Western Mountains, the peaks are undulating, and the eyes are full of green.
Eastern Capital It rained heavily last night, and it gradually stopped and cleared up in the morning.
The weather hasn't cooled down for long, and the scorching sun in midsummer is baking the wet Mountain Forest.
The water vapor accumulated by the vegetation was evaporated and turned into large clouds and mist, billowing and dispersing among the peaks.
The water stains on the stone-paved hiking trail have not yet dried.
Water drops were still dripping from time to time among the branches and leaves of the towering ancient trees on both sides.
Fang Cheng and Cheng Jiashu walked side by side, walking slowly on the steps.
The tourists around me were in twos and threes, most of them carrying hiking poles, walking around and wearing rough clothes.
Relatively speaking, the two seemed to be walking casually, but their pace was extremely brisk.
Even if I continuously cross a steep hillside section, it still feels like walking on flat ground, and even my breathing rhythm has not changed at all.
It was as if I was walking in my own garden, and I unknowingly left the panting tourists behind.
"I said, are you really not afraid of getting prickly heat when you are wrapped up like this on a hot day?"
Fang Cheng turned his head, looked at his companion beside him, and joked casually.
Cheng Jiashu wore a black loose long-sleeved jacket today and Duckbill Cap on his head.
There was also a pair of wide toad mirrors on his face, which completely covered his highly recognizable face.
"If I dared to dress like you, there would have been a series of stampedes on this mountain road today, believe it or not?"
Cheng Jiashu looked at Fang Cheng, who was wearing cool short-sleeved clothes Track Pants, with a tone of helplessness, but also seemed confident.
Fang Cheng was speechless at the extent of his narcissism and stopped teasing him.
My eyes swept over the moss-mottled stone Buddha statues on the cliffs along the way, and I felt a little touched in my heart.
In the early morning of the day before yesterday, in the Mental Secret Realm, the two of them agreed to come to the Western Mountains to find Zen Master Huiming from Lone Peak Temple to see if they could solve the mystery of the ghosts who appeared in Inner Scenery World.
We both happened to be free today, so we made an appointment to come over to climb the mountain and try our luck.
Western Mountains, has been the holy land of Buddhist since ancient times.
The mountains here are steep and the altitude is quite high. It is a rare large mountain range in the eastern coastal areas of Xia Country.
According to legend, this place is also the fundamental dojo of Manjushri, with its ancestral home having the same source of sutras and secrets, and a spiritual vein that lasts for thousands of years.
As early as the early days of the Yu Dynasty, there was a Western Regions Revered One who came from the east to spread Buddhism.
He performed incredible miracles in public in the court, which shocked the civil and military officials of the court. He was conferred the title of Imperial Master and Mahayana Dharma King by the founding emperor at that time, and was in charge of all Zen Buddhist sects in the world.
The place where Revered One finally passed away was the original address of Lone Peak Temple deep inside the Western Mountains.
Therefore, for more than two thousand years, Lone Peak Temple has been a holy place respected by the Exoteric Sect and Esoteric Sect.
Both Han Lands Zen monks and Mongolian and Tibetan Tantric practitioners regard this pilgrimage as an extremely important part of their practice.
Dozens of temples, large and small, were also built in the surrounding peaks and foothills.
Hula--
A mountain breeze with the fragrance of rosin blew past my cheeks, bringing a refreshing feeling.
Fang Cheng took back his thoughts and looked into the depths of Mountain Forest shrouded in clouds and mist.
Several cornices and raised corners are dotted among the pines and mist.
Faintly, the ethereal bells can be heard echoing leisurely.
"Speaking of which, the original site of Lone Peak Temple has long been burned to rubble, right?"
Fang Cheng took a deep breath and asked casually.
"Hmm."
Cheng Jiashu raised his hand to push the sliding Sunglasses, and twitched the corner of his mouth with a hint of mockery:
"Historical books say that Lone Peak Temple plotted rebellion and had evil intentions. Imperial Court directly sent an army to seal off the mountain and burned the entire ancient temple to ashes."
"So the current temple was just slowly rebuilt by later generations. If it weren't for the fact that there were still a few monks who went out to travel and practice, even the inherited dharma lineage would have been cut off."
This bloody history buried in the years is just a few cold lines of text to most people.
But Fang Cheng and Cheng Jiashu know it better than anyone else.
The army commander who led the army to flatten Lone Peak Temple and slaughter all the monks in the temple was not a loyal minister who suppressed the rebellion at all.
That person is Cheng Clan Possession of a corpse's ancestor, Jiang Chen.
Imperial Court is nominally under the banner of suppressing rebellion, but it obviously has other purposes.
Today's Western Mountains is still vast and has many temples.
It's just that the large virgin forest area in the depths has long been designated as a military control area by Military and Special Search Team, and outsiders are strictly prohibited from entering.
