The prince is in trouble, your invincible strength has been exposed

In the ancient Great Qin Empire, there are countless heroic blood and tears flowing in the long river of history. In this world where the strong are honored, the power of the dynasty becomes the standard by which everything is measured.

"This little monk is also a miserable person..."Looking at the picture that appeared on the Heavenly Dao Gold List, Great Qin's Emperor Yingzheng couldn't help but feel emotional, a trace of helplessness flashed in his eyes, and he said softly, "That dynasty is already a medium-sized dynasty, and it already has some strength on the Kyushu Continent. His words reveal a deep understanding of reality.

"A little monk, what can be done?!" Ying Zheng continued, with a hint of weakness in his voice, as if telling the cruel truth of this world. The Kyushu continent is, after all, a world where dynasties are respected, the strong are like forests, and the weak can only silently endure the arrangement of fate.

The reason why many emperors want to recruit the strong people on the peerless list is only for their own safety and not to be easily assassinated. In such a world, it is still war that determines the fate of the dynasty! Assassination, after all, is a small way, not the work of a truly strong man. Such a small monk really seems to be powerless.

"Really?" However, hearing this, Ying Ning was a little noncommittal, her eyes fell on the silent little monk on the gold list, and shook her head. For some reason, he felt that this little monk was not the kind of character who gave up easily.

At this moment, when everyone was looking forward to it, the picture of the Heavenly Dao Gold List flashed again, gradually getting closer, so that everyone could see everything that happened under Qingshan Temple more clearly. I saw that hearing the words of the old monk, the little monk was silent for a long time, and suddenly raised his head slightly, looked at the old monk, and said seriously, "Buddha crosses me..."

"Then why don't you cross her?" The little monk's question was like a bombshell, causing an uproar inside and outside Qingshan Temple. The Buddha said, "Overcome all suffering!" Let go of your attachments, and you can become a Buddha! But why, the Buddha only crosses me, not her? As soon as these words came out, the Qingshan Temple, and even the whole of Kyushu, all quieted down.

Why?! This question, like a bottomless black hole, swallows up all the sounds, and people can't help but think deeply.

In a quiet place in Qingshan Temple, an almost murmuring question gently drifted away: "The Buddha crossed me, why didn't you cross her?!" Although the voice was soft, it was like a stone cast into still water, with layers of ripples.

It was a quiet afternoon, and the sun shone through the cracks in the leaves, dappled on the old bluestone slabs. The little monk's voice was not intense, there was no heart-rending pain, and there was no madness to lose his mind. His words carry the confusion and doubts that have accumulated in his heart after years of reciting Buddhist scriptures devoutly.

"Why?" he asked himself again, a tremor in his voice. He wondered, didn't all those years of practice, those Buddhist scriptures that never leave his hand day and night, clearly tell him that he should see that the five aggregates are empty, and that he must overcome all suffering?

At the moment of Ah Xiu's death, he asked himself in pain, "Where was the Buddha at that time?!".

When the old monk heard this call, he couldn't help but be stunned. He didn't expect that this little monk, who had always seemed docile, would ask such a profound question at such a moment. The question of crossing me and not crossing her seems to be questioning the compassion of the Buddha and exploring the meaning of life.

The

breeze gently blew and picked up pieces of fallen leaves, which swirled in the air and finally slowly landed on the bluestone slab between the two of them. At that moment, the entire Qingshan Temple fell into an indescribable tranquility. Only the little monk's question, like an unsolved mystery, echoed under this ancient sky, with a little sadness and confusion.

He didn't understand what the "Buddha" he was reciting in his heart was, whether it was the Lord of salvation that he had believed in for many years, or whether it was an existence that could not answer the doubts in his heart

The old monk looked at the little monk, and a trace of compassion flashed in his eyes. He spoke softly, with a hint of helplessness in his tone: "Everything is a certainty. He explained that Ah Xiu's life, her departure, was arranged by fate, and she would receive the true body of the Buddha in the next life.

However, he knew that these words no longer had any consolation for the little monk at this moment. He shook his head and turned to leave, no longer disturbing the little monk's grief.

"Definitely? haha!" the little monk laughed miserably, and the laughter revealed endless desolation. Tears slid down his eyes, it was the longing for Ah Xiu, the powerlessness of fate. Then, he once again made a Buddhist salute to the old monk to express his last respect.

Then, the little monk turned to leave, his back staggered with the figure of the old monk, and gradually disappeared into the distance.

Since that day, the little monk has never returned to Qingshan Temple. On a hill not far from Qingshan Temple, there is a new tomb. The tombstone is engraved with several dignified handwritings of "The Tomb of My Wife and Girl", which was obviously carved by someone with heart.

In front of the new tomb sat a little monk with a wine gourd thrown at random beside him. Even in a drunken and hazy dream, the little monk still muttered to himself: "Take refuge in the Buddha, take refuge in the law, take refuge in the monk...... His face had a smile on his face, but the tears in his eyes betrayed the sadness in his heart.

The

people of Kyushu originally had a little criticism of this once enviable little monk, but after seeing him like this, all the accusations turned into silence. There was sympathy and understanding in their eyes. They finally understood how deep and true the little monk's love for the show girl was.

The beautiful woman has passed away, and the little monk can only find a moment of forgetfulness in alcohol. This is a poor person, a person who has lost a loved one, but is looking for answers in the Dharma.

In that quiet and ancient monastery, the melodious Buddha horn echoed between the empty valleys, and the little monk sat quietly in front of the Buddha statue, chanting words in his mouth. His face was peaceful, as if a pool of water had stopped, but there were waves in his heart. Buddha does not cross, Buddha... His voice was low and full of doubt, as if he was searching for a profound Zen truth.

At this moment of calm, the little monk's body suddenly trembled, and his whispering stopped abruptly, as if awakened by some nightmarish vision. When he opened his eyes, he saw that cold sweat had soaked through his monk's robe, cold and biting. An urgent question came to his mind: Buddha, why don't you cross you? This question is like a hammer that hits the depths of his heart.

The little monk's gaze fell on the tombstone engraved with the word "Xiu" in front of him, his hand gently caressing the cold stone surface, with a trace of choked and puzzled in his voice. He whispered repeatedly, "If the Buddha doesn't cross you, what's the use of a poor monk worshipping the Buddha?"

With the passage of time, the little monk's originally clear and bright eyes began to become chaotic, and there seemed to be an indescribable madness spreading in them. His emotions spiraled out of control, turning from a whispered question to a heart-rending roar. The voice was mixed with the wail of a beast when it lost its mate, poignant and desperate.