Elder Weisu dug his heart, and his inner demon also disappeared.

The young monk sorted out his monk's robe and stood up indifferently.

Several disciples who had just guarded the formation outside Biluo Hall saw the young monk coming over and surrounded him as if facing a great enemy.

"Monk! You harmed our elder Weisu and hurt our disciples in Biquan Villa. Do you want to leave?"

Bai Luo turned around and saw the young monk lowering his eyes and asked softly: "How to compensate?"

The fierce disciple was stunned when he saw that the young monk was so easy to talk to, and subconsciously said, "Kill someone to pay for his life!"

The young monk didn't speak and didn't argue. If the disciple stabbed him with a sword now, the young monk wouldn't dodge.

A hint of displeasure flashed in Bai Luo's heart and asked the disciple coldly, "Why tell me who did this little monk kill?"

The disciple was speechless.

Bai Luo said sarcastically: "You elders commit suicide and commit suicide. Do you want to take this account on the little monk?"

Seeing Bai Luo helping the young monk, the disciple did not dare to argue, and muttered in a low voice: "Isn't that the Vermilion Bird Feather brought by him? It also hurts so many of our disciples."

Xie Zhanning shouted sternly: "Don't be presumptuous!"

Bai Luo said funnyly: "If it weren't for your elders who had the inner demon, the Vermilion Bird feather would have been an ordinary bird feather in his hand. If this little monk had not released his evil spirit and came out to suppress Wei Su's inner demon, you disciples would have been burned to death long ago. Are you those who were injured by his evil spirit so badly?"

This time, even Xie Zhanning was stunned. He never expected that the young monk was just trying to save people, and he blamed him wrongly. Xie Zhanning bowed to the young monk and said, "I just blamed the young master, Zhanning apologized to the young master."

"No need." The young monk said two words coldly and turned around and came out of Biluotang.

The matter has been explained clearly, naturally no one stops him anymore. The figure of the young monk looks extremely lonely among the disciples of Biquan Villa wearing green gauze and blue shirts.

Bai Luo said to Xie Zhanning: "Then we will say goodbye too."

Xie Zhanning quickly said, "Miss Bai, please stay."

Bai Luo turned around and looked at Xie Zhanning with some displeasure.

Xie Zhanning said embarrassedly: "Miss Bai, it's better to have a meal at Biquan Villa when it's getting late."

Xie Zhanning is Xie Bonian's eldest son, and the affairs in the village have long been handed over to Xie Zhanning. In terms of mundane affairs, Xie Zhanning never makes any mistakes. Although an elder just died in Biquan Villa, Bai Luo is still the benefactor of Biquan Villa, so he naturally cannot lose his etiquette.

Bai Luo smiled coldly and choked: "Why didn't you say that to the little monk just now?"

Xie Zhanning smiled bitterly and said, "My little master should not pay attention to me either."

This is true. If Xie Zhanning had just said to the young monk, the young monk would not even give him an expression.

Xie Zhanning said quietly: "Miss Bai, you saved Brother Yu. Brother Yu must thank you personally when he wakes up. I hope Miss Bai will not dislike the simplicity of the village. Zhanning will prepare good wine and food for Miss Bai now."

After all the words were said, Bai Luo couldn't refuse, so he answered Xie Zhanning's invitation.

The people in Biluo Villa were more or less injured, and the front halls were a little messy, so they naturally could not go there again. Xie Zhanning set up the banquet in his Luomeiyuan.

Xie Zhanning said that the prepared wine and dishes are indeed not a scam. Although time hastily, the dishes and ingredients are the best. Even the wine is also made of frosted plum wine made from the frost and snow on the plum blossoms in winter. Xie Zhanning is very kind to treat guests, chatting during the meal, and eating a meal is not boring.

Just as they were having a meal, the front hall was cleaning up the mess.

The two disciples covered the white cloth on Elder Weisu and carried Elder Weisu to the back mountain.

No one noticed that the heart dug out by Elder Weisu disappeared.

...

After the young monk walked out of Biquan Villa, he walked down the three thousand steps in front of Biquan Villa. He had no sword in his hand and could not control the swordsmanship, so he could only walk down one after another. When he reached the foot of the mountain, the sky was already dark.

