The world of mortal Bodhi is three thousand times more prosperous. With a flick of the finger, there is a handful of yellow sand formula in the flowing water. He alone is the place where all my things grow.
I endured all the loneliness in that life, not for longevity, just to remember you; I endured all the torture in that life, not for reincarnation, just to meet you. That life was bleak and lifeless, without perseverance, just because I hadn't seen you yet. It's great to see you again! It's great to still remember you!
A massacre! The sky and the earth are dark, rivers of blood flow, and bones are everywhere in the massacre!
Who is screaming to the sky, using his whole life's sorrow. Who holds the sharp sword and resists silently.
I have been wandering for half a life, who can kiss my wounds and hide my thoughts in silence. Half a lifetime has passed, who kissed me to cover up the pain of being desolate. After half a life of ups and downs, who can kiss my sorrow and cover up my lifelong madness? I have been wandering for half my life, who will kiss my tears again to cover up my loneliness and despair for the rest of my life.
Much later, when the clerks who compiled historical records in Tianjie visited their colleagues who had survived, they were all frightened. They said it was a catastrophe in heaven.
The sun and the moon are pale, everything is pale, and no one will forget that extremely sad face. No one can forget the blood-soaked vicissitudes of life.
From day to night, from dawn to dusk. I don't know how long it took, but the man kept swinging his sword numbly to kill, from the mortal world to the ninth heaven, one corpse at a time, a mountain in ten steps, endless slaughter!
At that time, I was not a gangster on the mountaintop in Wumang, and he was not yet a practitioner who struck the wooden fish in the fragrant mist of the prayer hall, shook all the prayer wheels, and turned around the mountains, rivers, and pagodas.
Three lives and three lives, who enters whose reincarnation?
Conception: