Chapter 432 Bodhi Book Without Tree

This is the Dengtian Grottoes located in Qingguo. The mountains are like forests, lined up one after another. The rocks are full of vicissitudes and folds, like old faces.

Maybe it's because Qingguo sounds a little like the State of Qin, or because there are temples and monks in Qingguo, which is far away from Da Kuang, or because he really has no way to go. That year, the three dynasties hunted and killed the bottomless cave on a large scale. He narrowly escaped. He knew that Da Kuang had no place for him, so he traveled a long distance, avoided the pursuit of immortals and demons of the Three Dynasties again and again, walked through the desert hills, flew across the mountains and seas, and came to Qingguo at the intersection of the east and west. It was also rare that were not included in the bag of the three dynasties. The boundary of.

The people of Qingguo have been moved to the Three Dynasties, leaving ancient temples and monks who can only read scriptures.

"Amitabha Buddha."

Out of the cave, the young monk whispered the Buddha.

The sound of the Buddha is like a bell, swinging far away and directly into the old temple.

There were monks in the temple who recited the scriptures and heard the sound of the Buddha. They all rose in awe and worshipped in the direction of the cave. Not only the monks, but also the birds, animals, insects and fish in the forest stopped. The birds fell on the branches, and the fish raised their heads from the river and worshipped in the direction of the cave.

For the monks of Qingguo Heritage Temple, in addition to the old abbot who don't know how long they have lived, what they admire most is the ascetic monks in Dengtian Grottoes. Every year, he comes to the temple to practice meditation for a while, and distinguishes the method with the old abbot in public. The two people are like hanging in the river, explaining the Zen Tao and the sky, which makes the monks intoxicated and admired it. Often after discerning the method, the ascetic monk in a white robe who is not stained with dirt will go to the heaven cave to retreat for a year, until the next year, he will appear in the temple again.

The elderly monks died one after another, and the young monks also became old monks in the unseen years. Except for the occasional foot monks passing by the hanging temple, no new monks were added to the temple. To this day, in the largest temple in Qingguo, there are only dozens of aging monks left. I don't know when they will be summoned to the Western blis by the Buddha, but their biggest wish in their hearts is to see the host and the ascetic in the rest of the earth.

The Buddhists should not have had the idea of winning or losing, but they are just monks, not Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. If the monks in the world can be crazy, what kind of Buddha do they want?

"Amitabha Buddha."

The same Buddha's trumpet sounded again, but this time it was in the temple.

The old monks who recited the scriptures looked at the young monks in white robes in surprise and looked at each other in constersantly.

"Amitabha, the master has misremembered the date, and the period of one year has not yet arrived."

A monk bowed back and kindly reminded him.

The young monk's face was solemn, and he smiled faintly at the old monk who opened his mouth: "The law is no different from the law. Isn't it a big mistake to love yourself and pay attention to it?"

The old monk was stunned and speechless. The rest of the old monks lowered their heads one by one, meditated hard, and understood the meaning of the master's words.

"I never said it. It's just that you think too much." Seeing that the monks fell into meditation, the young monk said, "If the heart is bound, it will be bound, and if the heart is not bound, it will be free."

The monks suddenly became cheerful when they heard the words. The old monk who had opened his mouth blushed with shame, whispered the Buddha, and worshipped the young monks with their hands together.

At this moment, a sound of Zen came from the depths of the temple.

"Although the flowers are planted from the ground, peanuts are planted from the ground. If no one is planted, the flowers will not be born. Wuhua, you have bound their hearts, but you complain that they can't get rid of them. You take the cause so that they can't see the fruit. How can they be free?

"Abbot!"

"The abbot is also out of the customs!"

A group of old monks looked happy and couldn't help shouting out.

Before the abbot and the ascetic monk opened the altar, they began to distinguish the method. How could they not make them ecstatic?

In a blink of an eye, a short figure came out of the temple. If there was an outsider here, he would be surprised. The monk who was called as an abbot by the old monk turned out to be a child of four or five years old. Seeing that the abbots are getting younger and younger year by year, the old monks are no different, just like those who saw that year they were full of blood but were not as handsome. The color is empty and can't be phaseless, like a dream bubble.

Looking at the abbot, Wuhua's palms were closed, and the Buddha's name was low. When he raised his head, he shook his head and sighed, "I am a bodhi tree, and my heart is like a mirror. I brush it frequently. Don't make dust. If I am dust, I only complain that they can't sweep away the Zen heart. If the Zen heart is dirty, it's not as good as the mirror.

When the words fell, the old monks added a little shame.

"Abbot, what Wuhua said is very true. After all, we don't have wisdom roots, can't be a bodhi tree, and can't sweep away all the dust in our hearts."

He recited the Buddha's name, and an old monk was ashamed to say to the host.

"Do not panic, just listen to me." The child-like abbot smiled, walked up solemnly, and said loudly, "Bodhi has no tree, and the mirror is not a platform. There is nothing to do. Where can it cause dust?"

"Amitabha!"

