Devil Lord, You Lose Your Soul

As soon as the young man followed the little monk, the old lady worshipped the Buddha happily. Then she went out of the Buddhist temple to have a rest, waiting for the good news from her little grandson.

But the remaining people looked at each other. Someone asked the monk who was guarding the signer and said, "master, is this the third signer still smoking?"

"No more." Monk humanitarian, "the third king has come out, and can't draw."

"That's not necessarily. The signer in the little boy's hand just now is not in this signer. I see that the third signer is still in this signer."

As soon as these words came out, many people looked at the sign container and were eager to try. They wondered if they could go to see the master if they had drawn the sign.

And the monk didn't know whether the king of signature was still counting. For a moment, he didn't know how to answer. Finally, after thinking about it, he sent a little monk to ask his little martial uncle.

However, the news from the little martial uncle hasn't come back yet. The Pilgrims who have been waiting in line for a long time can't wait, and the monks can't stop them. They have to get out of the way and let them continue to shake the lottery. It's fate that matters.

If someone can shake out the signer again, I don't think the younger martial uncle will blame him.

Sure enough, the people in the queue swayed from dawn to dusk. Some people even swayed back and forth in the queue for several times, but they didn't shake out the king.

Someone yelled that it must be strange. The monks in the temple had to pour out the wooden stick in the stick container. The reflection inside quickly found the king of the stick.

"Some of them have not been signed by Wang." The monk put his hands together and said a Buddhist sermon.

The man who yelled for the king was red in the face and ears. He accused the Buddha and left.

Before that, the boy followed the little monk to a Zen room. The little monk reached for the door and said, "master, please come back."

Then he got out of the way and said to the young man, "young master, please."

The boy was a little nervous, but he was always arrogant and didn't want to be seen through. So he threw his sleeve, snorted and went in with his chin raised.

As a result, when he crossed the threshold, he clearly raised his leg, but somehow he was tripped.

The boy almost fell face to face when he was staggering.

Fortunately, he steadied himself in time, but he still felt ashamed. He raised his head with a red face. The master sat on the bed and recited a Buddhist name with his hands folded. He said with a smile, "young master, you don't have to do this big gift."

The boy's face turned red and murmured: "I don't want to salute you. I It's all your fault that the threshold of Zen Buddhism is too high. "

"What young master said is, before thinking, cut down the threshold." The master raised his voice and said to the little monk outside.

The little monk didn't ask why, so he went to find the axe.

But the boy was stunned, and watched the little monk return with an axe, and really cut down the threshold.

"I You are too serious Instead, the boy felt embarrassed and muttered with a red face.

The little monk had already gone down with an axe. The master didn't mention the threshold any more. He pointed to the stool on one side and said, "please sit down, benefactor."

The boy clenched the king in his hand and went to sit down. For some reason, he suddenly felt that the king in his hand was hot. When he looked down, he found that the king was shining with gold.