Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You

Biquge www.NovelMTL.com, the fastest update will not be disappointing, the latest chapter will not be disappointed!

Our new home is a small house with four rooms on each side and a five-room main house in the middle, which is more than enough for both of us. Moreover, all the applications are complete, and it can be seen that Du Jin took a lot of thought. Fortunately, with him, we immediately have a place to stay, no longer have to work around to find a place to live.

After discussing with Roche, I took in Murongchao's family. Hu Yanping is a man with a sense of love and gratitude. He is grateful to us and has put all his energy into his family. The Gongsuns do the laundry and cooking for us. Hu Yanping and Duan Pingting cook with me every day to make rice porridge and sorghum for disaster relief. At night, when I'm free, I teach Xiao Murongchao and Hu Yanjing to study. They still concealed their true identity from me, and I didn't break it.

And Roche, since he no longer has to follow Lu Guang, he also went with me to the place where the victims gather every day to see them and give lectures for them. People in natural disasters and human disasters have experienced misery, and despair in this life is easier to accept Buddhism and look forward to the afterlife. His followers are expanding rapidly among the folks, and he also likes this kind of life even more, and likes to tell the Bible. He is busy every day, but his brows are relaxed, not as gloomy as before.

Hu Yanping lives alone in the warehouse, he does not like to talk much, and carefully protects the Murongchao family. Only when no one pays attention to it will show nostalgic eyes to Duan Pingting. And Pingting, I can see that she is also affectionate to Hu Yanping. Two people hindered their identities and suppressed their emotions. I tried to persuade them several times, but I don't know how to persuade them. The history book does not say that Duan will get married again. Perhaps, they will suppress their whole lives. Secretly lamented, in this chaotic world, survival is more important than love.

In mid-November, twenty-four dust-covered turtle monks found our residence. They took the risk and traveled across the desert. After half a year, they finally came to Gu Zang and followed their guru, Kumarajiva. Not to mention Rosh seeing them moved to tears, even me, but also touched by the perseverance of this group of monks.

His disciples also brought unexpected things. There are gold and silver, brand-new clothing and specialties of Guizi, all brought by Vishati. It turned out that Vshatipah funded all their travel expenses. In addition to gold and silver, there are two letters. One was from Vrsati, who said that Guizi was calm now, everything was well at home, and Qi Siyong was even more lovely. I hope we take good care of our bodies, and if we have a chance, we can go home and take a look. The other letter was written with Buddha Yeshe, who was also a teacher and friend of Roche. Rosh studied Mahayana with him when he was young. He already knew that Rosh had broken the ring to marry his wife, but after squeezing his wrist, there was no severe condemnation. It can be seen that Roche was grateful for Buddha's sympathy.

Gu Zang does not have a formal temple, and at this moment there is no extra money for his disciples to live elsewhere. Therefore, we suddenly added another 24 family members. Our home feels weird when I think about it. In terms of ethnicity, there are Han, Guizi, Xianbei, and Huns. In terms of identity, there are monks, monk's wives, and future monarchs, queens and empresses. Such a group of people, combined into a peculiar family, work every day to run the disaster area. Lectures sometimes allow disciples to do the work for him. He also has another job: practicing medicine.

Based on the records I have read, I know that the price of grain will definitely keep rising. So persuade Li Hao to take out the money and hoard the grain first. I also replaced most of the money with two hundred buckets of sorghum, one hundred buckets of millet, and fifty buckets of wheat, which filled our utility room. I thought that with Li Hao and my stored grain, I could be able to meet the migrants for a while. But I did not expect that with the arrival of midwinter, the situation is worse than I know.

In late November, the weather suddenly became colder, the wind was like a knife, and the snow was like snow. There were more disaster victims. The famine in Xiping area of ​​Nanjun was not too severe, but because Lu Guang was fighting the former Qin Taishou in these two places, many people went into exile to avoid the war. Every day, seven or eighty thousand thin-skinned people line up outside our porridge. Snow flakes accumulate on the shoulders, often waiting to be discharged. They have long become snowmen. Wei's trembling hands stretched out, and the frostbite ran out of pus. Frail people fall at any time while queuing, no longer breathing. Roche said that one victim will not be starved to death, but I am afraid that there will be people who die before starvation.