The monks put their hands together, with gratitude on their faces. They suddenly became enlightened, and then looked at Wuhua one after another, but they were curious about how he could distinguish.

But he saw Wuhua looking far away from the west, and his eyes were long and far-reaching, as if there was something very attractive to him.

The monks looked at Wu Hua's eyes curiously, but they didn't see anything.

"Where is the Buddha?"

Wuhua suddenly asked.

All the monks were stunned, but they didn't expect that Master Wuhua would give up and continue to fight with the abbot. This is something that has never happened before. Could he admit defeat?

Only the abbot of the relic temple faintly found something wrong. He hurriedly read out a Buddhist sound, like a headbutt, and it exploded in Wuhua's ear.

smiled, and Wuhua turned his head: "It's useless. I've made up my mind."

"All sentient beings can become Buddhas. They are also Buddha Bodhisattva. He raised his finger to the elderly disciples, the abbot said.

The old monks turned pale with fear one by one. They retreated and shook their hands one after another, saying that the abbot could not use it.

Host? What is the host? Who can describe it? What does the host look like? The young abbot asked.

Old monks, look at me, I look at you, speechless.

"If the abbot looks like something, what's the difference between him and pigs, dogs, cattle and sheep? Similarly, although the Buddha Bodhisattva can't see it, it remains in Hui's heart."

The young abbot said, looking at Wuhua.

"Hahaha..."

In the surprised eyes of the monks, Master Wuhua, who had always been solemn and gentle, looked up and laughed, revealing an indescribable look between his eyebrows.

"One hundred and thirty-nine years ago, you left me here, saying that you wanted to join Buddhism with me, wait for the Buddha to cross, go to the West for bliss, and achieve the throne. But I have been waiting for 139 years, but I have never noticed the existence of the Buddha in your mouth. Where is the bliss in the West? Where is the Buddha? If you only stay in the Zen heart and everyone can become a Buddha, why wait for him to come?

He lowered his head, and a trace of enchanting light flashed in his beautiful eyes, which made the monks frightened.

"I have been waiting for them for 139 years, waiting for them to kill demons and kill demons and universal all sentient beings. But if they really exist, why don't they come to us?

The breeze blew through the dry old trees in the temple, and the yellowed leaves floated three or four pieces, but it could no longer sweep away the broken Zen heart without the mirror.

He didn't notice the existence of Buddha, but he could hear the call of his former companions. He knew that as long as he came out of the Heavenly Cave, he would turn back to the demon monk who was full of killing. But since there was no Buddha, he still wanted to be a monk.

Bodhi has no tree, and the mirror is not a platform. There is nothing in the first place. Where does it cause dust?

"Guys, goodbye."

With a smile, he waved his hand to a group of monks facing the Qingguo Heritage Temple. Wuhua walked south, and his solemn and gentle temperament disappeared. Every step was taken, his tyrannical atmosphere hidden under the heart of Zen was deep.

"Wohua, wait a minute."

The call of the abbot of Qingguo came to his ear, and he laughed dumbly.

He walked forward, walking heavily and firmly. After waiting for so many years and faith for so many years, he has become a master of Buddhist scriptures and meditation, but he has not waited for his conversion.

The blood flowing in his body was ready to move. He didn't want to wait any longer. Until today, he finally had an excuse to return to that land.

At this moment, a panicked shout sounded.

"It's dead!"

"The abbot was summoned to the Western Bliss!"

"Buddha manifests the spirit, and I am merciful!"

His body shook, and Wuhua stopped. He squeezed his lips tightly and looked back.

The firelight not far away seemed to burn on the other side far away from him. The sound of the Buddha sounded from the end of the sky, and the bright flowers were gorgeous. The Buddhas and Dharma, the Cimei Bodhisattva, were flying over the Qingguo Heritage Temple and reciting the scriptures.

The young abbot sat on the firelight, looked at Wuhua, read out his last Buddha name in the earthly world, and then gradually disappeared. Only the jacket burned in the firelight, turned into dust, drifted away with the wind, and quietly fell on Wuhua's heart.

It turns out that becoming a Buddha is only between one thought, crossing and not crossing, and only at the moment of picking flowers.

But I am a Buddha. Why do you want to give up me and cross him?

Just because the blood flowing in my body is dirty and dirty in your eyes?

Wuhua laughed so loudly that tears flowed out.

After waiting for so long, he also waited for the choice made by the invisible Buddha.

In the sound of the Buddha's horns of the old monks of Qingguo Heritage Temple, he flew south without looking back. When he passed through the Tiantang, he raised his arms and flew high the skulls of the immortal demons he killed on the way, stringed into a shocking Buddha beads.

"My Buddha, I will come to Lingshan in the west next year, and I will definitely find you to distinguish the method."

With a low smile, Wuhua said so.

In the year, the last abbot of Qingguo Heritage Temple died and flew to bliss. In the same year, a demon monk went south.

In the future, the Qingguo Heritage Temple will be completely decadent. The old monks are waiting for the Buddha to come, but no one will wait. Maybe one day, the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas will come to this land, but by then, the monks will have already become dead bones.