However, the reconstructed Lone Peak Temple is located on the outer peak and is not within the blockade.
Even though today is an ordinary working day, many groups of pilgrims can still be seen along the mountain roads, which shows that the incense is flourishing.
Fang Cheng stepped on the moss-covered Stone Steps and turned a steep slope.
The terrain ahead suddenly became clear.
I saw a magnificent wooden archway standing on a wide flat land.
A gilt gold plaque with "Lone Peak Ancient Temple" written on it hangs above.
Behind the archway, palaces with yellow walls and black tiles spread out in layers according to the mountain.
The tall cornices and corners glow like fish scales under the sunlight, fully demonstrating the solemnity and simplicity of the Buddhist holy land.
Fang Cheng stopped, looked up, and couldn't help but smile:
"Jiashu, you know, after living in Eastern Capital for so many years, this is my first time coming to this place."
When Cheng Jiashu heard this, Sunglasses's eyes curved and he also smiled:
"That's because your previous life was too routine, and you were just a standard otaku."
"I advise you to go out more often and enjoy life. If you have money, you can buy a Sports Car, Yacht or something. Otherwise, if you tell anyone about it, it will greatly affect your image as a top powerhouse."
Fang Cheng shrugged and replied casually:
"I'm not like you, a celebrity idol, who needs to socialize."
"Actually, staying at home is cleaner and more comfortable. Anyway, there aren't many things outside that can arouse my interest, unless S-Class Expert comes and tries to trick me."
"Then you might as well come to Lone Peak Temple and become a monk."
Cheng Jiashu shook his head, his tone was quite helpless.
The two joked with each other for a few words, and then crossed the mountain gate guarded by two stone lions in front of them.
A burst of rich incense Aura hit my face instantly.
The square in front of the Mahavira Hall was crowded with people, and bursts of green smoke rose from several brass incense burners as tall as one person, causing people to squint their eyes slightly.
Several ancient cypress trees, Tree Canopy, which require several people to embrace, are like a cover, blocking out the harsh sun.
The humming whispers of blessings from the pilgrims, mixed with the ringing of the bells, give people a wonderful feeling of stepping from the mortal world to Buddha's Pure Land in an instant.
Cheng Jiashu was familiar with the roads here, so he led Fang Cheng to avoid the crowded main road and turn to a quiet path on one side.
Just then, a monk wearing gray cloth robes and holding a broom came towards me.
"This is Master."
Cheng Jiashu pulled Sunglasses down a little, stopped and said hello:
"Is Zen Master Huiming in the temple?"
The monk recognized Cheng Jiashu. After seeing his face clearly, he immediately put his hands together and saluted:
"Donor Cheng, the abbot is currently meeting guests at Quiet Mind Residence in the backyard. You can just go over there."
"Thank you."
The two of them walked along the corridor and towards the backyard of the temple.
The further inside, the fainter the noise in the front yard becomes.
Instead, there was the sound of wooden fish knocking and the low and long chanting sound coming from the side hall.
Passing through a dense green Bamboo Grove, a quiet independent Courtyard appeared in front.
The courtyard door was half open, and intermittent strange sounds could be vaguely heard inside.
Before he could get closer, Fang Cheng suddenly stopped in his steps and glanced forward.
I saw four people standing quietly among Courtyard. They were obviously visitors who came to see the Zen Master before them.
Three of them are dressed as monks.
Their skin is dark and rough, with a unique texture that has been exposed to wind and sun all year round.
He was wearing a dark red monk's robe that was open to the right shoulder, and a thick animal bone rosary hung around his neck.
This appearance is definitely not that of a local monk from Eastern Capital, but more like a Lama who came all the way from Snowy Plateau.
The three of them formed a dharma seal with their hands in front of their chests and stood outside the palace door like wooden stakes, turning a blind eye to everything around them.
In front of them, there was a fat man standing.
In the middle of summer, with a temperature of 30 degrees Celsius, this fat man was actually wrapped in a thick black old-fashioned leather jacket.
The whole person was like a stuffed balloon, even the flesh on his neck was squeezed into a ball.
The most eye-catching thing is that he wears a pig head mask tightly on his head.
The pink silicone material shone in the sunlight, and the pig's mouth on the mask opened slightly. As the chest rose and fell, a vague and heavy breathing sound could be heard.
The four people stood upright in the quiet Buddhist backyard, with an indescribable sense of weirdness all over their bodies.
Fang Cheng stopped and his eyes flickered slightly.
Cheng Jiashu stopped, looked over Fang Cheng's shoulders, and lowered his voice:
"You noticed it too?"
Fang Cheng nodded and stared at the half-open courtyard door ahead.
There was an extremely abnormal sense of depression in the quiet Courtyard.
A low buzzing sound seemed to reverberate in the air, making people's eardrums numb.
There was obviously no wind blowing.
The fallen leaves and fine dust on the ground were suspended in the air contrary to common sense, trembling slightly with the buzzing Crying Sound.