Persuaded Li Hao to donate a batch of cotton coats, a thousand sets, just enough to give to the old, weak and sick. We added another 200 sets ourselves, but every day there were carts with frozen dead bodies pulled out of the city. The amount of food stored is decreasing at an alarming rate, and after the porridge is delivered every day, there is a large group of people looking at us with eyes. Porridge has become more and more thin, but still can not let everyone share a bowl. Going to buy food again, the price doubled again.

Although the disaster relief, Li Hao made most of the money. But seeing that there was not enough porridge every day, I was embarrassed to ask Li Hao to add more food. I asked Rosh to add my stored food. In this way, the grain in our warehouse is also rapidly decreasing. And we ourselves are not much better. We do not have a source of income, and we sit and eat every day. No matter how much money Vrsati has given, it is not enough to support such a family. My chancellor of the finances, when we are worried every day, we will start to change the property.

Roche had no concept of money at all, he couldn't bring money at all, and no matter how much he would be spent. Either give alms to a beggar or buy a book. Years of support and superior life made him a typical wealthy disease. For example, when it comes to eating, he is "don't be tired of eating fines, but not fine", and likes delicate dishes. Although he never said, but I can see that he does not like to eat sorghum batter. In fact, who likes to eat it? Millet porridge also has fragrance, but sorghum noodles are astringent and stalk.

I am a Jiangnan native and used to eating rice from snacks. I eat pasta every day while I am in Guizi, and I get used to it after a long time. It was the first time I had eaten sorghum after I arrived in Guzang. I realized that sorghum was unpalatable, and my stomach was easily swollen after eating sorghum noodles. But sorghum is drought tolerant. In the summer drought, wheat and grass died, and only sorghum can still harvest, so it is the cheapest food. We mainly rely on sorghum and millet for disaster relief. For ourselves, I let Gongsun and Duan Pingting make noodles, steamed buns and cakes, and take them to the disaster relief site for our family to eat for themselves. I'm not that great, I have to eat the same things as the victims. Our current economic conditions, no matter how tight we are, have not yet reached this point.

Roche was okay to wear, because he always wore monks' robe and some small patch of clothes, as long as it was not obvious, he would still wear it. But he loves neatness and even some cleanliness. In the past few days, he ran among the victims. He never showed filth, but he changed his clothes every day when he came home, and he had to wear clean, washed clothes the next day.

One of his big expenses is buying books. His book in Guizi couldn't bring all of it, only picked the important ones, which were already the heaviest bags we have traveled along. When I arrived in Gu Zang, I could get access to more Chinese books. He absorbed the Chinese culture like a sponge. So at first I never restricted him from buying books. However, movable type printing has not been invented, and paper is expensive. Books in this era are dozens of times more expensive than daily necessities. And he often saw the books he liked, bought them without asking the price, and left my pocket embarrassedly.

This man, alas, in addition to being a spiritual leader, he really doesn't understand Chai Mi You Yan. I am thankful that I had consciously trained my ability to live in ancient times when I was in Guizi, so I would not be helpless now.

In December, the number of migrants surged, reaching more than 100,000, which is comparable to the number of residents in Guzang City. There is a slump in the city and prices are falling, except for food. Many people set up stalls at the door to change their property, and they can't exchange a bucket of grain for a day.

At the hillside where the disaster victims gathered outside the city, the entire tree was peeled and the grass roots covered by heavy snow were also excavated. Sorghum stalks, straw, wheat straw, and even the cotton in the jackets have become life-saving food. The victims crushed them and boiled them with water for most of the day to make some starch. Everyday people are poisoned by accidental ingestion of Stellera chamaejasme. Often when Roche got the news and rushed to rescue, the man had spit foam, and his face was bruised, and his face was horribly dead.

Some of the victims began to get swollen and squeezed out of the yellow water, walking and shaking. There are many people who are constipated by eating bran and eating Guanyin soil. They are skinny and skinny, but they have a strange belly. I have seen them in a run-down cave with their bare bottoms bent, digging branches with each other, blood flowing. The chopped people moaned loudly and loudly, no matter how far I stumbled, those screams still sounded from time to time.

