You rascal, stop right there!

Chapter 285 Covering the body like an octopus

Qingliang Temple, east wall of the inner hall.

Bai Wan also began the process of painting the mural "Jataka Tales" for the temple.

Although he had long discovered that this temple had many monks and believers, he had never expected that most of them were people who had nowhere to go during the war, including many young and middle-aged people.

This is easy to understand. Ancient temples had many fields and pilgrims. They were not burdened by government taxes and corvée labor, and could avoid many disasters.

Moreover, he was truly amazed at the financial resources of such a huge temple that could support so many people.

Because the land rent was considerable, he could even be given top-quality pens and ink, various types of sand and stone powder for drawing murals.

So, Bai Wan lamented the many benefits of being a monk, but at the same time he warned himself that he must never become a monk.

He just wanted to repay the temple for sheltering him and saving his life, and he didn't want to shave his head.

The monks and monks with hair passing by speculated:

It's very strange that someone would suddenly paint murals in the temple.

"For money?"

The abbot did not give him any money, and his daily meals consisted of bland soup, steamed bread with cabbage and other vegetarian dishes.

"For fame and fortune?"

Although Han Miaoran cannot be considered a master in the painting world today, he is still considered the most famous painter today, without a doubt.

Finally, the Buddhist disciples came to a conclusion.

This painter is still free!

Bai Wan just smiled calmly, read the Buddhist scriptures and started drawing, without any response.

They just saw this untied-haired ascetic in monk's robes sitting in front of the wall.

All around it were various bottles and jars, including terracotta, red lead and even muscovite.

He occasionally winked and waited for the wall for a long time, then drew a picture on the paper sample: "Empty!"

Then, tear it off!

Draw again, tear again!

This cycle continued over and over again, and even the rough draft was delayed for several days and was not put up on the wall.

Everyone finally wanted to disperse and stop discussing this weird and crazy painter.

Bai Wan sat on the cushion and thought for a while, then asked a monk who had not yet left: "Fayin, I have something I want to ask you!"

The monk looked at him in confusion: "Please speak?"

Bai Wan raised his eyes and said, "You are the one who has the most profound understanding of Buddhist principles in the morning class in the temple. I don't know much about the predictions of the Buddha's previous life, especially before he became a Buddha."

Fa Yin replied: "The Buddha's previous life had three stages of prophecy, reincarnation, fighting and finally becoming a Buddha. He preached and made offerings to his disciples, and experienced many ups and downs..."

These three stages are in three different scenarios.

Bai Wan did not say anything, just listened quietly, then closed his pen and wrote down what was said.

As soon as Master Fa Yin finished speaking, the man stopped another master and asked.

"Master, I have something I want to ask you..."

He asked all the monks and practitioners in Qingliang Temple, just like a child asking a teacher. He asked for advice from morning till night...

In fact, only a few of those monks truly understood Buddhist principles. Most of them were avoiding the world and avoiding disasters, and did not truly practice.

They looked at the white peas they were painting with confusion on their faces, and were extremely embarrassed by the question.

"I don't know anything!"

After hitting the wall several times in a row, Bai Wan finally sat down calmly.

Only then did he realize that the people around him who had studied Buddhism with him before could only recite the scriptures but did not understand them.

Compared to these people, only Master Kongming can talk about Buddhist principles and teach Zen meditation.

The master said to him, "Just paint a picture casually, don't bother yourself so much."

Bai Wan did not hesitate: "Han has never painted anything but never done a half-hearted painting."

Every word is powerful.

Apart from Ling Shumo, no one really understands this person's persistence in this regard.

Therefore, Bai Wan had to go to the Sutra Repository by himself, practice reading, and then draw small sketches.

Buddhist murals are profound and, like ordinary paintings, they require careful consideration.

Once he became obsessed, he began to worry about it day and night.

The lights in the inner hall flickered, and the thin figure looked very heavy.

Bai Wan was so tired that he lay in the Sutra Library with a frown on his face.

A man pushed the door open and put his outer robe on the man.

"It's like this again. You never treat yourself any better."

This action seemed to wake people up a little.

Bai Wan was half sleepy and half awake: "Nonsense, I treat myself very well!"

Ling Shumo supported him carefully: "Then Ah Bai, can I carry you back to rest?"

Bai Wan did not answer, but just held the scroll motionlessly and passed out again.

Looking at the scriptures scattered all over the floor, the marked powder booklets next to them, and various written records.

Ling Shumo couldn't help but smile bitterly: "You are even more obsessed than before."

In this situation, we can't just let him continue sleeping on the floor, and it's even colder in the Sutra Library due to the deep dew.

"Abai?"

He continued to whisper in the man's ear, but there was no response.

So Ling Shumo had no choice but to sort out the books on the floor and put them back in their original places. He also saw that there was really no place to sleep in this building.

There was no other choice, so he carried it on his back, walked to the bed in the next room and gently put it down.

Bai Wan was sleeping soundly, and it seemed that no noise could wake her up.

However, the mixture of sandalwood and ink on his body has an addictive smell.

Ling Shumo gently stroked his cheek with his fingers to smooth out his frown, and felt his body tense and tremble slightly.

"Abai... tomorrow, I will draw with you, okay?"

And a certain scoundrel next to him turned over and covered Ling Shumo like an octopus, his sleeping posture was as bad as ever.

Ling Shumo looked at the person next to him with a complicated look.

He couldn't help but sigh, and then he just slept beside the bed with his clothes on, accompanying...

…………

The first year of the Qing Dynasty.

This is destined to be a year of regret for all Buddhists and Taoists in the world.

As soon as the sun rose, all state officials received official documents from their superiors, ordering them to carry out the order immediately without delay.

After seeing the notice on the city wall, many people talked about it.

All I saw was the black words written on the yellow paper: "Buddhism and Taoism are banned. Monks and Taoists in temples all over the country are ordered to return to secular life, and statues in temples are to be removed!"

Soon, after seeing the news, the soldiers in the city immediately lined up and began to check according to the list.

At this point, Emperor Qingwu Song Yuanshan adopted the national policy of resisting Xuanli, enriching the country and strengthening the army, and increasing the population and military resources.

The movement to destroy Buddhism and Taoism...

it has started!