Dayong Nu sentenced to death

It has just rained in Daxiangguo Temple, and the mountains are misty and cool.

The ancient Zen-sounding bell swayed, piercing through the thin mist and entering people's hearts. Yan Yun walked slowly on the mountain road paved with bluestone slabs, entered the gate of the temple, and walked straight to the peak.

44 The temple is surrounded by smoke and rain.

The glazed and golden tiles have been washed away.

In the simple and white eaves and pavilions, luxury and low-key, the cold mist dispels the incense of the world, and being in it makes people feel colder and colder.

"Speak to the benefactor."

The little monks passing by put their palms together and saluted him one after another, Yan Yun turned back one by one, and even the bamboo banquet following behind him rarely restrained his usual stubbornness, became quiet and steady, and followed him to return the salute.

The distance between the two was several meters, and they walked slowly.

The shoes stepped on the wet slate, a little slippery and a little sticky, and the rainy smell accompanied by the cold wind poured into the nostrils, making Zhu Yan frowned uncomfortably.

Subconsciously wanted to cough, but when his eyes touched the figure not far away, he choked back.

"You just wait here."

Words came from that firm and cold back, Zhu Yan's footsteps were slightly stagnant, and for a while, countless words rushed to his throat, choking him badly, he wanted to say, "My lord, I will go with you."

'Subordinates just follow silently' 'I don't want'...

His lips and teeth grumbled, and finally turned into a dry response: "Subordinate, follow orders."

He watched the figure walk away, disappearing into the blue shadows of the green mountains.

It was the same that day.

Riding the horse out of the city, climbing up the steps, entering the Buddhist monastery, and staying behind closed doors for three days, the world only said that the eldest son of the Taoist family resisted the order and refused to marry, and the people around him only acted like a son-in-law, but he was the only one who knew.

On the incense table in the Buddhist temple, Mr. Su's ever-burning lamp was enshrined.

He knew that the girl didn't respect ghosts and gods, didn't worship Buddha, didn't care about the world's gossip, and that she was hurt by swords, but he still wanted to be considerate for her.

Marriage with filial piety is disobedience to human relations.

Kneeling for three days to redeem his body.

But these, Young Master has never mentioned to anyone...

It is the same today.

Among the 44 halls of Daxiangguo Temple, one hall is located far away. It is a forbidden place. The monks and pilgrims in the temple are not allowed to cross the border, and are guarded by monks.

There have been rumors that there are precious scriptures and codes hidden here, which are rare and rare.

It is also said that it is the place where eminent monks sit and transform, and future generations are not allowed to disturb it.

No matter how the outside world guessed, in the past few years, no one had been able to get a glimpse of the secret. Yan Yun raised his finger and lifted the branch still dripping water in front of him, looking at the palace covered by white walls and blue tiles in the distance.

His eyes were dark and unspeakable.

A gust of wind passed by, and an old man in a monk's robe appeared from the other end of the forest. After seeing Yan Yun, he stopped and put his hands together: "Amitabha, long time no see, Lord Yan."

"Grandmaster."

Yan Yun lost all expression in an instant, always calm and calm: "Don't ask me, I'm bothering you."

"The benefactor is too serious."

The old monk's tone was gentle and compassionate, as if he was chanting sutras calmly: "This time, will the almsman go in?"

"Yes."

Yan Yun's voice was soft and sonorous, and the cold wind in the mountains fell on the old monk's ears. The old monk lowered his eyes lightly, his deep eyebrows and eyes were as quiet as an ancient well, and he smiled and said, "I was entrusted by someone to guard the gate here. , unless the door is willing to open, no one will disturb its purity, can the benefactor understand?"

"Understand."

"Okay, that's up to the benefactor."

After saying that, the old monk closed his eyes, flicked his sleeves, jumped up in the air, and sat cross-legged on the treetop. The treetop was slender and trembled with the wind, but after he fell, it was like a piece of light feather , seems to have no strength.

As the tree moves with the wind, so does he.

It was as quiet as a meditation.

If outsiders see this scene, they will be dumbfounded and praise his superb martial arts, which is rare in the world.

It's a pity that only the two of them can see this situation and this scene in the vast world.

Yan Yun bowed silently in that direction, then looked away, and walked towards the palace, getting closer, getting closer...

Overgrown weeds, rusty lion head iron rings, moss-covered walls and tile eaves, slightly peeling paint on the palace gate...

In the torment of the wind and snow, like a barrier, it was crumbling but strong enough to protect the people in that courtyard... for nearly ten years.

The door is locked.

People outside the wall can't get in, and people inside the wall can't get out.

He is standing here, one year, two years, five years, seven years... From childhood to youth, from morning sun to dusk, he is full of expectation, pity and pleading, until finally he is indifferent and silent, without any waves.

This door has never been opened.

Rain or shine, sand or snow...

Always quiet.

It's like being in this world, not wanting to have anything to do with it, abandoning flesh and blood, throwing away kindness and righteousness, and letting go of the past.

When he first returned to Shengjing, he also came here once.

It was the same that time, standing here quietly, staring at the door until dusk and sun set like blood.

He returned home full of exhaustion, and in the hot spring pool, he felt that the frozen blood seemed to have warmed up a bit.

It was also that time that she pushed the door open.

Amidst the mist, Dimple pulled back his nearly lost sanity with a smile. She didn't ask anything, but disturbed his mind with gags, leaving him with no time to think about other things.

She always knew, knew how to deal with him.

Su Lingling...

Thinking of this person, chanting this name, like a stream of spring water poured into an ice spring, silently dispelling the chill in his body.

A warm look flickered across Yan Yun's eyes, and when he raised his eyes again, the sense of tranquility around him quietly dissipated.

At an angle he didn't notice, the old monk's eyelids slightly lifted, and a gap opened, and a strange light flashed by, as if thinking, and quickly lowered his eyes to cover them.

"Baby Yan Yun, please see my father, queen, mother and concubine."

The man's cold and indifferent voice resounded in this world. After the hall was closed, he came several times, and he always stopped and stood quietly, looking at each other across the wall.

This is the first time I speak.

The sound drifted across the courtyard wall and came into it. There was a dead silence, as if there was no human voice, and no one responded...

Yan Yun's heart sank into the abyss bit by bit.

After a while, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he was about to speak again, but he suddenly replied, "What's the matter?"

The simple two words, peaceful and calm, like the whisper of Buddha, and like the sound of thunder, spread to Yan Yun's ears after nearly ten years.

This voice...is clearly familiar.

And with some strangeness.

His usual clear and calm pupils shrank slightly, no matter how calm and indifferent he was, he still couldn't help being in a trance for a moment.

"Father..."

He stumbled with his lips and teeth, and after a while, he found his deep and hoarse voice. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he couldn't get it out of his mouth. After struggling for a while, he said in a low voice: "I haven't seen you for a few years, parents Ann?"

The courtyard was silent, after a while, he heard the man reply: "Everything is fine."

"……And you?"

Unexpectedly, he would answer the question, Yan Yun was stunned for a moment, his Adam's apple rolled, and a strange and bewildered feeling came to his heart, rolling on the apex of his heart, like a burning fire, like a blunt knife grinding, painful and sore...

Sad and mournful...

He couldn't tell what it was, he only knew that it was completely different from the scene he had imagined thousands of times, after thinking for a long time, he said in a hoarse voice: "Boy, Yi'an."