With the faint light from the bonfire in the small stone house not far away, the little shaman saw clearly that behind him, the donkey donor was holding a hoe for planting trees, and blood was still dripping down from the hoe.

The little novice monk was shocked. He could not understand why the donkey donor attacked the uncle who was giving him food.

The donkey donor's face showed a fierce look. He threw away the hoe in his hand and picked up the little shaman in his waist.

When the master was alive, he taught him a set of long fists, saying that he was to strengthen his body. But now his whole body was stiff and he could not make any moves at all. When he came to his senses, the donkey donor was firmly trapped on the pillars in the small stone house with a two-fingered rope.

Then he turned around and walked out, dragged the unconscious forest ranger in, put it on a chair, and tied it to another pillar face to face with the little novice monk. The distance between the two was only about one meter.

After doing all this, the donkey donor began to search everywhere in the small stone house.

First, he changed into the ranger's clothes, but threw his strange clothes into the fire.

Then he found a backpack, stuffed some steamed buns, corn and bacon randomly, and took out a few colorful pieces of paper from the forest ranger and put them in his pocket.

Then he smiled and said to the little shaman, "Little monk, thank you. If I hadn't met you, I might have starved to death in this forest. Now I won't kill you. You can stay here for a few days, send the Buddha to the West, and wait for me to leave with peace of mind."

After saying that, he didn't wait for the little monk to answer, picked up the flashlight on the ground, pushed the door and walked into the dark night.

The little novice monk who had come back to his senses then realized. He shouted desperately, but the voice was blown away by the howling cold wind in the forest and did not reach much.

It was not until the second midnight that the forest ranger slowly woke up.

He was seriously injured, and a huge hole was broken through the back of his head. Blood flowed down his back into his cotton coat, and dripping to the ground.

After looking around, I confirmed that there were only two of them in the room, and then I hurriedly asked, "Where has that person gone?"

The little novice monk told him everything that had just happened.

The uncle paused and said, "Little Master, you have been cheated. That person is not a hiker at all, but a fugitive who escaped from a nearby prison. His wanted orders are everywhere at the foot of the mountain!"

The little novice monk finally understood what "prison escape" and "fugitive" meant, and then realized that he had caused a big disaster.

The uncle was sometimes awake and sometimes unconscious. When he was awake, he told him that the next forest ranger who would succeed him would not come after 6 days, and his senior brothers had just arrived, so he probably wouldn't come again in the past few days.

He also told the little novice monk that he should hold on anyway. If he is lucky, the police who went into the mountains to search for fugitives might find this place in advance.

He finally said that he had a grandson as old as him, who was already in elementary school, so naughty and cute.

When it was dawn, no matter how the little novice monk cried and begged, the uncle never woke up again. At this time, his eyes did not completely close, and he stared straight into his eyes in front of the little monk.

In the next few days, the little shami watched helplessly as the uncle, who was less than one meter away from him, first became dark, and then there were large purple spots on his face and hands.

Three days later, an unpleasant odor began to permeate this well-sealed house.

Since the two of them were tied with hemp ropes on their necks, they even looked at each other in a face-to-face position. The little shaman couldn't even turn his head. For most of the time, he closed his eyes tightly and let tears flow down.

On the 4th day, the uncle's corpse had a protruding eyeball, his tongue was half-extended, his abdomen was obviously enlarged, and even a "gurgling" sound was made, the clearer it was at night. At this time, the little monk couldn't even cover his ears.

On the fifth day, the little novice monk stared at the corpse in front of him as if he had entered a meditation, and even ignored the maggots emerging from the corpse's sockets.

He began to think that if it weren't for himself, this old man might have been able to go home and enjoy family after work, or maybe he could have lived to be 100 years old. Instead of being like now, no one knew about rotting in the woods.

But if you say this, was the fugitive or himself who killed him?

And at this moment, where is the Buddha I have been begging for the rest of my life?

Then, he began to constantly imagine what would happen if he could do it again.

But he was even more surprised to find that even if he did it again 100 times, he still had no reason to refuse the fugitive's call for help. In his eyes, it was a life, the same life as himself and the uncle.

Could it be that because he is a bad person, he would not save him and let him die slowly in front of him? But if he saves him, even if he doesn't kill the uncle Ranger, wouldn't he kill another person?

Is there no difference between saving people and killing people?

On the fifth night, the little novice monk was no longer able to do it.

Although the weakness of his body is the main reason, the pain in his heart is no less than the pain he suffers from his body. During the past five days, he has been thinking that if he could exchange his life for his uncle's life, he would agree without hesitation.

Unfortunately, for five days, he prayed to the Buddha countless times. He recited the scriptures he could recite over and over again, but the miracles that seemed to be everywhere in the Buddhist scripture stories never appeared.

On the 6th day, on the dying day, a strong feeling of reluctance suddenly emerged from the bottom of his heart. He just wanted to ask the dead master: What is Buddha?

If you keep seeking Buddha like this and fail to obtain it, then is there any meaning in practicing?

He also wanted to ask the fugitive: He obviously saved him, but why did he turn his head and want to harm him?

Finally, he wanted to ask the forest ranger: You have clearly recognized the fugitive, why do you still let yourself enter the house and give him food? Why don’t you keep yourself and him outside the door?

If possible, I have to ask the Buddha, how did he put all this in front of him?

Just as he was unconscious, he seemed to see the master reaching for him, a gloomy and mocking voice appeared in his mind:

"Are you unwilling to give up?"

The story that cannot be told is over. His speaking speed is very slow. It seems that every word in this story contains his great sorrow. If he vents quickly, he will not be able to withstand the great pain that comes with it.

After listening to this story, everyone fell into deep thought and didn't even know what to say.

Every dying person has his own obsession, which is more important than his own life. It is also the greatest motivation to support them in completing one terrifying yellow spring game.

And this strange dependent space, this mysterious Lord of the Yellow Spring undoubtedly gave them the possibility of this obsession to come true.

But, can they really afford to get this possible price?
Chapter completed!