After cloudy and sunny, Jiankang became lively after continuous rain. Many tea shops gathered in the tea shop and excitedly discussed the current situation. The invading Zhou army has now retreated to Jiangbei and Jiankang is safe.

Even though this security is only temporary, it also makes the people of Jiankang excited. Everyone thinks that Jiankang has the aura of a king, and no matter how rampant the Northern Barbarians are, they will not be able to do anything. As for what to do in the future, I will talk about it later.

On the street, pedestrians were hurried, and a monk slowly walked on the muddy street. His coarse cloth monk's robe had been washed white. He looked like a monk in a dilapidated temple, nothing special.

At the beginning of the year, the Zhou army was at the city, and the government recruited almost everyone, including monks, nuns and Taoists, to defend the city. Now that the enemy has retreated, there is naturally no need for these people to respond, so the figures of monks in Jiankang City have become active again.

There are many temples in the city, so it is not surprising that there are many monks. However, although this monk's clothes are worn, his temperament is very special.

He has a pretty face and a straight face, a slender figure. If he hadn't shave off his worries, wore monk's robe, changed into a brocade robe and jade belt, he would be a pretty man, which was enough to attract the attention of the young ladies.

Like many people, he walked along the street barefoot wearing wooden clogs. Seeing a believer saluting him, he stopped and returned the salute, and then continued to move forward. Although the road was muddy, he did not care about the dirt on his feet, and his steps were as relaxed as walking in the garden.

Passing a street corner, he heard noises coming from the alley. He stopped, listened for a moment before turning into the alley.

The sound came from a small courtyard not far from the entrance of the alley. The courtyard was very dilapidated, without brick and tile houses, only a few thatched huts built with wooden boards. There was a little herb smell coming from it, and it seemed that someone was sick.

The monk came to the gate of the courtyard. The dilapidated gate was hidden. He did not push the door rashly but sang the Buddha's chant. After a while, the gate of the courtyard was opened, but it was a ragged and thin boy. Seeing that it was a monk, he quickly clasped his hands together and bowed.

"May I ask the donor, what happened in the hospital?"

The monk's voice was calm, giving people a feeling of spring breeze blowing on his face. The boy quickly invited him into the room and led him to walk in a thatched house in the other direction, introducing him as he walked:

His brother was sick and had no money to treat him. He had been suffering for more than half a month. Seeing that his condition became worse, other companions were thinking of solutions. Because of different opinions, they started to argue.

"Ah, will you cure your illness?"

"I can't do it." The monk answered truthfully. In this era, people's honorific titles for monks include "Master", "Master" or "Ashang", and the despicable titles include "Atu", but most of the monks' self-proclaimed "I can't do it" rather than "I can't do it".

When the boy heard this, his eyes darkened, but he still led the other party forward. Although this monk would not cure the disease, if he could recite scriptures next to the sickbed, his brother might be able to get the Buddha's blessing and recover from the serious illness.

When he approached the hut, a violent cough came from the house. The boy was about to push the wooden door open, but he saw a man turning out. The man was wearing a shabby military uniform, with scars on his face, and one of his legs seemed to be broken, and he was sandwiched with a wooden board.

Scarface saw the boy about to say something, but saw the monk behind him. He bowed and said a little embarrassedly: "This master, we are short of money, it's really..."

"Donor, I am not here to beg for alms." The monk returned the ceremony, without any anger. The man was stunned and then came to his senses and let the other party enter.

A smell of smell of medicine, musty smell, sweat, etc. came to my nose. There was a person lying on the couch in the room, with a dry face, and a yellow complexion. Although the weather was hot, it was wrapped in a broken quilt.

Several people stood by the couch, all wearing shabby uniforms and were arguing about something. When they saw a stranger coming in, they were stunned at first and then faced him: "Master, please save his life!"

"Donor, I will not cure my illness."

"ah..."

