Water Recovery System

As soon as Shen Jiayan teleported over, his eyes went dark, and his face was covered by a gray monk's clothing. The monk's clothes were dyed with a faint scent of sandalwood, which smelled nice.

Shen Jiayan hurriedly took off the clothes covering his face, and saw Fan Yin standing in front of him.

His facial features are delicate and soft, and his whole body is as elegant as a lotus. He just stood there quietly, the waves in his eyes were not surprised, it was like an ink painting with mountains and waters, the intensity was suitable, the added touch was gorgeous, and the missing touch was light. Even the peach blossoms in full bloom in the courtyard can't compare with his half-length appearance.

The eyes of the Sanskrit voice, as clear as water, looked over: "Are you in a big trouble?"

Shen Jiayan hesitated for a moment, then rushed over and hugged Sannyin, his body trembling: "I'm afraid, I'm so scared, there are so many of them..."

Fanyin had never been so close to people before, and the clothes in his arms were disheveled, and his warm skin was sticking to his underwear, which was always unruly.

Fanyin wanted to reach out and push the person in his arms, but he paused when he felt that he was shaking.

Fanyin's hands froze in midair, feeling a little at a loss for a while. Finally, it lightly landed on Shen Jiayan's back, and took a few unnatural pats: "Okay, they are gone."

Shen Jiayan turned a deaf ear to Sanskrit's arms. The monk's clothes that Fanyin had just put on him slipped down, revealing the white and tender skin inside, with the red marks left by the struggle; there was also a small, red mole in the center of the shoulder blade.

The roots of the ears of Sanan Yin suddenly became red, and he was ashamed or angry: "You let go of the poor monk first."

Shen Jiayan was not sure if he was really angry, and let go of his hand obediently, with tears still in his eyes, and bowed his head and said: "I know my status is low, and naturally I can't get into the eyes of the national teacher. I am dirty."

When speaking, the fingers were tightly squeezed, and the red mark was drawn.

Shen Jiayan's clothes were torn to pieces, and she had long lost the function of covering. The snow-white skin was dazzling, if it weren't for the person standing here today, I'm afraid that no matter who it is, he would lose his mind and pounce on it.

Piansheng still showed an aggrieved look. He just wanted to let people bully him again. It's best to bully him so that he shed tears...

Fan Yin suddenly realized what terrible thought he had just moved. After reciting a few words of the Buddha, the Buddha's heart that was shaken was strengthened again: "In the eyes of the poor monk, all beings are equal. There is no need to belittle oneself."

Shen Jiayan blinked, and tears rolled down her cheeks: "Then master, can I be with you and serve the Buddha?"

"No." Fanyin refused almost in a panic, and then felt that he refused too quickly, so he added another sentence: "You are not broken, and the six roots are not clean, and you cannot enter Buddhism."

But what is the real reason? Only Sanskrit knows.

That's the reason why he couldn't speak up-he actually moved the heart of dust.

"System, what does it mean that the mortal dust is not broken and the six roots are not clean?" Shen Jiayan was a little confused, "It seems that there is no such paragraph in the original plot, right?"

The black cat looked at Sanskrit, then looked at his host: "Could it be that you have hair, but he doesn't?"

"Oh." Shen Jiayan suddenly realized.

Shen Jiayan picked up the scissors in the bedside make-up niche and wrung out his hair.

The spontaneous roots of the waterfall-like blue silk were chopped off, leaving only jagged hair. The ink color came from the air and slowly fell to the ground, covering the whole floor, looking shocking.

Shen Jiayan asked him with a messy broken hair: "Guo Shi, is this considered as pure as the six roots?"

The hand of Sanan Yin fiddled with the Buddhist beads slightly. There were few things in this world that could disturb his heart, but after meeting this person, he repeatedly made exceptions.

It is said that the appearance is nothing more than a stinky skin, but for some reason, Su Yichen at this moment is surprisingly beautiful in his eyes. That kind of beauty is like a blazing flame. You know that you will be burned if you get close to it, but you can't help being attracted by his dazzlingness.

Moths fighting the fire are probably nothing more than that.

Fanyin closed his eyes, still cruelly refused: "It doesn't count."

"Okay." Shen Jiayan smiled, but looked a little desperate. He stepped back step by step: "Since the Buddha is unwilling to accept me, then Master Guo Shi, will the King of Yama be willing to accept me?"

Fanyin subconsciously pulled Shen Jiayan, but only had time to tear off a corner of his clothes.

Shen Jiayan's forehead slammed heavily on the vermilion pillar, and the blood was snaking down.

Fanyin hurriedly reached out to pick him up, and in a panic tore off the thread of the prayer beads. The beads rolled down one by one, hit the ground, and finally rolled in all directions in this room.

Fanyin stared at the beads blankly, and slowly closed his eyes. He sighed softly in his heart: That's it!

Shen Jiayan was still dizzy, and he heard the Sanskrit voice saying clearly: "When your wound is healed, come to the Zen Temple to find me and follow me to practice Buddhism."

"Thank you Guoshi." Shen Jiayan's lips were almost transparent, but he still laughed.

