Chapter 056 – West Buddha, East Devil, White Clothes, Deer by Deer

The sun is thinning in the west.

At the top of Ragged Mountain there is an earth embryo that has been painted for nearly forty years, a hint of looseness appears, and in an instant the golden light glitters, as if a clay Bodhisattva cracks, and a radiant undefeated golden body is now revealed. The top of the mountain, in addition to this mound, there is a knee sitting on the ground wearing a tattered robe of the aged monk, drooping old, snow white eyebrows drooping knee is still more than just a turn in the mud, the wind and the sun, making the skin dark and wrinkled, as a side of a dry field, lined with two wisps of white eyebrows more and more miserable. When he saw the soil embryo loosening, mud flakes fall to the ground, clearly is almost subtle imperceptible, but seems to be in the ears of this Tantric Dharma King, but it is like that thunderclap ringing in the ears, the two long eyebrows messy fluttering, the figure more and more immovable as a mountain. As the Rattoria Mountain, claimed to have never said a word of delusion in his life, the right full-fledged monks, body, mouth and thoughts of the three no loss, he and another monk has been here in turn to wait for more than twenty years, the white-browed old monk stood up, lowered his eyebrows, only to see the crumbs continue to fall, all over the body of the golden light, the real person to show his face. Rotten Mountain at this moment, suddenly chanting sutras, the mountain in the sound of chanting more lofty, solemn treasure. Facing the east of the old monk looked back to the west, the setting sun, I do not know whether it is an illusion, with that mound as a sound sleep lion, finally no longer snooze, after opening his eyes, shaking off the dust, began to be swallowed by the mountains and rivers, the afterglow suddenly bright, compared to that such as the sun in the middle of the sky, the splendor of the degree of brilliance, but not even close to the slightest difference.

Great Sun Ruler.

Elderly Dharma King slowly turned his head, in the line of sight appeared as if the netherworld turned his head back to the yang world of the old monks, than more than a hundred years old white-browed old monks are more old and stupefied, dry and thin, I’m afraid that even the ninety kilograms of body weight are less than, such a physique, it can be said that the weak. Ragdoll Mountain although not martial arts, but generations of monks, like that is only considered his junior six beads master, realm cultivation is also not weak. The Bodhisattva lowers his eyebrows to be compassionate, and at the same time, he is also able to subdue dragons and elephants with his angry eyes. The white-browed monk in the vision of the old monk, no sound, no breath, dead silence abnormal. Tantric Buddhism proclaimed that the body to prove Buddha, the East China has been regarded as evil, in the final analysis, or Confucianism and Taoism have a grudge, and now the Liyang dynasty and the North Mang almost at the same time to eliminate the Buddha, in fact, the extermination of the Zen sect, but the white-browed old monk but to go to the insight of this Buddhism after the catastrophe of the trend, he can not do it himself, and only be able to hope in front of the eyes of the immaculate pure lion that issued a grand wish to be the body to prove the Buddha but also to become a Buddha of all living beings.

Withered old monk finally opened his mouth, the voice did not come out, first a mouthful of turbid gas such as gray smoke slowly spit out, “his body and mind dirt is like a glass bottle, can be broken with a hammer. But all beings millions of glass bottle, sledgehammer in the East.”

White eyebrows old monk face moved, hands together, Buddha sang.

“Going from west to east, who will go to hell if I don’t.”

After the withered old monk, who was even older than the hundred year old Dharma King on Rangtuo Mountain, finished saying this, he stretched out one hand and stroked it on the top of his own head, as if it were a hammer hitting itself, the hammer dispersed the golden light, and the top of the mountain shone brightly all over.

The white-browed monk’s face showed sorrow.

A hammer smashed the glazed heart dirt bottle, should be instantly Buddha, the achievement of supreme Dharma Buddha, but the high monk knows that the monk in front of him is not so at all. Above the western mountains, a round of light perversely bright sun, as if losing support, after the monk’s own dunking, quickly dim, convergence of the afterglow, the rapid fall of the mountain.

Standing two white eyebrows to the knees of the monk looked up again, has not seen a realization of forty years of the old monk. Two Zen Temple had a epiphany, this meal, but some long time. In the ear is only full of mountain chanting sound, the old monk gently sighed.

Outside the Iron Gate Pass, an old monk swept through the desert swept through the Gobi, once stopped, is the fingers as a knife, cut off the arm meat, feed the young eagle between the cracks in the mountain wall, once in the desert squatting, watching the insects and vermin wandering. When the original itself Rong dying old monk came to the Kui Men Pass, as if younger than a dozen years, in the majestic pass outside the station, staring blankly, eyes dim, only to see that into the pass or out of the plug detained people in a hurry, a look is a couple of days and nights, when the GuanSe soldiers are ready to go to interrogate a few words, the old monk has been nowhere to be found. West Shu northern border of many dangerous mountains and deep streams, Shu Road is more difficult than the sky, a monk dressed in the shape of an old man such as a swan, come and go as the wind, see the mountains over the mountain tops, encountered a big river step on the surface of the river, a withered wood skin has begun to glow, as the winter wood meets the first spring, but the eyes more and more muddy, robe fluttering, the next step where to fall at your own whim, the occasional encounter with the fiberglass man pulling the boat on top of the shoals, monks appeared in the back of the boat, stepping on the freezing and piercing the bones of the river, the monks were in a boat, the monk was in the back of the boat, stepping on the frozen and bone-breaking river, and the monk was in a boat. Listening to the Shu Hanzi’s horn, slowly push the boat twenty miles, and then a flash, in the deep forest a swept dozens of feet, bang, the old monk stopped violently, his hands holding a winter bird he killed, the palm of his hand above the blood and flesh, the old monk’s eyes confused, the first is a sudden awakening, silent mournful, and then fell into a daze, the eyes are godless, this is a stop is a half a decade, during which there is a heavy rain pouring on the top of the roof, there is a snow on the frost invade through the Body and bones, until one morning, the rising sun, and then looked back and then eastward, this way through the yellow sand thousands of miles, passing through the golden city of ponds, a thousand ditches and intestinal trails, and finally set foot in the Central Plains, and in the small town of the shoulder wall to hide from the rain, watching umbrella pedestrians walk, in the knee-high creek to see people pounding clothes, in the moon starry night under the night watchman knocking the night watchman, the famous city of the ancient city of the frozen dead by the side of the road bones, the day, is already in decline only like the The old monk in the middle of life in the wilderness of a lonely graveyard small mound side, see the words mottled gravestone on a word, I do not know why traveling thousands of miles to see ten thousand people, is to forget who they are, and go and where, and see and who, but at this point in time to remember only one word, Liu.

