Nightfall Chapter 113: The carriage that fell into the rice paddies
Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: The Carriage Falling into the Terraces
Li Qingshan responded indifferently: "Since you are in the red dust, how can you not be disturbed by the red dust?"
The boxer monk slowly raised his head to look at him, and suddenly said something irrelevant: "Since your majesty is in the palace, why are you not in the palace?"
"The rules are dead objects. People cannot be held by dead objects. Your Majesty spends most of the time in the palace. Should I be held in the palace every day? You can hide in Wanyan Pagoda every day to practice sutras. , I, the master of the South Gate of Haotian Dao, also have a lot to do, not to mention who in Chang'an City can be against your Majesty?"
"The South Gate of Haotian Dao..." The Huangyang monk repeated it softly, with an inexplicable smile on his face, and said softly: "I have abruptly separated from the Haotian Dao by the South Gate. , I really don’t know how you can resist the anger that gushes out of the eyes of those great priests every year when you return to Xiling."
Li Qingshan proudly said: "I closed my eyes and sat on the temple, not looking at the old faces of those teachers, uncles and uncles, deaf, standing in the peach mountain without peach trees, not listening to the solemn bells of the deep mountains. ."
"Nanmen pays a lot of silver every year, what else do they want? Is it possible that they can really set me as an apostate and punish me? Then the veterans on Xiling must first kill me. Tang Empire."
The Huang Yang monk smiled and said nothing.
The South Gate of Haotian Dao is the product of the balance between the Tang Empire and the Xiling Temple. It actually represents the greatest victory of the Tang Empire in the secular and religious war. Every day in the world, the Taoist sages of Xiling face It's going to be embarrassing for a day. He is practicing Buddhism, and it is really not suitable for expressing too many opinions on this kind of thing.
"Suzaku woke up last night."
Li Qingshan pulled the conversation back to the previous topic, and looked at Monk Huang Yang coldly and said: "Whether I want to disturb myself or not, I have disturbed many people. As a Datang teacher, it is impossible for me to face the imperial court’s questions. No answer."
Monk Huang Yang looked at the Buddhist scriptures on the case in front of him, looked at the bright red ink stains on the scriptures moistened with cinnabar, and responded after a moment of silence: "So you are looking for me to find the answer?"
"Before Suzaku woke up, a famous swordsman in Nancheng had his head cut off."
Li Qingshan walked around the small wooden table, and walked to the side of the tower in two steps. He looked out of the tower through the tiny glass window, passed the heat of the forest, and landed in the steaming south city.
"The dead sword master used to be a clerical appraiser of the military department. Few people knew that he inherited from Xiling, and his sword art came from my Haotian Taoist. This is not the key to the problem. I did not promote the teacher to the Empire for the uncles of Xiling. I am interested in asking sin. What I am interested in is that the sword master pierced the murderer’s coat with the sword before his death, but the murderer did not bleed.
Listening to these words, the Huangyang monk thoughtfully responded, "A strong man at the pinnacle of martial arts?"
Li Qingshan turned his head, put his sleeves behind him, and quietly looked at the monk and said: "It is impossible for the empire's martial arts powerhouses to take action. The martial arts powerhouses of the Southern Jin Dynasty Dahe Yanguo and other places are under the supervision of the court. So this possibility is extremely small, so I wonder if the ascetic monks of the Moon Kingdom sneaked in and went crazy."
"So you come to ask me." The boxer monk smiled and repeated what he had said before.
"Legend of the world, you have been to the unknowable place on the wasteland. I know this is not a legend, but a real thing. In that case, I will certainly ask about the ascetics of the Moon Kingdom. You."
"I am from the Pingzhou Mansion of Datang." The Huangyang monk narrowed a smile, and replied quietly: "And I don't believe that the monks of the Moon Kingdom will venture into the city of Chang'an and kill people for no reason."
"Then how do you explain the bloodlessness on the murderer's clothes?" Li Qingshan asked, looking at his eyes.
The boxer monk's eyes were calm, and he slowly replied: "Suzaku woke up with anger, and the breath of heaven and earth was an unknown fire. Its fire was enough to incinerate everything, let alone some sticky blood stains? Maybe the murderer was already. Become ashes."
This Datang imperial brother, a monk who is adept in the Dharma, is really good, and he guessed the truth in an understatement.
However, this does not fully explain all the problems.
Li Qingshan frowned and asked, "Even if you and I do your best, I probably can only make the painting lazily open his eyes and take a look. How many people in this world can believe that the Suzaku wakes up and gets angry? If it's really those legends Senior, why did he come to Chang'an to kill? Why did he risk arousing Suzaku’s anger? Why is there no sign?"
The Huangyang monk smiled and said: "It is still the same sentence, the gods left by the previous generations of saints have their own true meaning between the movement and the quiet. Where is the understanding of us ordinary people? The senior who may have been to Chang'an City He really has transcended the realm of life-knowing, and possesses the power of apocalypse or undisturbed thought, then his purpose is not what you and I can guess."