Fanyin hugged Shen Jiayan onto the bed, her voice Lingling: "Since you follow me in the practice of Buddhism, you have changed to Yunziren, the name Yunchen. From then on, just call me Master."

"Master." Shen Jiayan cried out cleverly, although the person in front of him was only one year older than him.

Fanyin nodded slightly, and when he had to say something, there was a bustling voice around him, mixed with the sound of chaotic footsteps, and someone came over.

The headed woman looks over forty years old. Even if she is well maintained, she can't hide the signs of aging in the corners of her eyes. There are deep wrinkles on the eyebrows. She is a serious and difficult woman at first sight. She was dressed in a dark pattern embroidered golden blessing robe, every step seemed to have been measured, and she walked quite well.

She is the aunt of the Su Mansion, the Yan family, and Su Yun's biological mother.

Yan Shi gave a gift to the Sanskrit: "This evildoer did such a bad thing, but he smeared the eyes of the holy monk. Let me make a compensation to the holy monk. Please also ask the holy monk to move, I Here comes the rules for this shameless thing. Come on, please family law."

Su Yun smiled and agreed: "Mother, it seems that my second brother wants to be a man. You can get him out as early as possible."

"Shut up!" Yan cried, "In front of the holy monk, what are you talking about?"

Su Yun's face was uncomfortable, but because of Yan's face, he didn't dare to talk back, and only muttered in a low voice: "It wasn't me. You said he still has that face to look at. You will be a joke for others in the future. Favor, it will also make my official journey smoother."

Fanyin heard it really, and a slight anger flashed in his eyes. He finally understood why this young man would rather die than leave this place.

While talking, the housekeeper took the cane. The cane was thick about the forearm of an adult man, and there were some burrs on it that were not smoothed. Just by looking at it, you can imagine how much it would be hit on the body. pain.

Those aristocratic children who had been scared away came in with Yan Shi, and all of them rolled up their sleeves and prepared to watch the show. Several faces were filled with uncontrollable excitement, and they still yelled: "Okay, smoke him, smoke him hard."

Obviously, it is commonplace.

"Mrs. Su, from today onwards, Su Yichen will be the apprentice of the poor monk who takes the alms. If he is the apprentice of the poor monk, I don't have to worry about Mrs. Su. Once he recovers, the poor monk will pick him up and leave." Fanyin saw Shen Jiayan said with a shrunken expression.

Yan stared for a moment, and then his expression became cold: "Holy monk, I respect you so I call you holy monk. But now he has not been shaved, so he is not your official disciple. And as long as he doesn't shave for a day, he will be a holy monk. Ri is a member of my Su Mansion. I teach my own children that this is my family affair. I'm afraid the holy monk can't control this, right?"

She knew in her heart how Yan had treated Su Yichen harshly over the years.

The clearer she is, the more she knows that Su Yichen must not be allowed to climb up. Once he is aloof, then their mother and son cannot have a good life.

This Su Yichen had been fed chronic poison by her since she was a child, and her body was already weak. If she was beaten again before going to the temple, she wouldn't know if she would survive. It is a dream to become an apprentice of Sanskrit!

"Okay. The poor monk knows." Fanyin said, slowly leaning down and holding Su Yichen in his arms, "Then Mrs. Su, please."

The Yan slammed up the cane and sneered: "Holy monk, don't blame me. According to the house rules, there are fifty canes in total. If you can't stand it, you can get out of it."

Fan Yin ignored her, muttering Buddhist scriptures in his mouth, his expression was extremely pious.

Yan Shi was panting, but when he saw that Sanskrit sounded like an okay person, he chanted sutras to himself. It's been forty hits, but Yan Shi throws away the cane: "Okay, holy monk, I'll give you face today. That's all for it."

After speaking, Yan Shi took Su Yun and left.

It was just the vicious look cast at Shen Jiayan before he left, but Shen Jiayan knew that it was impossible to just let it go.

"The poor monk will go back and pay for you, and you can heal your wounds in Su Mansion." Fanyin slowly straightened up, walking slowly and slowly, just like an immortal.

Just waiting for the time when Fanyin returned to Tingchan Temple, he spit out a mouthful of blood as soon as he sat on the fan.

The old abbot slowly swept the fallen leaves on the floor with a broom, and a wise light flashed in his eyes: "Sanskrit, your Buddha's heart is unstable. Why?"

"For one person." Fanyin lowered his eyelashes.

"Then what do you want?" The old host stopped the sweeping action and asked.

"Hide him, avoid him, let him, and never see him again." Fanyin replied as cold as a cold moon.

"You look at the fallen leaves on the ground, how I sweep it, but after all, it won't be clean." The old host smiled, "Your heart is the ground. No matter how you clean or wipe it, the ones that should fall on it will eventually be cast. Fall on it. You say, is it clean?"

"What does the master mean?" Fanyin turned his face to ask him, looking a little dazed, innocent like a child.

"Kiss him, get close to him, leave him until there are no more ripples in my heart." The old monk continued to sweep the floor, "This way, one day, the leaves will fall, but they won't leave any traces in your heart."