Heaven is fearless

"Who is that person?" Busheng asked with his eyes wide open. After all, he was a child, full of curiosity about the outside world, and he knew that the person in the car was not an ordinary person after hearing Fanxing's description.

The white-clothed monk who was standing outside the car heard this question and lowered his eyes meekly. According to common sense, Brahmacharya should not know the identity of the person in front of him at this moment, but unfortunately, he did.

The last prince of the Shao Wei Dynasty, who had died for many years in normal history, was respectful and corporal, and liked to promote scholars from poor families. Although the person in front of him was not from a poor family, when he was noticed by the last prince, he was also in a state of embarrassment.

Fan Xing who was sitting in the Pure Land Buddhist School and Fan Xing who was standing in front of Xizhi Gate a hundred years ago put their palms together at the same time and recited a Buddha's mantra in a low voice.

The monk sitting cross-legged on the futon replied softly: "He is the Minister of the Household Department of the Chu and Wei Dynasties, and Yan leans on the railing."

The monk standing in the twilight morning light declined the other party's invitation: "Thank you, Lord Yan, for your invitation. This poor monk is only here to see the scenery of Kyoto, so I don't want to bother you."

Yan leaned on the railing without forcing, left her address and name card, and signaled her attendants to drive into the city gate.

Looking at the back of the carriage going away, Fan Xing felt a little vague sigh in his heart.

It turned out that the youthful young man who only followed the crown prince's lead in everything in the past turned out to be like this when he matured...

As the law says, the time of the two places of time and space runs side by side in the eyes of the two holy worlds, but the history of Chu and Wei has long been the established result of the past in terms of the holy world of Pure Land Buddhism. On the straight road before the capital, while sitting in the clear air of the mountains, he told stories to Busheng. If he was not the way of heaven, the impact of splitting his soul would be enough to make him bleed to death in an instant.

The sitting monk twiddled the Buddhist beads and felt the novel experience of creating history and reading history in parallel. The walking monk also stopped and looked up at the buildings on both sides following his heart.

Different from the large-scale construction of high-rise buildings by the Wu people, the buildings in Kyoto, although exquisite, still belong to the category of mortals. The buildings are up to three stories high, with a mixture of luxurious restaurants and narrow and dark pancake stands, and the high and low buildings are crowded and close to each other. The long street is full of pedestrians who come and go in plain clothes and dusty clothes.

Teahouses and restaurants hang up cloth covers, and hang a signboard on the door face at a short notice. Simple small businesses simply use white cloth to draw abstract patterns. There are so many illiterate people, and looking at pictures is their main way to identify shops.

Fanxing carefully identified the direction, remembered the surrounding scenery, and then walked in. Most of the shops were not open in the early morning, but the vegetable market was bustling. Women with arm climbing arms skillfully stopped in front of each stall with vegetable baskets. Shuttle, with a shrewd look on his face, the way of weighing vegetables is as sophisticated as an old court who has been playing with antiques for decades.

In such an atmosphere full of smoke and fire in the market, a monk in black and leisurely clothes looks extraordinarily abrupt, especially the faces of the people around him are more or less rough and aged by hard life, only he has a straight back , with a beautiful face, just like a wealthy young man who doesn't eat fireworks.

A girl in a hurry was pulling out from a vegetable stall, her strides were a little bigger, and she bumped into Fan Xing head-on.

The young monk hurriedly apologized, obviously it was not his fault, his whole face was flushed, his eyelashes fluttered, and his voice was full of panic and nervousness: "Amitabha, I'm sorry for the benefactor, the poor monk—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the girl quickly raised her head and glanced at him. She was wearing a long dress of simple cloth with fringes removed from the wash. The blue-gray kudzu clothes wrapped the girl's slender figure, and her long black hair was tied up in a hastily A braid of big braids hangs down her back, her face is ordinary, but she has a pair of sensitive and flexible eyes like a bird.

She only glanced at Fanxing, seemed startled by the monk's appearance, lost her mind for a brief moment, then quickly pushed away Fanxing and stood still, closing the bamboo basket slung between her arms with one hand .

Fan Xing took a look at the bamboo basket. This kind of basket was hand-woven by the women in the family. It was tied up with bamboo strips one by one. It was very useful. This bamboo basket was very old, and some of the bamboo strips were worn out. With sharp corners, the top of the basket was covered with a rag of invisible color, covering the contents of the basket, and Fanxing only saw a shriveled head of cabbage.

Noticing where Fan Xing's eyes fell, the girl suddenly took a step back, said "no" vaguely, turned her head and squeezed into the crowd to run away.

Fanxing stood there for a while, touched his waist, and there was already an empty space.

Hearing this, Busheng sat up straight in surprise: "Is that girl a thief?"

Fanxing thought for a while, nodded, and shook his head again.

Standing in the street with people coming and going, the monk who had his purse stolen looked around in confusion, leaned on his magic wand to think for a while, took a deep breath, and stopped a middle-aged man passing by him .

He closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and recited the typed manuscript in one breath: "The poor monk Brahma, I accidentally ran into a female benefactor here just now. The female benefactor lost something. The poor monk wanted to return it." Give it to her, she is about 17 years old, she wears a braid and wears a blue-gray linen skirt, does the donor know the female donor?"

The man was pulled by him, and before he could react, the monks in front of him slammed him on the head in a row, and he only had time to catch the last sentence "Do you know the female benefactor", so he opened his mouth: "Huh?"

Fanxing: "..."

The anger accumulated in the poor monk's chest suddenly dissipated, and even his clasped hands trembled, making him look weak and helpless: "Poor monk...poor monk..."

The caught man had an impatient look on his face, if it wasn't for Fanxing's well-dressed appearance, he might have scolded him and left.

But the more he stared at Fanxing, the more speechless Fanxing became, and his whole body began to tremble. He heard a "puchi" from the side, and the old fortune teller sitting behind a fortune-telling booth moaned with his withered knuckles. Shaking his thinning scalp: "You little monk is very interesting. Come on, the little old man knows the girl you mentioned. If you do the math, the little old man will tell you where to find the girl."

The middle-aged man looked in the hatchback, pulled out his sleeve from Fanxing's hand, cursed something, turned and left.

Fan Xing also respectfully bowed to his back, and the fortune teller looked at him with great interest and bowed solemnly: "Little monk, I'm leaving early!"

Fanxing looked back at him, and finally had a question he could answer: "Rites cannot be discarded."

He answered very seriously.

The fortune teller waved to him: "Come, come, let the old man tell you a fortune teller, and the old man will tell you where the girl is."

Fanxing didn't move, and his expression was as sincere as ever: "But the poor monk is penniless now."

The fortune teller smacked his lips, sucked the loose flesh on his cheek, and showed a toothache expression: "You are not a monk from Fanyin Temple, are you?"

Fanxing thought for a while: "The poor monk travels around, and the order is at the Fanyin Temple."

The fortune teller sighed: "Well, apart from the monks of Fanyin Temple, there is no monk in any other temple who is so poor. Then let the old man sympathize with you and give you some free news."

He rolled his eyes and pointed to the street on one side: "Go in that fork, and look for the third gatekeeper. The girl's younger brother should be running errands there at this point. You go, just say to find Lord Jiu, and you will be sure. "

After listening to Brahma, he nodded and saluted him: "Amitabha, thank you Taoist priest for letting me know."

Wrinkles around the eyes of the old man who was called Taoist priest for the first time piled up. He was just a fortune-telling guise to swindle money for food, and he could even do strange things like calling monks to tell fortunes by holding the name of a Taoist priest. , this is not a serious person.

And Brahma has a natural personality, and he didn't think there was anything wrong with being called by a Taoist priest to tell a fortune. He thanked him and left happily.

He originally wanted to play tricks on this poor monk, but he couldn't bear to see him being so easy to deceive. After thinking for a long time, he simply comforted himself, anyway, it was just a wrongful journey, and he would not suffer any losses.

Fan Xing honestly followed the guidance of an experienced fortune teller and walked into the fork in the road. As soon as he turned here, he felt that there seemed to be something wrong.

The street just now was bustling with people, and it was a lively scene, but this road is sparsely populated, and the buildings on both sides are mostly three-story buildings, which are beautifully built, with high eaves, jingling bells, and vermilion doors. There are light red or pink gauze wrapped around the pillars, most of the buildings have their doors closed, and a few of them are open. A tired man stands at the door, seeing Fan walking over, his eyes widen and he feels drowsy. remove.

"Monk?!"

Several men put their heads together and murmured, looking at Fanxing from time to time, and then there was a strange laughter.

Fanxing raised his head and counted the faces. Most of these buildings were dedicated to receiving wealthy households, and there were plaques hanging on the doors. He looked over one by one, Xunfang Building, Nianchun Pavilion, Nuanxiang Building, Yanchun Building...

These names all had an ambiguous and weird atmosphere. The monk in black and plain clothes looked around, and a small question mark appeared above his head.

The plaque on the door of the third house read Nianchun Pavilion. This house happened to be open. Two young men in green clothes helped a hangover young man stumble across the threshold, and helped him into a carriage outside the door. .

"Master! The master is waiting for you at home, Madam will not be able to stop him...you wake up on the road..." A servant was so worried that he put his master on the car, jumped on and shook the reins to drive away. Horse, "Drive!"

A young woman with disheveled clothes suddenly chased out from the door. She stood at the door and watched for a while, with a dull expression on her face and disheveled temple hair. Inside the building, a pair of washed white cloth shoes came into her sight.

A clear and gentle voice rang out: "Female benefactor, may I ask if there is a son named Jiuye here? The poor monk has something important to ask him, can I ask the benefactor to make it easier for me?"

Yaochun raised her head in a daze, and the monk standing in front of her lowered her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes, her beautifully shaped eyes were half closed, her figure was thin and tall, like a handful of handsome green bamboos, and the plain and poor white clothes on him seemed to be With an ethereal taste, there is a mole of Guanyin on the center of his brow, and the faint halo of the rising sun is behind his back, like a Bodhisattva who redeems suffering from the light and comes to save her.

