The bells of the ancient temple are always so profound and long-lasting.
The ancient temple is located on the top of Yingxia Mountain.
Yingxia Mountain is known as "the red clouds of Yin Yin are better than the beauty makeup".
However, people know very little about this ancient temple.
Because few people can climb to the top, and Yingxia Mountain is not as beautiful as its name depicts, but it is surprisingly steep.
The ancient temple on the top of the mountain is dilapidated, and there is a faint sound of wooden fish tapping. The sound intervals are very short, and each sound is just like the murmur of a monk when chanting sutras.
"Gulu——" The sound of swallowing may be the only sound in this quiet courtyard.
"Donor, drinking alcohol is harmful to your health. You have just recovered from a serious illness. Do not drink or eat, and do not be sentimental." The old monk in the temple was the one who talked about it the most. His meaningful words were painful to listen to.
Looking back, the drinking man was still expressionlessly drinking the wine from the jar.
However, the man's face was very decadent, and the lingering fragrance of wine lingered around him and could not dissipate.
His beard was a little long, and his messy hair covered most of his face.
The man looked at the red sun in the distance getting further and further away, reflecting the gradually disappearing red clouds, and said infatuatedly: "The red clouds are gradually fading, but they will not fade away, and the lovesickness will last forever."
The old monk's voice came from nowhere, low, hoarse, and so ruthless:
"If you don't grow green hair, it's hard to keep it. Love is like memories."
"No black hair? Monk, you want me to convert to Buddhism."
"..."
After a long time, the man replied.
"Monk, accept me."
"Okay."