She's a real daughter and she's telling people's fortunes again

"Stupid disciple, you are indeed a wrong teacher."

"If my master had not retreated with compassionate thoughts when he knew he had been to Buddhism and came here to seek revenge, but had taken the initiative to show up, you would not have suffered this difficulty."

Monk Wu Zen looked at the two children who were crying, with a trace of guilt on his face.

"Master is right. He is compassionate. There is nothing wrong with that."

The little monk kept sobbing, but the words he spoke were extremely firm.

It is the duty of a monk to be compassionate, regardless of right or wrong.

"As an old monk, it is indeed right to be compassionate. But as your master, I made a big mistake." Monk Wuchan frowned, feeling very uncomfortable in his heart, as if he had knocked over the five-flavor bottle.

"It is precisely because you are my master that I don't want you to break the precepts, not to mention that you have been compassionate all your life."

The young monk noticed the strange look on Monk Wuchan's face, so he stopped crying because he knew that his master was angry.

There is a saying in the Buddhist scriptures: Bodhisattva lowers his eyebrows, Vajra eyes are angry.

However, anger is not allowed in Buddhism. How could the young monk watch the master crack it?

"Silly disciple, since I have been merciful all my life, if I am not merciful once in a while, I will forgive me."

Monk Wuchan felt his disciple's reluctance and worry, and a kind smile appeared on his face, as usual.

Only now did Holy Monk Wu Zen realize that the person he, this foolish disciple, valued most was actually himself.

Even if he is injured, even if his cultivation is destroyed, even if he is reduced to a useless person, this stupid disciple is still worried about himself.

Thinking of this, the guilt and anger in Monk Wuchan's heart became more and more intense.

The holy monk Wu Zen has only one disciple in his life, and it is also the first time he has become someone else's master.

The holy monk Wu Zen has read many books and read many ancient books, and he also knows that teachers are the ones who preach, teach, and resolve doubts.

Countless ancestors left texts to teach the holy monk Wu Zen how to be a good master, but he didn't do it well enough.

It was also the first time for the young monk to be someone else's disciple. Moreover, the young monk did not like to study and had no ancestors to teach him how to be a good disciple, but he did a good job.

The holy monk Wu Zen felt guilty and regretful.

"Amitabha."

"Silly disciple, where are they? I am not merciful today."

For a long time, the holy monk Wu Zen put his hands together and silently recited the name of the Buddha for an unknown number of times in his life.

But the difference is that before I recited the Buddha's name silently, I was worshiping the Buddha sincerely, but this time I was apologizing to my Buddha.

"Southeast, at the foot of Grandpa Mountain."

The young monk no longer stopped him. The person who understood Buddha the most in the world was his master, and the person who was most connected to Buddha in the world was also his master. Since the master said that occasionally I am unmerciful, Buddha will forgive me, so I will definitely be forgiven.

"Wait here for a moment. I'll go back as a teacher."

As soon as he finished speaking, the holy monk Wu Zen waved his old, patched cassock, and suddenly a breeze came.

I saw the holy monk Wu Zen rising into the sky and walking on the wind. As he waved his cassock, his speed suddenly increased and cut through the sky.

In an instant, thunder exploded in the sky, and then dark clouds gathered!

In just a few breaths, the figure of Holy Monk Wuchan disappeared from everyone's sight.

"My dear, this is the first time I've seen Holy Monk Wu Zen be so impatient!" The heroic man was speechless, his face full of amazement.

The rest of the people nodded in agreement, but the young monk said proudly: "My master helped me vent my anger!"

At the same time, the rolling thunder attracted the attention of the monks from Yinlong Temple.

For a moment, all the monks, led by the deputy host, stood up one after another and looked at the source of the thunder.

What caught his eye was an old figure walking through the air.

Different from the world's impression of this living Bodhisattva, at this moment, the old monk was glaring with anger, as if carrying the power of God, he was coming with a bang!