Your Majesty, I am not worthy

Heavy frost in the middle of the night.

Although the little monk is quite courageous on weekdays, how could he dare to let anyone in in the black and snowy sky, the two pushed and pulled outside the door for a long time, and finally Rong Mu passed out by leaning against the wooden door? The little monk Then he gritted his teeth and moved the person in.

While chanting Amitabha, human life is at stake, while hoping that the abbot will not punish him for missing three meals because of his private behavior when he wakes up tomorrow.

Qingquan Temple never accepts outsiders. Even if those diners who go up the mountain out of breath get incense, they have to go down the mountain before dark.

But the man in front of him is an exception.

The little monk talked with his brothers before. They always said that the abbot does not like people who like to be lazy, but now he feels lazy like Rong Mu, and the abbot will not dislike him.

Sure enough, on the second day, the little monk brought the abbot over. The abbot looked at the man who was still sleeping in a sick state on the couch, and said nothing, just let him take good care of him.

This is the first time that outsiders can stay in Qingquan Temple.

The abbot is not easy to talk,? Although he has been a Buddhist monk for decades, he still has a bad temper. Usually, these young monks rarely see the slightly soft eyes of the abbot.

So the little monk was looking forward to Rong Mu waking up,? Let's see what kind of magical power this man has that can make the abbot soften his heart.

But Rong Mu didn't say a word when he woke up the next day, as if his brain had been burnt out after a high fever.

No matter what questions he asked this overly handsome man, the man kept silent.

What is your name……

Rong Mu opened his beautiful glass eyes, and kept looking at him without speaking.

ask from where...

Rong Mu still looked at him with his eyes open, pursed his thin lips lightly and did not speak.

The little monk thought that this man was just dumb, so he just gave up when he couldn't speak.

I don't know that he has been misunderstood as dumb, but Rong Mu doesn't care.

He was expressionless and kept silent, but he hadn't come out of the noisy official career. Who would have thought that one day he would be the prime minister, and the next day he would have no identity to be disclosed in the world.

But it's all right.

However, he left Hua Huaiyin and Song Du with a safe escape route. Even if Chu Yuheng really wanted to trouble Hua Huaiyin in the future, those things in Song Du's hands could protect Hua Huaiyin's safety.

Thinking of this, Rong Mu was truly relieved now.

No matter whether he lived in the prime minister's mansion or in the palace, although Chu Yuheng comforted him not to worry about the government affairs, his heart was always anxious.

Whoever has a knife hanging from the top of his skull will not be able to cultivate peacefully.

But now Rong Mu seems to have been baptized, and suddenly let go of many things.

Rong Mu thought carefully, probably he had already figured out everything on the night of arson.

At that time, he asked Steward Zhou to put the jade pendant into the house and burn it, just to convince Chu Yuheng that the person in the house was him.

As for where An San went, Rong Mu had already left a set of excuses for Butler Zhou, if Chu Yuheng asked, he would say that An San had a dispute with him, he drove An San out of the mansion, and disappeared.

Although Ansan was ordered by Chu Yuheng to assassinate those who disagreed with the court, but his methods were cruel.

At the least, there are no bones left, and at the worst, the whole family is full of blood.

It can only be said that the set was out of luck, and it just happened when he was planning to escape from the fire.

He designed all kinds of things just to make Chu Yuheng believe that he died in the sea of ​​fire.

Only the dead can make Chu Yuheng feel at ease.

Only by seeing the corpse after death can Chu Yuheng believe that the adviser who holds various secrets of the government is really dead.

Thinking about it this way, Rong Mu couldn't help but sigh.

At the beginning, he was only able to read and write in order to make a name for himself, but unexpectedly, he used it to create a death line for himself.

After setting fire to the prime minister's mansion that night, Rong Mu escaped from the prime minister's mansion along the path, and the men and horses that Boss Zhou had prepared in advance were there to meet him privately outside. In a large box of fruits and vegetables.

Instead of going to Jiangnan to meet Song Du and the others, he went to the barren mountainous area in the easternmost part of Haojing.

Hongming Mountain is the highest and most desolate among the entire Haojing Mountains.