The monk ignored the disappointment of these people and went straight to the couch to sit down. Seeing that the patient was already dying, he said with some pain: "I'm afraid this donor will not work."

"Oh, we know, just, just..."

Scarface suddenly turned around and raised his hand to wipe his eyes. His voice choked and everyone else was speechless. After a few violent coughs, the person on the bed struggled and said:

"Everyone... don't bother me..."

This sentence almost exhausted his strength. Seeing Scarface telling him not to speak and have a good rest, he forced a smile: "Cheng Er...I...I owe you the kindness I have to pay it back in the next life..."

As soon as he finished speaking, he started coughing violently again. He struggled to say something, but he couldn't say it because of his poor breathing. His face turned pale and looked extremely painful.

Everyone was shocked when they saw this, but they saw the monk holding his hand tightly and chanting Buddhist scriptures in a low voice. His face gradually calmed down with his murmuring, his eyes closed, and he no longer struggled. He seemed to be unable to feel the pain, and faced the end of his life calmly.

The other hand slid down the edge of the couch, and there was no coughing or breathing. When several men saw this, their eyes turned red, but they did not cry. The thin boy rushed up and lay on his body and cried loudly:

"Brother! Brother!"

The scene before his eyes did not affect the monk's chanting. I don't know how long it took. After he finished reciting the scriptures, he gently lowered the hand of the deceased and stood up to salute everyone in the house: "Amitabha, this donor wants to have entered the Western Paradise. I would like to mourn you, good, good..."

"Thank you, thank you for your help..."

Everyone quickly bowed and saw the passing monk doing good deeds to save the deceased, and then said goodbye without saying much. Everyone was quite grateful, but because they were short of money, they could not make up a decent thank-you gift.

"My Buddha is merciful and saves all sentient beings. If you donors have any intention, you can do more good deeds and accumulate virtues on weekdays."

The monk was about to leave when a man rushed forward and held the other party's hand tightly and said, "Thank you for your salvation for my brother. I don't know what kind of magic number it is? Which jungle is in? Wu will repay you in the future."

The man was dressed in military uniform, about 20 or 30 years old, with a strong figure, a vicissitudes of face, thick eyebrows and big eyes, and bright eyes, as if he was the leader of these people. The monk smiled slightly: "Donor, I am a monk, and I do not ask for any repatriation."

"Ah, it's Mr. Wu who was abrupt."

"Master Wu, please feel sorry for me."

Everyone watched the monk leave, and one of them looked at the other person's back and said uncertainly: "I seem to have seen this monk in a temple in the city..."

There was no time to worry about this issue, so everyone started to arrange their funeral. They were short of money and could not afford to bury their deceased companions. They could only use a straw mat to choose a place to dig a pit to bury them outside the city.

I have to raise money to buy some memorial items and burn them in front of the grave. I have to build a wooden sign to write the date of birth and death and the name. This has to be asked to write it, because everyone is illiterate, and asking for someone has to spend money. This is another considerable fee.

"The government of heaven killing! It was agreed that there would be rewards for killing enemies. Everyone sacrificed their lives to fight the Beilu. They finally repelled them, but the rewards were delayed! Otherwise, the Wu Wu would not have no money to treat the disease, and he would be dragged down..."

Scarface couldn't continue to talk later, and kicked the broken wooden barrel in the yard away. The others looked angry and the atmosphere at the scene was a little depressed. The man in the lead sneered: "If the government is reliable, how can we fall to such a level?"

He hugged the young man who was crying and swollen with his eyes in his arms. He looked at everyone present: "We have no home anymore. We are not as good as dogs. We have to fight for a living to kill the enemy in order to make a living. Now the brothers are gathered together to break a way out."

"The government is not reliable at all. The only thing we can rely on is ourselves. We should first bury the Wu Lao first, and then depend on the situation."

Scarface lowered his voice and asked, "Adou, what's the situation now?"
Chapter completed!