You rascal, stop right there!

Chapter 291: Calling the two the Mo Ran Shuang Heroes (Thanks to the book friend Yue Zai who doesn

After this painting, Bai Wan slept for a whole day.

I just lay there in a daze.

When he woke up and struggled to get up from the bed, he immediately found a straw mat stuffed behind his back.

Bai Wan's expression was calm. Looking at the dark colors outside the window, she guessed that she had been resting for a long time.

Ling Shumo was boiling medicine at the door, while Cheng Su and the little monk Fakong were surrounding him by the bed.

"Master Mingxin!" the little monk called out, his eyes slightly red.

This eye is obviously weak and abnormally red and swollen.

"Hasn't Qingliang Temple been temporarily saved? Why are you crying, Fakong?"

Suddenly, the voice on the other end was choked.

"Master Kongming has passed away."

These words were written on a piece of paper and handed over.

Cheng Su closed her eyes and just looked at the ground sadly without saying a word.

All the monks were sent away except Cheng Su who was hiding and the young monk Fakong.

At that time, in the meditation room of the abbot of Qingliang Temple, the scene was frozen on the back of an old man.

Master Kongming, who was no longer breathing, sat upright on the cushion, motionless.

Peaceful Transmigration...

He was unwilling to return to secular life, and he also knew that the current scale of the Buddhist temple was not beneficial to Daqing.

Destroying the Dharma is destiny...

Bai Wan looked at the words on the paper and couldn't help but secretly complain.

"Master Kongming truly sees death as liberation. What a foolish old man... so foolish..."

Why are people so persistent?

Obviously, you can wait and see your results.

He suddenly laughed for no apparent reason, still trying to appear calm.

The young monk Fakong stepped forward:

"Brother Ling has already buried the abbot, erected a monument, and burned the Great Compassion Mantra."

Bai Wan looked at the person at the door quietly without saying anything.

I tried my best, but I didn't expect Master Kongming's death.

Just like Wang Sen's death, the deaths of the people of Baiyun City, all they could do was watch and listen, unable to do anything...

Bai Wan had seen too many people die in front of him, too many to count...

Taking out the powder booklet in his hand, a pair of hands that have painted the world sketched it stroke by stroke.

The outline gradually became clear, the face was calm, and the eyes were kind...

"It's the abbot!" the little monk raised his voice.

Bai Wan sighed softly: "Give it to you, as a thought."

He put the pen down slightly, tore off the drawing, and handed it to the other person.

Then, he closed his eyes, leaned forward and smiled sadly.

Cheng Su was watching from the side, and vaguely seemed to see the person who didn't remember who he was back then, who was also hiding his emotions in the same way.

Only, by then the person had forgotten how to paint.

"Little Pea, the dead are gone."

He wrote.

October 30th, the first year of the Qing Dynasty.

Bai Wan still won the bet.

The name of the mural "Ten Philosophers of Confucius" spread to the capital, and Song Yuanshan wrote a memorial to the emperor.

No one could have imagined that the main hall and Buddha statues of Qingliang Temple would be preserved.

At this time, all the Buddhists in the Qing Dynasty were filled with emotion, and even the monks who had returned to secular life were so excited that they cried and held their heads in their hands.

However, it is just an example.

Most of the other temples and Taoist temples were completely destroyed, but the gloomy clouds of the destruction of Buddhism and Taoism had not ended.

Who said that Han Miaoran’s resignation was useless?

Everyone knows that all this is due to Han Miaoran's paintings. Even if he resigned from his official position, he is still not comparable to ordinary painters.

He is now a very important figure in the painting world.

However, Bai Wan didn't care about these.

To him, these remarks were like the autumn wind blowing past his ears. They were even less important than eating a hot sesame cake.

After learning that Qingliang Temple had escaped the disaster, Bai Wan rested well in bed for several days and then went to pay homage to Master Kongming.

Bai Wan spent several days in the Sutra Repository reading books, thinking carefully.

After that, he began to retreat.

He always felt that although having too many Buddhist temples in the world was not good for the country, they did boost people's faith.

"Everything has two sides..."

"That wasn't Master Kongming's original intention..."

"The emperor's move is also beneficial to the people..."

"Be it Buddhism, Taoism, or Confucianism..."

Finally, Bai Wan decided to finish painting the remaining three walls of Qingliang Temple.

This was the last thing he did before leaving the temple.

Ling Shumo naturally fully supported this move.

Han Miaoran now seems to have lost all desire and does whatever she wants.

Ling Shumo only said: "Let's go together."

This sentence brought comfort to Bai Wan's heart, more than anything else.

No matter what happens, Zichen only needs to say one thing: Let’s do it together.

He understood him, after all, they were lifelong friends...

When friends interact with each other, they understand each other’s thoughts.

The setting sun is as red as blood, I hold thousands of pens and ink in my hands and think deeply, with the pen tied to my heart.

He guarded the west, south and north sides of the hall with great pains.

The paintings on the wall depict the three phases of Buddha: becoming a monk, attaining enlightenment, and entering nirvana.

And it took half a year to paint this white pea!

Half a year later, a woodcutter passing by saw the various scenes of Qingliang Temple while taking shelter from the rain.

The bold and unrestrained grand murals instantly struck me as so gorgeous and dazzling that I felt as if I were swimming in the painting.

The words echo each other wildly, like a sudden rain and a whirlwind, complementing each other.

When he searched for the signatures and inscriptions of the four murals, he found only two words:

Ink Dye——

Anyone who knows calligraphy and painting knows Ling Shumo and Han Miaoran.

It was also from this time that later generations began to refer to the two as the "Mo Ran Twin Heroes".