Maybe everything in the world was helping him to leave. The sudden snow was so heavy that the horses and horses could only travel for more than an hour, and the wheel marks on the ground were covered by fresh snow again.

The most difficult thing was that the mountain road was steep and slippery. He stepped on it and tripped countless times along the way.

He climbed up step by step, as if his mind had been purified.

When I went down the mountain, the woods were overcast, and the song went up and down; now when I return, the mountains and fields are roaring, and the snow is not stopping.

Although I can't recall how happy and high-spirited I was when I went down the mountain, but the time of studying alone in the academy, helping Chu Yuheng deal with the difficult days of government affairs, and the short period of two months later, can also be called the most painful period of his life in the first half of his life. The past, as he walked across the white snow towards the top of the mountain, slowly faded the original vivid colors.

It was like drinking a very strange decoction, and those memories that were as fine as sharp needles and occasionally stinging all disappeared.

The rest is the laziness that Rong Mu hasn't had for many years.

With such a good state of mind, when he returned to Qingquan Temple, although Rong Mu had never been shaved, he seemed to be immersed in the Buddha's light, relaxed and at ease.

And a few faint wisps of relief.

But the only thing that is not in Rong Mu's imagination is that he has not met the abbot of the temple yet.

And the abbot of Qingquan Temple must know something, otherwise he would not have arranged for him to study in the academy when he came down the mountain.

Looking at the little monk who was warming up before the stove, Rong Mu took out a piece of paper after drinking the medicine and handed it to the little monk to read.

"What is this?" the little monk muttered, rubbing his hands together before taking it.

"Can you still write?"

The little monk was surprised, and looked carefully, it was written that Rong Mu wanted to visit the abbot.

"Ah... our abbot has a bit of a temper, and he doesn't see people easily." The little monk waved the note in his hand and explained to Rong Mu, after a moment of thought, he added, "But the abbot even let you stay here." It’s in the wing room of the temple, maybe you can really see the abbot, so how about it, I’ll go to the abbot to ask you for you when I’m free.”

Rong Mu smiled gratefully at him.

"You're welcome!" The little monk folded the paper, but soon his eyes widened in surprise, "Such a good handwriting was written by such a weak body like you?"

The little monk originally planned to say the sick child, but he was afraid that Rong Mu would care, so he changed the word.

Rong Mu nodded. He knew that he was good at calligraphy and ink, so he deliberately changed his technique before writing.

But the outsole is still outstanding.

The little monk doesn't have many hobbies, but he only wants to read and practice calligraphy. The word Rong Mu can be regarded as written in his heart, and it is pleasing to the eye no matter how you look at it.

It's a pity that he has never seen Hao Jing's rumored prime minister's calligraphy that is worth a thousand gold. At this moment, he only regards Rong Mu as an ordinary person: "Have you ever read?"

Rong Mu nodded.

He has even read some of them, but it's a pity that many rare books are only available in the Palace Bookstore, and he has no way to get in touch now.

"Then have you ever obtained fame?"

Rong Mu nodded, Sanyuan Jidi, and traveled to Haojing on horseback.

Seeing that this person has studied and obtained fame, the little monk seemed to be lit up.

If there was a little alienation and indifference before, now he is much more enthusiastic: "Then I will take good care of you these days, how about you helping me with my studies?"

Rong Mu thought for a moment, then nodded in response.

He all went back to Qingquan Temple, so he didn't get room and board for nothing.

What's more, this little monk also caught Rong Mu's eyes.

The little monk was about ten years old, and he seemed to have been growing up on the mountain, very simple and childish; like him, it seemed that he was picked up by the abbot as a child and raised in Qingquan Temple.

In fact, there are not a few people who are in a similar situation to him. The abandoned babies picked up by Qingquan Temple are taken in, and when they are brought up, the temple will not force these people to shave or become monks.

When they were about ten years old, the temple would ask these homeless people if they would continue to stay in Qingquan Temple. , the temple did not force him, and let him go.

Thinking about it, he was only ten years old when he first went down the mountain. At that time, he only carried a simple package and stepped on the lush vegetation to go to the secular new world.

Who knew that when he came back again, more than ten years had passed during this period.

It's very cold on the mountain.

