We are still human beings, we can only stand to die, but not kneel to live.
In the autumn of the Thirteenth Year of the Desert, Emperor Mo Yuan stood without a leader. He dumped his corpse in the graveyard all day and night, and this was the end of a glorious generation. The world was in chaos, hundreds of trees in the middle reaches of the Han River withered, and the gates of the temples on the mountainside thirty miles away were closed tightly. The whole temple reduced going out in order to keep Buddhism clean and not kill any living beings.
I went down the mountain for half a day without realizing it, and brought back a baby. The baby's pulse was weak, and he died prematurely due to a slight accident. He was wrapped in his arms and given light rice soup, and his ferocious complexion softened.
The next day, there was no sun, and there was an old road going up the hill. Pushing open the door of the temple, he walked straight into the Wujue meditation room with firm eyes. The monks tried to stop him but to no avail. Following closely behind him, the old Taoist pointed at the baby and said, "I want this child." So this temple now has an additional Taoist priest.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
