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The heavy snow has never stopped since winter. Layers of snow piled up on the eaves of the ancient temple, as if to use all their strength to disperse the old tiles on the roof. Despite the heavy snow, there is still a peaceful and calm Brahma singing in the temple.

A clear and urgent cry broke the original silence. "master! A young monk just ran in from the outside, panting and his lips were white.

The old monk no longer sings Sanskrit. "Amitabha! Kong Yuan, what's so tense? " He sighed softly. "Murphy donor outside what happened? 」

"Yes, yes-"the young monk answered at once. "The merciless benefactor cut himself with that sword and shed a lot of blood. How terrible! The young monk is pale. I don't know if I was frozen by the snow or scared.

"That's all." The old monk stood up. "I'd better go and see him!" The sun shone on the old man's thin face, solemn and kind.

The old monk pushed open the temple gate, and the oncoming wind and snow blew the worn-out cassock. Don't overdo it. He said, "Kong Yuan, you go and sort out the scriptures." The old monk stopped the young monk who wanted to come with the probe without saying a word. Just because he didn't know how to explain the infatuation in this world to the young monk, he simply didn't let the young monk go with him.

Seven days ago, an unexpected visit. ...

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