At the foot of the mountain is Yuquan Town. Because Yuquan Town is leaning against Biquan Villa, there are few monsters that cause trouble. At night, it is even more lively than during the day. Theatres, gambling houses, and brothels are extremely noisy at night. There are guests who go to listen to music and get drunk at night, and there are ghost food stalls.

The ghost food stall has the word "ghost", but it has nothing to do with ghosts, and it is not a stall opened for ghosts. The word "ghost" refers to those who are still drunk outside when they are not home at night.

The ghost food stalls in Shu are very lively. When you push a small food truck on the street, put on a few tables, chairs and benches, it becomes a stall. These stalls sell everything.

The fried rice noodles sold in one hand holding the pot and the spatula in the other hand. The iron pot was swayed on the heat, and the golden fried rice was raised high and fell back into the pot.

Next to the fried rice is a spicy hot pot. A pot filled with chili peppers and peppers is bubbling in a mouthful. The stall owner puts the food in the pot into skewers for selection. After the diners have picked up the skewers, the stall owner puts it on a plate and sprinkles a spoonful of chili noodles on it.

There are neatly lined up a row of round wontons on the stall selling wontons. It won’t take long to cook these wontons until they are cooked crystal clear. Pour into a bowl and serve hot soup, add seaweed and shrimp skin. Those who like chili can also add a spoonful of chili oil. Eat one to warm your heart and stomach.

There is also the stall of the kebab. The stall owner fanned a fan while brushing the kebab on the rack with oil, and then sprinkled with cumin, pepper and chili noodles.

The whole street is fragrant, and the whole street is full of fireworks.

The young monk touched his money bag, and finally lowered his head and turned silently toward the suburbs. What does this fireworks have to do with him?

The young monk walked to the suburbs, walked up the dirt road, and turned to a land temple, which was Xiao Wuxiang Temple.

The Little Wuxiang Temple was not small at first, but now it is popular to practice immortality, so there are naturally fewer people who worship Buddha. The Little Wuxiang Temple has not fallen. It used to be no incense, and now it has no popularity at all.

Not only is there no incense, but there is also a sense of dead popularity and bloody smell.

There are six tomb bags in front of the gate of Xiao Wuxiang Temple. A wooden sign is erected on each tomb bag, which says the tomb of Guangci, the abbot of Xiao Wuxiang Temple, the tomb of Guangcong of Xiao Wuxiang Temple, the tomb of Guanghui of Xiao Wuxiang Temple, the tomb of Guangji of Xiao Wuxiang Temple, the tomb of Guanghong of Xiao Wuxiang Temple, and the tomb of Guangjing of Xiao Wuxiang Temple.

The young monk stretched out his jade-white hand and stroked it from the tombstone one by one. The emotions that had been suppressed finally collapsed. He knelt in front of Guangci's tomb and covered his face and cried: "Master, I was the one who harmed you!"

Tears flowed out from his fingers and dripped into the mud, but unfortunately the souls underground could not hear his confession.

Tired of crying, the young monk walked back to the temple silently. The temple was burned by a fire and was already dilapidated. The charred flames left behind the fire covered the bloodyness of the temple.

The young monk took out some straw from the corner and spread it in front of the Buddha's image. The Buddha statue was burned by a fire so that it could not be seen clearly. The young monk curled up under the incense table and covered himself with straw.

At night, the young monk would feel chill all over. He curled up on the straw and shivered, his teeth trembling and giggled.

In the past, when he had a cold, he would be accompanied by a master every night. Although he could not really warm him up, the master covered him with a thick quilt and recited the mantra of meditation beside him.

"Namo, Drumlatan, Doro Yeya."

The young monk chanted the scriptures tremblingly.

"Namo, Ahya, Polujah, Shuboluya."

It seemed as if the master was still by his side while reciting the scriptures like this.

But why is the master still here?

He burned the masters to death with a handful of fire!

He went down the mountain to beg for alms. He was very lucky that day. When he met a family to serve porridge, they saw that he was a monk and gave him a lot of white flour cakes. On the way back with the white flour cake, he saw a beautiful red feather, so he picked it up.

