Vol 2 Chapter 2123: Xiaoling Temple

Xiao Hua looked up and looked at the leaves. Some horror, the snow was falling, the leaves were still green, and the slightest withered and browned, even the white and the green, reflected the vitality of the green leaves. Look at the trunk that you hit yourself. It is different from the ordinary trunk. The trunk is about a few feet in size. It is not an independent trunk. Instead, there are dozens of trunks. These dozens of trunks are rugged. As a group, each independent trunk is so powerful and powerful. Under the trunk, it is deeply inserted into the deep buried mountain. When the middle section of the trunk is obtained, the dozens of trunks are twisted into one. The branches and leaves are scattered from the top of the trunk, and the left and right ten feet are covered.
"What is this strange tree?" Poor Xiao Hua came from the desert of the Buddha's desert, and naturally did not know the reason for this tree. He secretly said, "This tree does not look ordinary, but if not Lingshu, this cold snow, how can you keep the leaves evergreen?"
Thinking of this, Xiao Hua looked up at the small temple not far away and smiled: "Xiao Mou asked in the past?"
The small temple is not big, it is comparable to the Jiangchao view of Jiangchaoling, and the front area of ​​the small temple is snowy, and there are no traces of any pedestrians. Xiao Hua already knows that this must be a broken temple.
Before Xiaohua walked to the small temple, he turned to look at his own footprints. A kind of self-consciousness came out of his heart: "The geese passed the sound, and the people passed the name. Xiaomou only occasionally passed the mountain. Such a heavy snow left such a mark. Although the snow is fine, no one knows that Xiao has this line. But what about Xiaomou's heart? Inside Xiao's memory? What is the master in this temple?

"But it, it's gone, people's trip, heaven and earth shadow, world chaos, who knows?" Xiao Hua suddenly felt like he was a lot old, anything would make him sad, hurriedly swayed his head and looked up at the little temple. The plaque on the board.
"Small...order...Wang Temple??" The plaque of the temple is obviously Sanskrit, and Xiao Hua is also known. But this card has a long history. It seems that it can be compared with the grass in Xiaohua space. Therefore, the writing has long been blurred. Xiaohua has resolved several times to simply give up, and he is about to step up the stairs to knock the same broken temple door. suddenly. Xiao Hua stopped. Because the steps above the temple gate are clean and abnormal. Only a few snowflakes fell with the wind, apparently just someone had cleaned it. Xiao Hua hurried back a few steps and shook his body. The snow flakes around the body flew up, revealing Xiao Hua's dry and unusual clothes. But when those snowflakes are going to fly, Xiao Hua seems to have thought of something. He will take a hand and all the snowflakes will fall on him. Then Xiao Hua reaches out and smears on his head. Zhou played down dozens of times, shaking off most of the snow, and after leaving a part of the snow, this respectful step, reaching out to knock the copper ring above the temple door.
"Dangdang..." The sound of the door knocker is not very big, but it is very clear. The sound of falling snow in the "Hammer" has spread far away in the breeze of "嗖嗖"...
However, after a while, there was no sound in the temple door, and there was no sound of footsteps.
"Know it..." Xiao Hua twitched and tempted it. The temple gate was smattered. It should be opened by hand. There was no shadow wall on the head, but a small open space. The first thing that reflected Xiaohua’s eyes was a Mission orange! Waiting for Xiao Hua to add a little eye, it has been seen clearly, it is a monk dressed in orange and weird costumes lying on a piece of snow, on the other side of the monk is a clean half of the open space.
"Hey~" Xiao Hua saw it, did not dare to neglect, was about to fly forward to rescue, but see that the moving monk was a convulsion, and it was a slow, difficult climb from the ground. At this time, Xiao Hua can see clearly. This is an old man who has spent a year. The skin color on his face is very black and red. The whole face is covered with wrinkles. Just like a walnut, under a pair of white eyebrows, the two pairs are fascinated. There was only one turbidity in the eyes of a slit.
The old monk will stand up, first look around, slowly bend over and pick up a weird orange-red hat like a cockscomb, carefully knock off the contaminated snow particles, and then carefully wear it. His own bare head. Xiao Hua can see clearly. Although the old monk is careful, his eyes seem to have problems. The hat is completely based on the feeling. The tail of the weird hat has not been destroyed by a lot of snow particles.
Wearing a hat, the old monk was tough to bend over, touched a broom from the ground and slowly cleaned it up. Although the old monk was cleaning, but he was too slow to sweep, the snow in this sky is too big, just swept away, and there are snowflakes falling, just like the old monk did not clean up.
Xiao Hua stood quietly at the gate of the temple. There was no sound, no near, and only silently watching. This old monk is completely different from the Tao of the Seven Yangguan, one in the Tibetan continent and one in the bliss world. One is a disciple, and the other is a Buddhism disciple. It can be seen in Xiao Hua’s eyes. It seems that there is no difference between the two. The old monk’s broom and the porridge’s spoon are the same. Firm, so persistent.
The old monk, who saw little space, swept a meal, and when the old monk turned around, the entire open space was covered with a layer of snow. This open space is a small square in front of the temple hall. It is not like the steps in front of the temple. The old monk is not looking up, but he does not look up. He starts cleaning again. Xiao Hua has to cough. The snowflake is so big, the old monk's action is so slow, Xiao Hua has no doubt, unless the snow stops, the old monk will never finish.
Unfortunately, Xiao Hua’s unusual cough sound did not attract the attention of the old monk, and the broom still cleaned the open space.
Xiao Hua looked up and looked at some gloomy halls. After hesitating for a moment, he still put out the Buddha’s knowledge and waited for a general look. He knew that there was no other person in the temple except this old monk. Xiao Hua had to walk to the old monk. In front of him, his hands clasped together: "Amitabha, is the elder good?"
"Well..." The old monk didn't seem to hear the general, or it was simply a mess, and he snorted in the nose, ignoring Xiao Hua, straight in front of Xiao Hua's face, and sweeping a few feet. After that, it seems that I suddenly understood the general, slowly looked up, the filthy eyes could not see any look of scorpion looking at Xiaohua, and the eyes fell on Xiaohua’s bare head, and slowly The broom is held in his arms, and his hands are combined. "Amitabha, you are finally here!"
"I... I finally came? What does the elder mean?" Xiaohua has some Nahan, but he is not surprised, because in the eyes of Xiao Hua, the old monk did not see his face at all, what he saw Just his own bald head, except that the old monk admits the wrong person, he does not make other guesses.
"The elders have mistaken people!" Xiao Hua smiled. "Below..."
Everything in the old monk is slow, whether it is sweeping the floor or talking, but since the old monk spoke, the old monk ignored what Xiao Hua said, and asked himself: "What is your law number?"
The old monk’s words happened to interrupt Xiao Hua’s words. Xiao Hua smiled slightly and knew that the old monk did not listen to what he had just said, so he replied:
The law number below does not mention it...