Lu Guang's counterinsurgency did not progress smoothly, so he posted a conscription notice on the street, over fifteen and under fifty. Intentionally stated that soldiers can get enough food and clothing. With these few words, all the men who still have the strength among the refugees will sign up and fill the Gulou area.

I passed the Drum Tower with Roche, Hu Yanping, Duan Pingting, and more than 20 disciples of Guizi. Lu Guang’s second son, Lu Hong, was in charge of recruiting. When he saw us, he turned his head and deliberately ignored it. I'm so angry, what's so proud of? He also wanted to be independent after Lv Zuo killed Lv Shao, but was defeated and killed by Lv Zuo. Lu Guang's sons, in addition to fighting with each other in the nest, what other skills?

"Junior, let's divide a bun first. I joined the army just to eat a bun for my mother."

A rough voice during the voice change period caught our attention. The child, who is only half an age, looks up to 13 or 14 years old, has a runny nose, and his cheeks become purple. A pair of rotten shoes on his feet, his toes exposed, a black ball.

"Buns have to wait until they enter the camp, but not now." The officer who was busy filling the list answered impatiently.

"When will that be?"

"Loopy, do you really vote? Next!"

"I vote, I vote." The thumb pressed on the red ink pad, and then pressed on the paper. A life was sold at such a low price, still a child.

"Shun'er, mother doesn't want you to join the army, you are only thirteen." A woman stumbled and cried when she was pulling the child.

"Sir, I am fifteen, and I am so reluctant to say so." The child saw the officer frown and said quickly. A few soldiers came, pulled his mother's hand away, and took the child to the camp behind.

The child turned back to the woman and shouted, "Mother, you will get buns later, and Shun'er will bring you."

I can't bear to watch it. This Shun'er is so naive, how could he still come out after entering the camp? Seeing Rosh around him digging in his arms, he pulled out nothing and whispered to me, "Is there any money?"

I nodded, took out a few copper plates, walked to the woman who was still crying, and gave it to her. She looked up, her complexion was not visible on her face. She didn't pick it up, and suddenly knelt at Rosh: "I don't want money. Master, please pray for me to bless my son back safely."

Rosh moved, helplessly, I quickly pulled her up.

"Master, also help my son read the scriptures."

"Master, and me. I am an orphan, so please read it for me once."

"Mage..."

There were more and more choking noises in the ranks, and Rosh looked up. Thousands of ragged people, just to get a full meal, left their families and went to the battlefield of unknown life and death. Rosh's mouth twitched, and there was endless sadness in his eyes. Turning his head and telling the disciples, the disciples spread out and walked to the middle of the line to read the mantra of peace for those asking for blessings. Most of the people in the crowd closed their eyes together and accepted the blessings of the Buddha religiously.

Snow flakes began to fall again, the sound of falling snow, the murmur of Sanskrit singing, the cry of crying down, and the sheets of paper covered with red seals quickly filled the conscript.

That night, he did not sleep for a long time, and there was a miserable white snow outside, which reflected his sad look: "Ai Qing, people live in the world and suffer hardships. I am tossed and unable to stop the natural disasters, and I cannot stop the human disasters. What can I do for them?"

The sadness in my heart is not lower than him. Put on a cotton coat for him, pull his hand, and lean on his shoulder.

"You can do a lot. Buddhism is born of suffering. The Buddha saw that everything in the world is suffering, so he had Buddhism. This is a spiritual comfort that makes people temporarily forget the suffering, and it is also a beautiful fantasy for the future. I remember a great Western philosopher who said, "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed soul, the feelings of the ruthless world."

Turn around to face him and hold his hand firmly: "Rosh, try your best to give those sufferings a hint of spiritual comfort. Even if you can't finally escape the fate of freezing and starvation, at least let them Before his death, he closed his eyes in satisfaction with the expectations of the afterlife."

He looked back at me. In order to save, we did not light the lights, the reflection of the snow still illuminates the deep sadness in his eyes. Stirring me into his arms, he whispered my name. And I let the tears wet his shirt. What have I seen these days, is it a shock to my soul?

