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My Buddha's Mercy (21)

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    ?

    Han Yong stood blankly in the city, his hot eyes closely following the two figures, one yellow and one blue.

    The two of them are alone, but they are like a needle that stabilizes the sea, preventing the raging torrent of cavalry from taking an inch.

    However, the two of them prevented tens of thousands of grassland barbarians from overstepping the thunder.  What a miracle, what a power!

    He suddenly remembered a few words that his teacher taught him when he was a child: Feather fan and scarf, while talking and laughing, the mast and oar are wiped out in ashes.

    He doesn't remember who the author of this poem is, but he vaguely remembers that the author's purpose of writing the poem is to praise the achievements of a certain sage in the previous dynasty.

    Han Yong is not a good student, he also thought he had forgotten this word long ago.

    But at this moment, his long-standing memory suddenly revived, and he just felt that this word was only appropriate to describe these two people.

    Han Yong's scalp was numb for a while, and his whole body was trembling uncontrollably. He held his breath and looked at the two backs with extremely hot eyes.

    Han Yong never believed that there were gods in this world.

    The theory of immortals is illusory, and it is better to rely on yourself than to pray to gods and Buddhas.

    Besides, if there are gods in the world, why don't good people live long, and evil people who have done all kinds of bad things have a happy life?

    But just today, Han Yong saw a fairy.

    If gods really exist, then it must be what they look like.

    Just now, he was completely desperate.  He is not afraid of death, and he does not regret his life. The only thing he worries about is the hundreds of thousands of people in Beihuang City.

    Han Yong knew the scene after the barbarians entered the city.

    He has seen it with his own eyes.

    Every year around the autumn harvest, Manzi would go to some small towns near Beihuang to fight the autumn wind. Han Yong's defenders were always late.  The wreckage, the wheat field as clean as the wind-blown leaves sighed silently.

    Even among the surviving common people, many will not survive this winter.  Lack of food, coupled with heavy tax burdens, many people could not survive even if they sold their sons and daughters. In order not to be locked up by the government, many people had to sell their fields cheaply and take their families into slavery.

    In troubled times, human lives are worthless, and will fall down when the wind blows.

    When he thought that after his death, Beihuang City would be so ravaged by barbarians, he was filled with resentment, and he would not die with peace in his eyes.

    If there really are bodhisattvas, if gods and Buddhas really have eyes, why don't they go down to save the common people?  Why not punish rape and eradicate evil, bring down demons and demons, and return the world to Haiyan, Heqing, prosperity, and peace?

    Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva who saves suffering, hahahahaha

    If you really exist, come out!

    Come out and let me see!

    Save your believers from hell!

    As if a god or Buddha in the dark really heard the cry in his heart, the next moment, the divine light descended from the sky, the brilliance was magnificent, and two figures gradually appeared from the tumbling dust and smoke.

    After dispelling the smog of history, the gods woke up from the ancient legends and stepped on the battlefield of blood and fire, just like walking proudly on the sky in the past.

    The closest to him was a Taoist priest in blue.  He has a noble posture, graceful like a frightened bird, and mighty like a frightened dragon. The cold sword in his hand kills people invisible, and the light of the sword sinks into the barbarian's armor like a knife cutting tofu, easily beheading all the barbarians who climbed to the top of the wall.

    However, what impressed Han Yong the most and shocked him the most was the yellow-clothed monk under the city.

    Across the high city wall and the continuous stream of barbarian cavalry, Han Yong couldn't see his expression clearly, but amidst the noise of charging and tumbling smoke, he caught the monk's unintentional glance behind him from a distance, and for that  The twin golden lights shone brightly, and the glazed pupils filled with divine light were in a state of turmoil.

    Han Yong doesn't know much about Buddhism, but he still knows the Zen saying "Saving a life can beat the seven-level Buddha". Buddhism emphasizes compassion and avoids killing.

    However, the monks at the gate of the city wore a compassionate smile, but they were actually doing Shura's work.  The Subduing Demon Pestle was originally a magic weapon for slaying demons and demons, but in the hands of young monks, it became a sharp weapon for slaughter.

    The young monk walked through the turbulent crowd like a stroll in the courtyard, and the magic pestle fluttered in the crowd like a butterfly. Wherever he went, the barbarian fell silently, like autumn wheat grass.  A few drops of blood splashed onto his face, staining the jade-like flawless face with a few ghosts.

    Compared with a one-sided massacre, this situation is more like an exquisite dance.

    It's just that there is no way for a compassionate Buddhist disciple to behave like this. It is not an exaggeration to say that he is a demon who has fallen into hell.

    Han Yong heard a colleague gasping for air, and whispered in a low voice: "The Bodhisattva has appeared"

    Yes, they are listening to him?: Advance ¤Î Davarish 1;

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