He didn't remember the subsequent events very clearly, and he could only remember some fragments of fragments.

His masters ate very little on weekdays. Perhaps because the cakes were delicious that day, his masters quickly ate the last piece of the cakes.

Which master went to get the last piece of cake first? He couldn't remember it. He only remembered that his masters suddenly stretched out their hands like the last piece of cake. They grabbed the cake and didn't let go.

The young monk watched his masters fight for the last piece of cake.

The young monk only heard a "gurgling" sound, just like someone who was so hungry that he made a sound from his stomach. He looked at Monk Guanghui in horror and bite Monk Guangji's hand.

Blood flowed out from the back of Monk Guangji's hand. I don't know why these monks who never get meat suddenly turned into bloodthirsty beasts.

They gnawed each other's flesh and blood and drank each other's blood from their broken blood vessels.

The young monk blocked Guangci, and Guanghong bit Guangjing's cheek. The young man blocked Guangcong and Guangji, and Guanghui tore Guangci's throat.

Those masters who were once afraid of him being cold and hungry seemed to be unable to hear him or see his crying.

The young monk's eyes were covered with blood, and his nose was filled with pungent blood. But all this was far from over.

Guangjing, who had only half of his face, could tear off other people's flesh and blood and put them into his mouth piece by piece. Guangjing, who had less than half of his face, even half of his teeth were exposed outside. He chewed Guangcong's flesh and blood with molars, and the minced meat fell to the ground through the hollow cheeks between his teeth.

He saw Guangci, whose throat had a hole in his penis, tilted his head and dug out Guanghong's eyes.

He stood among the six masters, who seemed to be unable to see him at all.

He hoped that it was a nightmare. After waking up, he saw his masters chanting scriptures and wiping the incense burner of Xiao Wuxiang Temple.

He hoped that his masters could eat him too so that he would not have to witness this cruel moment.

Until Guangci's head rolled to his feet and stared at him with his eyes, he was no longer compassionate as ever. He knew that all his hope was gone.

There was only blood in front of him, and he felt that the surging breath in his body could no longer be controlled. His evil aura broke through his body and suppressed all violence in a more bloody way.

The evil spirit was like a sharp blade, tearing apart every struggling body, and for a moment, blood and flesh flew everywhere, covering the dilapidated walls of Xiao Wuxiang Temple. The blood and minced meat stuck on the moss in the corner of the wall, on the spotless incense burner, and on the Buddha's fingers picking flowers.

None of those bloody and flesh-filled limbs are complete, and they cannot distinguish between lengths, fatness and thinness, or original color. They are just piece after piece of flesh stacked together.

He dissipated all his evil spirits and prevented the beastly massacre, but in the end he couldn't even fight a corpse. He could only burn these remaining limbs with one fire, allowing the blood on the incense burner to evaporate in the fire, and turning the minced meat on the Buddha's finger into coke in the fire.

The Buddhist temple on which he relies for his survival, his beloved master, his only light and warmth, finally overlapped with his nightmare.

What turned the merciful Buddhist temple into a bloodthirsty hell? The young monk has never understood it.

Until today, he was told that it was only because he brought back a red feather.

The hell of man-eating was his nightmare, why didn’t he bear it? Why did he take away his only light and warmth and let him continue to live in this world?

The young monk curled up on the cold stone brick floor, his fingers digging deep into the cracks of the stone bricks, and blood flowed out from his fingertips along the cracks of the stone.

The young monk's lips were blue, and the breath he exhaled condensed into white mist. He was shaking and couldn't even recite a complete scripture clearly.

In the blur, he saw a pair of white boots with gold edges standing in front of him, and he had no strength to raise his eyes to see who it was.

He hoped that he would catch him to the underworld to atone for his sins. In this way, he would not have to live alone in the world like this.

The man grabbed his arm and carried him on his back. He lay on the man's back and saw the man's long ink hair brushing his cheeks and falling on his shoulders.

In a blur, he saw himself passing by the tombs of several masters.

Sure enough, was he here to take him to the underworld?
Chapter completed!