I'm not willing to die like this! But in fact, I have died. Only a wandering soul is left. I stubbornly refused to let myself be reincarnated. At the bottom of those high-rise buildings, my body has rotted into withered bones. But they are black bones. I don't want to drink that Meng Po Soup is not for the bitter taste, but because I don't want to forget the grievances of the past life, and I can't forget his soft words when he looked at my thrush, "I put on my makeup and asked my husband in a low voice, the thrush is dark and light," but his eyes concealed his scheming. I can't even forget how he gently fed me poison, but I was so happy with it!
After thousands of years of regret and this life, how can we avenge this revenge? Avenge this hatred? Or put down the butcher's knife? Can we become a Buddha immediately?