048 Once upon a time there was a mountain, and there was a temple on the mountain

Lu An prides himself on being a good person.

No one has been able to hurt the master in these years, and those who could have hurt him have all gone away. The master's anger can only be extinguished by blood. It doesn't matter whose blood is used, as long as it is not your own blood!

"Stop!" Lin Zhi raised his eyes to look at him, the depths of his phoenix eyes seemed as dark as the dark night: "Send Mr. Liu back to the carriage behind, and Su Wen will follow quickly."

"That's all." His voice only faltered, and then he continued: "Tell Su Wen to come here to treat her... and take a look at the princess by the way."

"Where are the hostages captured on the mountain?" Lu An blinked. He and Ying Yi came over just now to ask for advice on this matter.

Lin Zhiqian pursed her lips, and the air around her body became cold. The blood-soaked black clothes rustled in the night wind, like black silk threads flying in the wind. In the moonlight, she looked as beautiful as a demon, but also as cold as a devil.

.

That man is a bloodthirsty demon in the endless hell!

"There's no need to stay, hurry back to the mountains. This mountain..." He narrowed his eyes slightly, with a little disgust in his eyes: "Burn it."

Lu An's body trembled.

They set fire to the mountains and left no grass behind, let alone people. Since then, no one has been able to tell the story of what happened on this mountain top.

Lu An bowed and said yes in a low voice, holding onto Yingyi to convey the order, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief in the night.

The half-moon nightmare is finally over, and the real master...is back!



"Master!"

There is a mountain not very far from here. There is a temple on the mountain. In the temple there is an old monk and...a group of guests.

The old monk was boiling water to make tea for the guests. The boiling water was poured into the coarse porcelain bowl, and the dark brown tea leaves were swirling in the water. The door of the Zen room was pushed open with a bang.

A tall, stout man in black broke in through the door, unable to hide the anxiety on his face.

"Sir, there's a fire over there! Our people are also..."

In the Zen room, a man in rich attire had his back to the door. He slowly raised a finger and stopped the strong man's words. The next moment, a man's voice, as melodious as a piano, was heard.

"Master, the Diamond Sutra says that everything is like a dream, and life is nothing more than a mirror. If this is the case, why do you still urge people to study Buddhism and let go of their obsessions? If you force people to let go of their obsessions, aren't you also guilty of obsessions?"

The old monk looked at the tea in the cup and gradually took on a light brown color like honey. Then he put the lid on the cup and held the cup in front of the man: "Master, do you think this tea tastes good?"

The man opened the lid of the cup, took a quick look, sipped his mouth slightly, and then curled his lips and said, "It's okay."

Lao He did not answer, but turned around and took another can of tea leaves and brewed tea again. This time, he handed it to the strong man in black: "This benefactor, come and try it. How does this tea taste?"

The strong man had no intention of sipping the tea. He frowned and looked at his master. The man in fine clothes nodded almost invisible to him, and then he took a sip and drank it all. But he said: "What the hell? It tastes terrible!"

The old monk smiled: "Young Master thinks the tea is good, but the donor thinks it's not good. In fact, the two cups of tea use the same kind of tea leaves and the same kind of water."

As soon as these words came out, the strong man in black immediately turned red, and there was unconcealable fear in his eyes. His eyes were scarlet, and he pointed at the old monk and said angrily: "You bald donkey, why did you harm me? Master, I am wrong.

, this tea is very delicious. Master, please forgive me!"

As he spoke, he swung his bow from left to right and slapped his cheek hard. The crisp slap echoed in the quiet Zen room, eerily clear.


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