Before the sun cleared in the afternoon, thick fog lingered in the valley.

Before noon, Rong Mu promised the little monk to teach him poetry and books to help him go down the mountain to take part in the scientific examination in the future, and the little monk brought his own books at noon.

The number is not much, only three or five, but the pages are all crumpled, which shows that the little monk is very serious in private.

Rong Mu finished reading a few books on the bed in advance, rubbed the corners of his eyes that were a little sore, leaning on the medicine pillow and blindfolded, drowsy.

In winter, with the stove burning, it is also a pleasure to be lazy and take a nap on the couch.

In the evening, the little monk came to bring him food.

The little monk was still wearing a dusty monk's robe, his head was as bare as a shelled egg, but his eyes were extremely wet and red, and his curled eyelashes were stuck together.

The depression was beyond words, Rong Mu couldn't help but keep an eye on it.

The young monk who was almost ten years old took out the vegetarian meals one by one, and then, regardless of whether Rong Mu could understand or not, he lay down at the table and confide:

"The person I admired died..."

Rong Mu, who stood up squarely, stopped smoothing the folds of his winter robe, and for a moment didn't know how to persuade him.

He has always had a hard time dealing with the world.

"Prime Minister, he lives in such a big prime minister's mansion, don't he have servants to look after him at night?! What a wonderful person he is, and now he is burned to death."

The little monk's eyes were red, but Rong Mu was stunned.

Hongming Mountain is surrounded by several low-lying mountains, there are almost no roads, and the trails are winding and hidden. Because of this, few people come and go to Hongming Mountain, and the news spread a little more slowly.

As a result, the prime minister's mansion, which was raging in the dust, was in trouble, and when the news of the death of a prime minister in a country reached the vicinity of Hongming Mountain, it was already so many days late.

Rong Mu never thought that there were people in the temple far away on the mountain who cared about him so much.

He had never met the little monk before, so a person who has never had a relationship would feel sad for his death. What about Chu Yuheng in the palace...

Will be sad, sad, or even leave a tear for him?

Rong Mu's fingers holding the bowl were slightly tight, and he was suddenly chilled by his own thoughts.

Why did he suddenly think of Chu Yuheng again?

Ever since he hit Huodun, he has never thought of Chu Yuheng again, as if this name was buried deep in the ground.

He didn't dare to think about it at the beginning, but now he doesn't bother to think about it, and even more disdains to dig out the name of Chu Yuheng himself to show his dullness over the years.

That Rong Mu had already died in the flames of the Prime Minister's Mansion, and now this person is just an idler with no worries in the world.

Rong Mu laughed jokingly, and swallowed a small mouthful of mushrooms in his lips with a movement of his Adam's apple.

But the little monk was still sad: "After I heard the news, I recited Buddhist scriptures for him for more than an hour to save him. But I heard that he is alone and has no relatives. Death, funeral, funeral, burial, sacrifice, if it is not the emperor Order a generous burial, and no one can arrange for that person's death."

The little monk was still saying that the prime minister's mansion would continue to be used, the prime minister's funeral would be grand, and the emperor would offer his condolences in person. When he was present, his red eyes were sad, and the emperor and his ministers loved each other deeply.

When he heard that "Rong Mu"'s bones were in the prime minister's mansion for burial, the emperor offered his condolences in person, and no one saw that Rong Mu was inexplicably cold.Chu Yuheng should have breathed a sigh of relief when he lost his life. After all, Chu Yuheng died "accidentally" without getting his hands dirty.

But Chu Yuheng still has red eyes and sad eyes?

Rong Mu's eyes were clear and cold, perhaps Chu Yuheng was still trying to save face.

How could he cry for himself.

Rong Mu was a little thankful that he could do whatever he wanted. As far as he was concerned, it was better for him to fake his own death than for Chu Yuheng to turn his head and raise a knife at him.

That's fine, he has settled everything calmly and left the muddy waters of the court.

Sure enough, after leaving Chu Yuheng, he used it more every day than before.

A small bowl of rice, a portion of tofu with mushrooms, and a portion of clear soup with radish and swallow.

Just full.

While Rong Mu was cleaning up the dishes after finishing, he was still thinking about how to coax people.