Yes, Xiao Hua has no shaving at all, nor is it an authentic Buddha disciple. Where is the law number?
However, the old monk at this time seems to be able to understand it again, and nodded slightly: "Oh, it was originally Bodhi!"
"Bodhi?" Xiao Hua couldn't help but laugh. The old monk was really able to fight, and for a moment he actually found the law for himself.
The old monk was even more interesting. After finishing the sentence, he picked up the broom. It seemed to have forgotten Xiaohua in general, and began to sweep the snow. It was swept for a while, and then it stopped and slowly slowed down again. Said: "Bodhi, Bodhi? My Buddha is like... no such generation! Oh, yes, Xiao Sha, are you a disciple of my Buddhism?"
"Yes, it is a vulgar disciple in the next!" Xiao Hua thought for a moment, and had to answer, he did not worship the Buddha, but also cultivated the Buddhism, saying that it is appropriate to be a disciple. However, Xiao Hua is very skeptical whether the old monk heard himself say this. Because, after saying this, the old monk started to sweep the snow again. It seems that this snow does not stop, he will keep sweeping, except for sweeping snow, he will not do anything else!
Xiao Hua sighed, knowing that the purpose of his own information was not realized. After thinking about it, he said: "Under the practice of the elders, let’s say goodbye..."
That is, when he just got up and didn’t move his feet, the old monk raised his head again. The muddy eyes didn’t know whether he was looking at Xiaohua, or he looked at the temple door behind Xiao Hua and said:
Poor I have been waiting for 90 years in this small Linglong Temple. Now the impoverishedness has reached the point where the oil is dry, and it counts... You should have come in these two days. The poor is finally finished. The mission of the temple will lead the future Buddha to the Pure Land world!"
"Boom..." For a moment, it was like being bombarded by the awe-inspiring gas column to the bald head. Xiaohua heard "Little Linglong Temple" immediately thought of his "Bai Ye Ling Jing Jing", while the old monk would "future Buddha" The words of the Lord said, although the words of the old monk are very slight, and even some pronunciation is not accurate, it can be heard in Xiao Hua’s ear almost like a blue sky, and the sweat of the bean oozes from the top of his head! The whole figure was a little swaying. Looking at the snow-sweeping monk in front of him, an unspeakable surprise arises from his heart... (to be continued.)