Clueless old monk continued to travel east, one day came to a green hill, the wind shook the pine forest, sound like waves. Mind, floating on an ancient pine, looking out into the distance, hearing the pine waves burst, a full ten years later, before hoarsely opening, “Pine Tao.”

A dead remembered word Liu. Plus at this moment, the pine waves are like drums.

The old monk is no longer old, looks like middle-aged, forty not confused, for this eastward traveling ten thousand miles to forget the past and the past of the Ragged Mountain monks, this moment is indeed called not confused, face smiling, “Liu Songtao.”

Jianghu soon knew that the western region came to a young crazy monk, traveling all the way to the east, the mouth seems to sing non-singing, seems to recite non-recitation, wherever they go, suddenly see people will not be in the right mind to kill, and suddenly face to face to pass the Buddha’s teachings.

In the boundless plains above, as and crown the age of young monks chanting, wind, still that one began to circulate in the Central Plains of the useless song.

“Heaven and earth are useless, they do not enter my eyes. The sun and moon are useless, they cannot be together. Kunlun is useless, not coming to me. Compassion is useless, and the Taoist face is not a good one. Purity is useless, my sleeves are empty. The river is useless; it goes eastward and does not return. The wind and snow are useless; they cannot keep you warm. Grass is useless; it dries up every year. Zen is useless, what Buddha …… has become.”

The young monk strutting forward suddenly stopped and raised his eyes to look out, as if looking at the scenery hundreds of miles away.

He cupped his belly and laughed, wahahaha a string of loud laughter that suddenly resounded through heaven and earth.

Did not converge laughter, the body of the tattered robe began to flutter and fly, the body of the place, no footprints, tear out a gully, the young monk sprinted for six hundred miles, face the wall to break through the wall, into the forest and folded the wood, leaping from mountain to mountain.

Finally and six hundred miles away from a white monk with the same wildly running to the blast collided together.

The ground in a three-mile radius was instantly sunk into a huge round pit.

After a collision, the young monk is actually a slight pause offset, continue to run forward, as the river flowing eastward, the mouth is still laughing, “The emperor is useless, nothing more than a hundred years. The king of hell is useless, envy me free. Immortals useless, mortals are laughing …… sunrise in the east, sunset in the west, where I am where I go ……”

Who in heaven can stand in the way of this young mad monk?

Deng Ta’a has already left the sea to visit the immortals, Cao Changqing is bent on restoring the country, could it be that Wang Xianzhi in the middle of Wudi City?

The world does not know that there is a mountain between the mad monk and Wang Xianzhi.

The main peak of Mount Deer, with 3,000 white jade steps.

A new white devil who has recently joined Mount Deer is at the top of the mountain.

A red and a green two tail aura fish, like carp not carp, like jiao not jiao, fish beard is extremely long, the two fish floating in the air like swimming water, in the body of the white clothes in the mysterious swimming.

White side in addition to the two tails of wonders, near the steps there is a station and a sit two men of different ages, the young man less than the age of standing, short, stagnant face, sitting on the steps and resting on the cheeks looking out over the mountain scenery. The older man is about forty years old, carrying a long cloth bag, wrapped with a broken spear.

The middle-aged man asked softly, “Sect Master, let Teng Mao go stop that Western monk?”

It was actually Northern Mang speech.

The man in white flatly asked back, “Can you stop Bodhisattva Tuoba?”

The man who called himself Deng Mao smiled to himself and shook his head. The Sect Leader’s meaning was simple, stopping Tuoba Bodhisattva was the only way to have the ability to stop that gray-robed monk, after all, this man had not even succeeded in stopping the white-robed monk Li Dangxin.

The short man spoke, “Even if he is the Liu Songtao who escaped back then, at his peak, he may not be able to beat the present-day Wang Xianzhi and Tuoba Bodhisattva.”

The white-robed man sneered, “Wait until you first defeat Teng Mao, the ninth in the world, before you say that.”

Deng Mao laughed softly, “Sooner or later. Northern Mang will rely on Hong Jingyan and this kid to hold up their faces in the future.”

The white-robed man did not retort and slowly walked down the steps.

The nearly a thousand big and small devils prostrate on top of the steps bowed their heads as much as they could.

The man in white looked to the west without expression.

Li Dangxin is unwilling to dwell on this, then I, Luoyang, will fight you, Liu Songtao!