After all, the news of his death made the little monk so sad, and the little monk really said that he would continue to chant sutras for "Rong Mu" in the future.

With a little tenderness in his heart, the corners of Rong Mu's mouth slightly raised, comforting people with a helpless look: "Everyone has his own destiny, maybe his time has come."

The little monk was still trying to hold back his breath and not to cry, when he reacted to the clear male voice of the person on the couch, he immediately raised his head and looked at Rong Mu as if he had seen a ghost.

"Aren't you a mute?"

It's still too cold to just sit, and Rong Mu is already on the couch.

The quilt in the temple is not good, it's hard to cover the body, Rong Mu lifted the quilt up, covered his chilling chest, and then said softly: "I'm not dumb at all."

"Then why didn't you speak before?" the little monk murmured.

Seeing the young monk's wounded face and how he was being cheated, Rong Mu couldn't help restraining his teasing eyes, and explained in detail: "It was snowing up the mountain that night, and my throat was cold, and it hurt when I spoke."

His throat was hurt by the cold when he went up the mountain at night a few days ago, and he was hoarse and painful when he spoke, so he simply didn't talk.

After all, the little monk is shallow, so he will believe whatever Rong Mu says.

Especially when he interrupted him like this, the little monk rubbed his red and swollen eyes, as if he had barely gotten out of the news of the man's death.

But in Rong Mu's eyes, the little monk was very sad.

This man cares about him...

Pursing his lips, Rong Mu sighed and kneaded his browbones and bridge of nose, and coaxed people with a slightly negotiating tone: "Don't you want to study? I know a little bit."

"really?"

The little monk was startled and suspicious, and immediately put on a tiger's face in disbelief: "But can you?"

Rong Mu, who has never been questioned about his knowledge for many years: ...

After watching Rong Mu finish drinking the medicine, the little monk pestered Rong Mu to talk about the book.

Originally, the little monk didn't have much hope, but when he brought up his own deaths these years, and the clear man in front of him could explain all the doubts, the little monk was so shocked that he couldn't close his mouth.

This person is lazy as soon as he arrives in the temple, so why does he seem to be a different person as soon as he gets the booklet.

A little less ascetic and elegant, but Ling Li's temperament is obvious, and there is still a sense of calmness.

The candle burned quickly, and when there was only a small half left, the little monk reluctantly closed the book.

He has always been frugal, and he has learned a lot today, but he doesn't save enough candles.

At that moment, the little monk packed up a few thin old books, watched Rong Mu wash up with water and then lay back on the couch, then the little monk blew out the candle and prepared to leave.

Before closing the door, the little monk seemed to think of something, he stopped and turned his head towards the dark room and said: "I forgot to tell you, the abbot asked you to meet him tomorrow morning."

"Thank you."

With a "squeak" the door closed, blocking the snow on the mountain top.

Everything in the temple is incomparable to the Prime Minister's Mansion, and even less to the radiant Shuyun Palace. The dark room is still burning with charcoal. This charcoal fire is not as expensive as the Prime Minister's Mansion. More intense, a little disturbing.

But from Rong Mu's point of view, everything here is just right.

He was wrapped in the quilt in the temple, and none of his affairs had anything to do with Chu Yuheng.

Therefore, Rong Mu rarely felt relaxed.

In the darkness, with the howling mountain wind, Rong Mu's mind still had the image of the little monk walking away happily with the book just now.

In fact, he also had a choice.

If he had chosen to stay in Qingquan Temple to become a monk when he was ten years old, perhaps he would not have gone down the mountain to meet Chu Yuheng early in the morning, and would have treated Chu Yuheng as a light in the days to come, weathering the wind and rain, regardless of life and death.

If he did it all over again, he might be like a little monk——

Every morning, I knock on the wooden fish, picky about the tasteless vegetarian meal at noon, and when I recite the scriptures at night, I will be scolded by the stern abbot for not being distracted.

But he should not be scolded, after all, he was smart since he was a child.

But why did he fall into the hands of Chu Yuheng who was so smart...

Rong Mu had no choice but to smile bitterly, these fantasies were nothing but vain.

Anger heart heavy, create a lot of karma.

Where can he return to Buddhism now.