Sage, divine object, apocalypse, and no distance, these words echo in the cramped space at the top of the Wanyan Pagoda. Even if it is the Tang Guoshi and the exquisite Buddha, facing these otherworldly existences, they can’t help but fall into a long time. silence.
"The Thirteenth Year of Apocalypse...It's really not peaceful."
Li Qingshan sighed softly, turned and looked at the palm-sized sky outside the glazed window. The floating clouds in the sky and the noisy birds on the clouds said leisurely: "Nothing big, but There are always small things that make people feel uneasy, I wonder if I should make a point."
"Buddhist disciples practice meditation but do not practice life." The Huangyang monk looked at his back and said calmly: "I never believed in things like Han Guabu, please don't forget that Qin Tianjian finally provokes stargazing. What a turmoil, now it seems that the taste of the night covering the stars, the country will be restless is really absurd."
Li Qingshan looked at Guanyun negatively, and said calmly: "Flowing clouds are intentional, and stars are shifting intentionally. Any inference of fate that looks absurd at the moment, when fate reaches the next pass, people will eventually find that it is not an inference that is absurd. It's fate, which can easily become absurd."
"Even if what you said is not bad, Master Guoshi, don't forget that the comments made by the priest from Xiling when he taught you the Dao Fa, even if you have the ability to see the sky, you have to pay the price of life. When the Tianjian star-gazing mouth Jian caused countless disturbances, the empress's empress begged you to be counted as a trigram in order to be clear, but you refused to agree. Is it because today you have to be self-conscious for the inexplicable feeling How long is the discount?"
"The secret is unpredictable. I, Li Qingshan, still want to watch the prosperity of the Tang Dynasty for a few more years, how can I lose my life." Li Qingshan slowly frowned, watching the lively street vendors outside the pagoda sip the heat, and said : "But fighting a serious illness, I also want to see what variables have fallen on this chessboard."
The boxer monk sighed softly in his heart, no longer trying to stop the opponent, moved the Buddhist scriptures on the table away, took out the black and white chess pieces and a chessboard from the box, and placed them on the book case.
Li Qingshan turned around, walked to the table, did not make any complicated and mysterious casting movements, just flicked his sleeves, grabbed two black and white chess pieces and threw them on the chessboard very casually.
Dozens of matte chess pieces hit and rolled on the wooden chessboard, making a crisp sound. After a long time, they gradually calmed down. Relying on the will of fate, they fell silently in their own position no longer mobile.
The eyes of Li Qingshan and Huangyang monk fell on a black chess piece on the chessboard at the same time. This chess piece does not deceive the straight line, does not control the Tianyuan, and does not stick to the square. It just falls diagonally somewhere, random and weird.
The vertical and horizontal lines on the chessboard are like the avenue of the road on the earth. The chess pieces are like travellers and carriages, staying at the intersection, asking each other, or as usual, or become enemies, or after pouring two bowls of tea, they will not meet again, calm as usual , Disputes as usual.
Only a carriage lay in the middle of a Tongtian Avenue. It didn't move forward or backwards, chatter with the travellers on the side of the road, and didn't mean to break through everything. It just blocked it silently.
It’s this block, and the suddenly blocked avenues of rice fields are strange. People who go south cannot go south, those who go west cannot go west. World enemies who want to draw their swords to see each other cannot see each other through it. , Lovers who want to be in love with each other cannot hug each other through it, calm becomes jerky, and disputes become chaotic.
"Is this the variable on Pian?"
Looking at the black chess piece, looking at the silent carriage between the vertical and horizontal streets, Datang Guoshi Li Qingshan's expression was still calm, but his face paled at a speed visible to the naked eye, as if at this moment the light was suffering. A serious illness.
There was a dead silence at the top of Wanyan Pagoda. The silence lasted for an unknown amount of time. It was finally broken by Li Qingshan's hoarse and exhausted voice. His voice was empty and could not hear the sadness and joy.
"This variable...is going to die."
The boxer monk was slightly startled when he heard this, and watched the black chess piece slowly merge, showing compassion on his face.
At this moment, Li Qingshan raised his eyebrows, his eyes flashed with different colors, and said: "No, there are variables."
Night is coming, the summer heat has not retreated, the cicadas are still ringing outside the window, the old two-story building of the academy is quiet, the beautiful and slender female professor by the east window has left for unknown time, and the seriously injured and dying boy under the west window Still sitting against the wall, his face was pale and his eyes closed tightly, as if he would fall into a permanent black and sweet dream in the next moment.
There was a row of bookshelves against the wall not far away. The intricate patterns on the sides of the bookshelves lit up slightly and then slid away silently. After a while, a fat boy in a college summer robe squeezed into him panting.
Just as he was about to squat down hard and went to the bottom of the bookshelf to pull out the "Wu Yanyang on the Haoran Sword", the fat boy's brows suddenly wrinkled, and a suspicious color appeared on his youthful and tender face, and he turned around. Look over.
Looking at the boy who was motionless as if he was asleep by the wall not far away, his frowning eyebrows gradually stretched out, and his thick lips sighed, "When is there another Bining in the academy?" Want someone more desperate?"