Tian Yuan

Chapter 2222: The Monk Passes Away

The place of the Divine Bridge, the ninth floor of Tianshu Tower.

Inside the Daoyan Mysterious Diagram, Chen Qingyuan was gaining enlightenment.

Observe the barriers and understand the wonderful Dharma.

The scene before my eyes was no longer a blurry mist, but a myriad of orders that were changing every moment.

In the space around him, thousands of mysterious patterns flowed, giving rise to lotuses of various colors.

Lotuses of different colors symbolize different ultimate paths.

The clothes fluttered and purple-red electric current appeared and disappeared.

The black hair dances lightly, as agile as gurgling water.

He had been standing there without moving, but he gave people the illusion of climbing to a high peak. The place he was in was getting higher and higher, reaching the top of the sky. He was stepping on the thirty-three heavens, and the yin and yang of the universe were in his hands.

His pupils were sometimes bright red like blood, and sometimes dark like ink.

His breath fluctuated, sometimes like a volcano that had been dormant for countless years suddenly erupting, violent and violent, and sometimes like a gentle spring breeze, warm and soft.

Zi——Chichi——

He was heading towards the peak of the ninth step, trying to break free from the shackles, ascend to the next level, and lay the foundation for his heaven-defying enlightenment.

When he wakes up, he will definitely be able to break through.

……

The East is the land of Buddhism.

A simple Zen temple with an ancient Bodhi tree growing inside.

There were two cushions placed under the tree, with two monks sitting on them.

One is the current abbot of a Buddhist sect, a Buddhist disciple once subject to widespread controversy. He wears a black cassock, a simple Zen staff at his side. His demeanor is peaceful, solemn, and dignified.

The other is Monk Jingyuan, who has entered the realm of half-Buddha. He wears a simple dark yellow cassock, is slightly fat, has a haggard face and many wrinkles.

"My time is coming to an end. I will not be able to accompany the abbot on the road ahead."

Monk Jingyuan's face was pale and his voice was hoarse.

Long ago, he set foot on the ancient road of the beginning of the Yuan Dynasty, and forced himself to comprehend the truth between life and death, but unfortunately he failed. He had planned to be buried on the ancient road of the beginning of the Yuan Dynasty, but was unexpectedly saved by Chen Qingyuan.

Although he managed to save his life, his foundation was damaged and most of his vitality was consumed.

Later, order was disrupted. In order to protect all races and people, he continued to practice profound Buddhist teachings, but he could not suppress the Taoist injuries in his body, causing his vitality to quickly fade away.

Today, there is no way to save the situation.

"What unfulfilled wishes do you have?"

The abbot spoke slowly with a blank expression.

Monk Jingyuan was silent for a long time, a trace of regret flashing across his eyes: "I am deeply sorry that I can no longer accompany the abbot on this journey."

The abbot remained silent, his eyes changing slightly.

There are many regrets among all living beings in this world.

The abbot was powerless to do anything about this.

"When I die, I will be buried under this Bodhi tree."

Monk Jingyuan made a request.

"it is good."

Without hesitation, the abbot nodded in agreement.

"I'm tired, and I can finally rest."

Many people have an extreme fear of death, but Monk Jingyuan has long seen this. In fact, he has long awaited the day of his passing, so that he can finally stop and rest.

The abbot looked at the aged monk Jingyuan with mixed emotions, at a loss for words. He had seen off the previous abbot and was now faced with the prospect of watching the monk, a longtime colleague, gradually approach the end of his life.

Even though the abbot had seen through the mundane world, he suddenly felt a tightness in his chest and felt quite uncomfortable.

He was the only one left on the journey.

Few people in the world can understand this feeling of loneliness.

"Abbot, thank you for your hard work."

People only know that the abbot of Buddhism holds a high position and great power, but they do not know how heavy the responsibility he shoulders is, which is so suffocating that one wrong step may lead to falling into the abyss and being doomed.

Having accompanied the abbot all the way, Monk Jingyuan knew the abbot very well. He couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for him and sighed.

The abbot said nothing, just quietly looking at the person in front of him.

A gentle breeze blew, and the lush leaves swayed gently, rustling, making the atmosphere here less depressing.

"This is the knowledge I have accumulated throughout my life. Please keep it, Abbot, and place it in the Sutra Library. If you find a gifted and intelligent person in the future, they can inherit my legacy."

Venerable monk Jingyuan has eliminated the dross. Although his own Buddhist teachings have not reached the realm of true Buddha in the true sense, they are not far off.

The abbot, with a serious expression, nodded and said, "Okay."

It is difficult to discern the abbot's true emotions based on appearance alone.

"Take care of yourself."

Monk Jingyuan looked deeply at the abbot and said hoarsely.

After saying that, he closed his eyes.

He wanted to keep the little life force he had left for himself.

Looking back on the journey of this life, I find those familiar people and those familiar things in a corner deepest in my memory.

Perhaps he was recalling some old friends who had been forgotten for countless years, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously rose slightly, with a mixture of joy and pain.

Time!

What a sharp and ruthless knife.

My heart is churning with emotions.

Monk Jingyuan was immersed in his own world and had cut off all contact with the outside world.

Some memories were originally vague, but as he got closer to death, they became clearer and clearer, as if he were experiencing them again.

In the world created by his consciousness, he made up for many regrets.

Going upstream along the long river of memories, I finally arrived at a small mountain village.

The village is beautiful and the scenery is picturesque.

He walked slowly along the path in the fields, looking around at the surrounding environment, which felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

"Afu, it's getting dark. Stop playing around and come back for dinner!"

A clear and crisp voice suddenly reached his ears.

Click!

The invisible shackles that had bound him for countless years broke at this moment.

He remembered the memory that had been buried deep in his heart for a lifetime, and his eyes couldn't help but become moist.

His name is Afu, and he was born in a poor mountain village.

His father died early due to illness, and his mother raised him with great difficulty.

His mother named him Ah Fu, hoping that he would live a peaceful life.

Unfortunately, fate played a trick on him. One day when he was fifteen, a group of bandits came to rob the village and many people died, including his mother.

Later, the village lost the honest and kind Ah Fu and gained a moody monk. He killed all the bandits and refined their skulls into a string of Buddhist beads, which sealed their souls and tortured them for thousands of years.

His Buddhist philosophy was too murderous, so he was rejected by many Buddhists and became a wild monk, wandering around.

In the blink of an eye, he stood at the pinnacle of an era, only half a step away from the so-called true Buddha.

"Mom, I'm back."

His thoughts went back to that day in his youth. Looking at the figure of a woman in coarse linen clothes in the distance, his eyes became moist and his vision blurred.

His robes had disappeared, replaced by a gray, patched shirt. His appearance was no longer old, but that of a child in his teens.

As the sun sets, it's time to go home for dinner.

"Mom, what's delicious today?"

With a smile written all over his face, he responded loudly.

Da da da!

He walked quickly and soon he was running, getting closer and closer to home.

A few days later, Monk Jingyuan passed away.