My grandma told me a story about her own experience.
When she was 20 years old, because she was about to get married to her grandfather, she went to deliver food to him one night.
On the way back from delivering the food, we passed by the Dragon King Temple in the village. In the Dragon King Temple lived an old man who claimed to be a straggler who had fled to Taiwan from the Kuomintang army. The old man was dirty. He slept on the floor in the temple and lived off the food donated by people who came to the temple to pray for blessings.
It happened that there was still some rice left, and I had to wash the dishes myself after taking it back, so I threw the leftover rice and bowl to the old man and said that the rice was given to him. After eating, he washed the bowl and she would pick it up tomorrow morning.
The next morning, before grandma even approached the Dragon King Temple, she saw a crowd of people surrounding it.
I squeezed forward and saw that the old man I had just met last night was lying upright in front of the Bodhisattva statue. His hands seemed to be entangled, and they were close together. His eyes were not closed, and he was staring straight ahead, with fear on his face.
People living around the Dragon King Temple said that they heard begging for mercy and screams last night. They were afraid that the Bodhisattva was punishing the Kuomintang (people at that time hated the Kuomintang).
When I was chatting with my classmates during evening self-study, I told this bizarre story as a joke to the classmates around me.
Unexpectedly, I found out early the next morning that one of the classmates who listened to the story yesterday died in the same way as the story, with hands clasped and a look of horror on his face, kneeling in front of a statue of an unknown Bodhisattva in the middle of the classroom...
Purpose: suspenseful exploration to reveal the warmth and warmth of human nature