The whole courtyard seemed to be enveloped by some kind of power, still in the sunshine penetrating Tree Canopy.
Looking through the courtyard gate, on the Meditation Cushion in the center of the side hall, there is a thin old monk sitting cross-legged.
He clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and moved his lips quickly, reciting scriptures silently.
The four people outside the door stood motionless.
The three Lama held the seal in their hands, and the veins on their foreheads were bulging, as if there were several small snakes squirming under the skin.
Big beads of sweat kept rolling down his cheeks.
The fat man wearing the pig head mask seemed to be under the most pressure because he was standing at the front.
The black leather jacket he was wearing was completely soaked with sweat, and the sound of breathing coming through the mask was like an old bellows.
This is obviously a spiritual confrontation.
The old monk seemed calm, but compared to the four people outside the door, he was not relaxed either.
A few strands of white beard on his lower chin were trembling at a high frequency as he chanted scriptures.
Suddenly, there was a muffled "bang" sound.
The fat man's knees weakened, he stumbled back half a step, and crushed the edge of a Cement brick.
The invisible Mental Power Field instantly collapsed.
Suspended leaves and dust fell to the ground one after another.
The wind came in again, rustling the green bamboos in Courtyard.
The four of them woke up as if from a dream, breathing heavily.
The one in the middle, Lama, calmed down first and let out a cold snort:
"What a profound concentration, worthy of being the inheritor of Lone Peak Temple's Dharma lineage!"
He was wearing a large black and red monk's robe, with gold embroidery on the collar and cuffs, showing his low-key luxury.
The cheeks look thin, with sharp edges and corners, and a pair of Tortoiseshell Glassess rest on the high bridge of the nose, adding a bit of elegance.
The neatly trimmed beard on both sides of his lips gave him a sense of majesty.
"Amitabha..."
In the side hall, the old monk slowly opened his eyes, his gaze Qingming Festival:
"Several donors are too murderous and have impure roots. The confrontation between gods and wills just now has aroused greed, anger and delusion in your hearts."
"Buddhist values purity and inaction, and lives the world with compassion. If you allow your thoughts of killing to blind the Buddha's heart, you will probably destroy the foundation of your years of hard work.
"The sea of suffering is boundless, and once you turn around, you will be able to reach the shore. Please come back to the donors."
He behaves calmly and speaks with Zen meaning. He is obviously the current abbot of Lone Peak Temple, Zen Master Huiming.
The fat man wearing a pig head mask stood up straight, sneered repeatedly, stepped forward and said:
"Old monk, I'm not a Buddhist person. Don't use these high-sounding Buddhist principles to deal with me."
"If you are willing to hurry up and tell us where the entrance to the Underground Palace hidden by Lone Peak Temple is, we will leave as soon as we get the things. Otherwise, we will demolish your Quiet Mind Residence today!"
Zen Master Huiming's expression did not change and he explained calmly:
"Lone Peak Temple was destroyed by war two thousand years ago, and the Underground Palace site was expropriated by the government for archaeological excavation."
"This is just an antique Courtyard that was later rebuilt. Where did the Underground Palace come from? The rumors outside are just based on rumors. The donors are all smart people. Why should you believe such lies?"
The fat man turned his head when he heard this and looked at the Lama leader.
The two men had fierce looks in their eyes, as if they had murderous intentions.
"Since the Zen master refuses to accept the toast and refuses to eat the fine wine, then we will see the real seal in our hands."
Lama leader pulled off the animal bone rosary from his neck and wrapped it around his wrist:
"When we break your bones, I believe you will naturally be willing to reveal True Words."
As he spoke, he took a step forward and his eyes suddenly became fierce:
"You Han Lands Exoteric Sect practice mantras. No matter how strong your spiritual cultivation is, your physical body is still weak."
"Just now we competed for divine will, but we didn't get any advantage. Now let me teach you, my Black Sect supreme Guardian magical power, Dragon Elephant Prajna Art!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the black and red monk's robes on his body suddenly swelled up, and there was a blast of bones in his body like fried Douzi, and he suddenly assumed an offensive posture.
In the side hall, Zen Master Huiming was still sitting cross-legged.
But his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed his current weak state.
Just suppressing four people on a spiritual level by himself had already consumed a lot of energy on his part.
At this moment, facing the tyrannical physical fight, the old monk was obviously a little powerless.
The atmosphere inside Courtyard has dropped to freezing point, and the battle is about to break out.
Cheng Jiashu, who was hiding in Bamboo Grove, gently poked Fang Cheng with his elbow and said in a low voice:
"What a good opportunity. This old monk can't hold on any longer. You go out to save the situation now. If you ask him anything later, he will have to answer honestly."
Fang Cheng did not answer the call immediately.
He stared at the few Lama in the yard through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, with a somewhat surprised expression.
Because he knows these people.