Chapter 228 Strange PeopleIn just a few days, Fusheng experienced the beatings of life. His package was stolen. The place where he often begged for alms was occupied by monks from the Golden Buddha Temple. The monks of the Golden Buddha Temple were eloquent and promised all kinds of benefits after death, which induced believers to spend big money, making Fusheng's eyelids twitch. There was no place for him to stay in the entire Pi City, so he was forced to leave Pi City. It was even more difficult outside the city. In the villages and towns, as soon as they heard that I was a wandering monk, they would not let him into the town or village. He ventured into a village and was severely beaten by the villagers. It’s not because the villagers don’t believe in Buddhism, but because... a monk has come to this village and marked out his territory. The villagers looked after the monk and split the proceeds 70% to 30% of the proceeds from the alms he collected. It is reasonable and in line with the rules of the underworld.
Fusheng lay on the side of the road, feeling like he couldn't survive any longer. He was dizzy and hungry. He was wearing only one ragged piece of clothing. He saw an old woman, limping, with a basket on her arm, which seemed to be filled with food. "Old donor, could you please give me some food? I am willing to recite three volumes of scriptures and pray for your blessings and peace." Fusheng quickly put his hands together and bowed. The old woman with gray hair glanced at him and said nothing. Fusheng begged again, but the old woman still ignored him. Finally, Fusheng had no other choice but to say, "Mother! Can you bear to let your son starve to death?" When the old woman heard the monk's shameless words, she wanted to call him shameless, but she saw that the monk was somewhat similar to her son. "You do look a bit like my son. Here, give it to you! Is there any more?" The old woman gave him a sweet potato bun. The steamed bun was black and only half the size of Fusheng's palm. If it was at the Golden Buddha Temple before, he would not even look at such a steamed bun. Now he was ecstatic. He swallowed it in two mouthfuls and kowtowed to the old woman repeatedly: "Thank you, mother! I wish you good health, everything goes well, and you are as blessed as the East Sea." The old woman ignored him and just said, "I wish everything would go well," and left. After eating a steamed bun, Fusheng felt even hungrier. He felt that he had mastered a new skill of begging, so when he saw an old woman he called her mother and when he saw an old man he called him father. Then...he was beaten by some beggars. Because he crossed the line. Originally, the way a monk like him begged for alms was different from that of a beggar, but now his way of begging by calling out to his parents was just like that of a beggar. Fortunately, although he was dizzy and hungry, the foundation of martial arts he learned in his youth allowed him to withstand the beating. But I can’t stay in this place anymore.
He was forced to get out of the place. The underworld is like this: either you can suppress the local bully, or you will be driven out by him. Every person and every industry was divided into fine pieces, and even begging was divided into different levels. He can't go to the city, and can't make it in the towns and villages. Where can he go? He has only death. So he really died. Because there is no place for him to survive, and he has no way to survive. He found a crooked tree, tore his clothes into strips and tied them into a rope. The rope was hung on the tree, and he stepped on a stone, and was about to put the rope around his neck. As soon as he kicked his feet, he was free. Living is too tiring. As for going to the eighteen levels of hell, their fellow disciples will go there first! With this thought in mind, he knocked down the stone under his feet. Then he felt suffocated by the rope, he felt pain, and he knew he was going to die. From the Buddha in the Golden Buddha Temple to a beggar with nothing. Looking back on his life, he had just passed it by in a daze. As he thought about this, he felt like he was falling. Is this what it feels like to fall into hell after death? But he didn't fall into hell, he felt pain, so... he didn't die. "Cough cough..." Fusheng covered his throat, opened his eyes and saw someone. A strange person. First of all, his hair was very short, as short as a monk's. Not all monks are bald. Hair grows every day. If you don't shave for a few days, your head will be covered with dense short hair. So shaving your hair every day is a tedious task. Only monks who hold high positions or are very wealthy have monks shave their hair every day or even wax it to maintain their image. In Fusheng's current state, his hair was messy and more than an inch long, about the same length as the person in front of him. The second thing is his appearance, or rather his expression. He has neither the arrogance and humility of a warrior nor the humility and numbness of an ordinary person. He just has a plain and ordinary demeanor. His clothes were blue, buttoned in the middle, with narrow collar and sleeves, different from the mainstream clothes in the martial arts world. His lower body was a pair of riding breeches, but they were straight and neat. He was not very old, and behind him was a long sword and a package. "Hey, hey, hey... Why are you hanging yourself naked? It's immoral!" the man said with a smile. There was a hint of...cynicism in his laughter.
"I'm dead now, why should I care about morality!" Fusheng glanced at the weirdo and picked up the cloth rope on the ground. He saw that the place where the cloth rope was broken was very smooth, as if it had been cut by a sharp knife. "Why are you so nosy that you make me hang myself again?" Fusheng tied the broken cloth rope again and threw it onto the branch. He was going to be hanged again. The man looked at him and said with a smile: "There is nothing in life that you can't think of. Why don't you speak it out and make me happy." "..." Fusheng thought this man was a psychopath. He just moved the stone silently, then stood on the stone, put the rope around his neck, and said: "There are people like me everywhere. If you want to have fun, go somewhere else. Let me die." After saying that, he closed his eyes and kicked the stone away. With a "thump", he fell to the ground again, and his whole body was in pain. "Are you sick? Why are you like this? Let me die! Let me die!" Fusheng looked at the weirdo and yelled. Even a clay man would still get angry, not to mention that this was two consecutive pranks. As if frightened by Fusheng's hysterical roar, the man said seriously: "Sorry. I didn't mean it. I just wanted to save you!" "What's the use of your thinking! Do I want to die? I also want to live, I have to live! Do I want to die..." Fusheng yelled at the man, and he couldn't help crying as he spoke. He had a really hard time during this period. "If you really want to live, you can go to Yangzhou." The man said, "But first you need to do me a small favor and tell me where Picheng is." "Yangzhou?" Fusheng had naturally heard of the strange Yangzhou. Picheng was in the central part of Xuzhou, not far from Yangzhou. Someone from Yangzhou!
(End of this chapter)