The woman pinched to pieces by the rouge powder looked at the clean monk in front of him. He didn't look at her, his eyes fell on the ground, but that look, clearly looking at the dust, seemed to be looking at the humble her. Her soreness could no longer be suppressed, she bent down deeply to cover her face, and burst into tears.

After Fanxing said a word, the other side burst into tears, completely bewildered the young monk, his eyes widened in panic, his fingers holding the Buddhist beads turned white, he looked around in horror, and then turned his gaze away. On the woman who was crying out of breath in front of her, her voice was trembling: "Female... female benefactor?!"

As soon as Yaochun heard his voice, it was as if she heard her mother calling her when she was still young. The two voices were not alike at all, but that kind of gentle and gentle, like a big hand, tightly pinched the pulsation in her chest. The piece of meat: "Mother... Mother..."

Fanxing: "..."

? ? ? ?

When we meet, we call mother... this...

He completely panicked, stood up and squatted down at a loss, trying to look at Yaochun's face in a very vague manner, but the other party covered his face, and could only see big teardrops dripping from his fingers, and he couldn't see it at all. Clear her expression.

"Bodhisattva, are you here to save me?" Yaochun cried hoarsely, and suddenly stretched out a wet hand to grab the corner of Fanxing's robe, and raised a face with messy makeup and messy temples, looking beautiful Her face was covered with tears and the makeup was really ugly, but there was a burning light in her eyes.

Fan Xing was stunned again by her question like a flying fairy: "Poor monk——"

Before he could finish his words, there was a short sound of wind in the door, and something rushed out, rushing straight to the door in front of Fanxing. The weak monk immediately flicked his sleeves, and stepped back to protect the woman in front of him. With the other hand, he raised his magic wand and struck the object precisely, knocking it down in the air.

With a "pop", the thing fell to the ground, and Fan Xing took a closer look, only to realize that it was just a heavy rag that had been soaked with water.

Sewage with a strange smelly smell slid down the top of the magic wand, Fanxing looked at his wand, turned around to say something, a figure rushed out of the door, and rushed towards Fanxing like a small whirlwind , and sternly shouted: "Hey! You cheated money, cheated sex, cheated my little sister Yaochun, and cried. Look at my young master, I will smash your ass and make you a beautiful girl from now on!"

Fan Xing moved his legs sideways at the right time, avoiding a claw coming towards him between his legs, and easily caught the little figure who rushed over his head and was about to fall down the steps, grabbed the collar and held it with ease. in front of myself.

It was a child about eight or nine years old, wearing a coarse cloth short shirt, his face was dirty and gray, covering his facial features, only a pair of eyes were like morning stars, bright and open, with a sly and shrewd smile, He failed to succeed with one blow, and immediately realized that the person in front of him was very good at martial arts, and he was not able to deal with him. He smiled and begged for mercy before he even saw the person clearly: "Oh, my lord, I have eyes but don't know Taishan. I recognized the wrong person." Lah, you adults don't remember villains—"

Fan Xing lifted his collar and twisted him to the front. While the child was begging for mercy, the hand hidden by his side raised his hand quickly, and was caught by Fan Xing again.

That hand held two chopsticks, and the direction of the attack was still unspeakable.

Fanxing: "..."

The child also saw Fanxing's face clearly this time, he was dumbfounded for a while, and his voice was frightened: "Monk?!"

He looked at Yaochun, who was still sobbing because the situation was developing so fast and hadn't realized it, and then at Fanxing who was holding his hand. The child's cunning begging for mercy that he had just pretended to be for all of a sudden disappeared. His eyes were full of hate: "You are a bald donkey, are you also learning to do those nasty things? Buddhism is so pure, it can accommodate such a clean-faced dirty thing like you?!"

Yaochun was so frightened by the child's words that he hiccupped, and then realized something was wrong: "Wait a minute! It's not what you think——"

The child gave her a fierce look: "You're trying to lie to me again! Last time you shielded that stinky man the same way! I said I would beat him up but you refused, so what's going on with this bald donkey this time!"

Yaochun's voice was still crying: "Master just passed by and asked me a question..."

The child dragged his voice: "Oh...ask a question, what did he ask?"

Yaochun opened her mouth: "Ask me...Ask me..."

The child raised his brows, nodded with a sneer, with a look of "you make it up, you make it up, and I'll watch you make it up".

Yaochun was tongue-tied, what the master asked her just now, she forgot all about it when she cried.

Fanxing tried his best not to stutter and summarize his purpose of coming in short sentences, and added in a good-tempered manner: "The poor monk wants to ask if Master Jiu is here."

Yaochun and the child turned their gazes to him at the same time, and after a while, Yaochun hiccupped, calmed down, and said, "Jiujiu, I'm looking for you."

The child suddenly jumped into a rage, the whole person jumped up like a fish, the roots of the ears were so red that they could bleed, and one hand was grabbed by Fanxing, and he writhed around: "I said, don't call me that name again! "