Lv Hong's conscription ended after five days, and a total of more than 30,000 people were recruited. Apart from the elderly, the weak and the sick, the younger people have not been seen. Three days later, Lu Hong took the newly recruited soldiers and a large amount of food and set off to assist Lu Guang. When the team was drafted, Roche took his disciples to pray for them. The refugees who joined the army finally put on cotton-padded jackets, and the grass rope was tied around their waists. There was a big "pawn" on the back. The purulent hand clings to the bow spear, his eyes full of confusion. You can get buns only by killing people who have nothing to do with yourself. What's more, in this barbarous melee, they may have their own loved ones among the enemies they face.

That whole day, there were crying everywhere in Guzang City, looking up at the sky, Ren Xuepian fell on his face. Recall that there is an "Isolated Valley" in the folk songs of the Northern Dynasties, depicting the tragic phenomenon of brotherhood:

The brother is outside the city, the bow has no strings, the arrows have no brackets, and the food is exhausted. Save me! Save me!

Without this crossing, I will never experience what it means to live like a ant.

I'm still busy every day. My hands and feet grew frostbite for the first time in my life. It hurts and itches, and rubbing **** tablets doesn't help. But these are not enough time to take care of, a bad news hit us slumped.

In mid-December of the lunar calendar, as I know, the grain has risen to 500 yuan per bucket, which has reached the highest price in the historical period. Li Hao came to us with a sullen face and said he could no longer support it. All his industries, such as inns, restaurants, and drugstores, can no longer operate. Tian Zu couldn't even receive it because of the exile of the tenant farmers. He suffered losses never seen in previous years. The remaining food in the warehouse must ensure that the entire Li family can survive this winter.

This is no less than a thunderbolt for us. Without his support, when can we sustain ourselves? Roche and I pleaded with him, but it was useless. Li Hao just told us apologetically, this time he was forced to say something, it was his fault. If we have any requirements other than disaster relief, as long as he can do it, he will definitely do it.

That night, Roche was packing up silently. Sort out the books, extra clothes, everything he thinks can be sold and give it to me.

His eyes were bright and he told me firmly: "Ai Qing, I will not buy books again, I will not have to change my clothes every day, and I will not have to eat meat every few days. I will eat whatever the victims eat. Anything that saves money The place must be saved. If you ruin your family, Roche will save people."

I was shocked, and the book in my hand was scattered on the ground: "Rosh, except for the number of conscriptions, the victims still have 70,000 or 80,000. With our own food storage, it is only enough to relief the disaster for two or three days. After two or three days, how do we ourselves do?"

He picked up the book silently and placed it on several cases, staring at the wick of the oil lamp slightly beating, the oil lamp saw the desperation and silence in his eyes. I know he can't bear it, but I must say.

He gently pulled his arm carefully and persuaded softly: "Rosh, give up, we have tried our best. These grains, we have to keep ourselves for the winter..."

"No." He interrupted me, revealing his unusual perseverance in the clear gray eyes. "We can still sell things, and I can go to the Daguan official for donations. I will never give up before the end of the road. "

Thinking of the few words in "The Book of Jin", suddenly sadness came from it. "But this famine would have been..."

"Tomorrow, I will go to Lu Shao." He didn't seem to care what I said, his eyes were shining brightly, and the whole person was cut out by the dim light. At this moment, he was as holy as a compassionate Buddha, and the only bright color in this darkness.

Put his hand on his heart, stare at his clear, spring eyes, and take a deep breath: "Okay, this is your choice. I am your wife, and I should share the same pains with you."

He stroked my face, and his soft lips fell on his cheeks: "Ai Qing, you are thin..."

Developed silk for me, crystal light gushed out of my eyes. The throat knot rises and falls in the elegant neck, and chokes: "How good your times are, there is no such famine, no inhumane war. Come here to follow me and make you suffer together..."

I shook my head desperately, and finally couldn't stop it, and fell into his arms and cried. I have never suffered in this way. In the 21st century, I am too used to the wealth of materials in peacetime. However, my times also have these sufferings. Famine in Africa, war in the Middle East, genocide and vendetta. It's just that they are too far away from me. Without coming to the Sixteen Kingdoms over a thousand years ago, how could I expect that I would start to suffer from hunger three days later.

And I cried not because I was afraid of the upcoming hunger, or because I wanted to witness so many deaths every day, but because I knew the end of this famine. Three times the words came to my mouth, but they still swallowed it back. Why should he let him know these cruel records early? I would rather endure the torture of knowing the end, and do my best to support him according to his wishes.