The night is as cool as water.

Outside the guest rooms of Songshan Shaolin, the ancient pine tree is like a short spire, and on one side of the treetop is the crescent moon hanging in the distant sky.

Gu Lanxiang, who had just received the reminder through a letter with his teammates, hurriedly walked out of the guest room and courtyard, taking advantage of the stars and moonlight to find the Shaolin abbot.

In order to avoid suspicion, the Shaolin monks arranged a guest room for the woman. The house was built on a flat area in the back mountain. It was further away from the central area of ​​​​the Shaolin building than ordinary pilgrim guest rooms.

To walk all the way from here to Gulanxiang, you must first pass by the forest of towers and the forest of steles, and then several rows of houses used to entertain pilgrims and scribes.

Although it is already night, there are still many people in this deep ancient temple who are not resting.

Some people are counting rosary beads with their eyes closed and reciting scriptures silently among the forest of steles. Some people are reading classics in the house, and the dim candlelight illuminates a silhouette on the paper window.

Walking in the middle of the pine forest, on the road paved with square bricks, you can still see some monks in their prime of life practicing hard in the pine forests on both sides of the road.

A small leather sandbag hung from a branch. The monk, wearing gray clothes with half of his shoulders exposed, worked silently for a moment and then slapped it on.

When he took out his palm, he brought up a strong whistling wind. His palm slapped on the small sandbag, but it made no sound, making the sandbag motionless. It can be seen that the changes in hardness and softness in this palm have already been glimpsed.

share the essence of superior martial arts.

Although Gu Lanxiang had only been in Shaolin for a few days, she had a lot of convenience because she had Han Wengong's token at the time and asked directly to see the abbot of Shaolin. When she passed by, although she attracted some attention, it didn't matter.

No one came to stop her.

Her destination was originally the Abbot's Zen Monastery, but when she passed by the Main Hall, the lights inside were bright, the fragrance was lingering, and the sounds of old monks talking among themselves could be heard.

Turning around and looking into the hall, I saw that the person sitting on the futon in the middle of the main hall, with his back to the six-foot-tall Tathagata Buddha statue, his ears hanging down from his shoulders, and wearing a golden cassock, was not the abbot of this generation of Shaolin - the Master of the Past.

"Grandmaster!"

Gu Lanxiang said hello and stepped into the hall.

The deceased master smiled and greeted her, and the other old monk beside him also turned around and glanced at her.

He is also an "acquaintance", the head of the Shaolin Bodhidharma Academy, Zen Master Pingxin.

Zen Master Pingxin smiled and said: "Haha, what a coincidence. The poor monk was talking to the abbot about the ancient benefactor. Although the benefactor came for a short time, after reading those few Zen and martial arts books, he seemed to have vaguely understood it.

Menjing, the demonic thoughts in my body have become more and more dull recently."

"With such extraordinary talent and profound wisdom, I might be able to lend some chapters from the Diamond Sutra to give the donor an insight. If he can completely subdue his demonic thoughts, it would also be a great merit of Shaolin."

What he said sounded ordinary, but in fact the news he revealed was extraordinary.

The Diamond Sutra, also known as Diamond Zen, was written by Monk Tan Zong, a great general during the Sui and Tang Dynasties. It can be said to be the supreme inner martial arts manual in Shaolin Temple. From the first ancestor Bodhidharma down, the abbots of successive dynasties have written books and left a legacy of martial arts.

The secrets are second to none.

For the martial arts sect, anything that can be called a stunt level must be cherished and kept secret. It is extremely rare for such a sect's martial arts treasure book to be lent to others for free.

Something happened.

Gu Lanxiang was slightly startled. Although borrowing the Vajra Original Phrase Sutra was originally one of her goals, she never expected that she would be able to achieve it after just a few days here.

The deceased master observed her expression, smiled kindly, and said: "Amitabha, why should the donor be surprised? Shaolin teaches special skills. Although it has a reputation of being strict, it is also to consider talent, and is afraid that the entrustment will be to someone who is not a good person, and will bring disaster to the world.

"

He paused slightly and sighed, "In fact, even if it is so strict, there will still be some traitors who will come down from the mountain and commit heinous crimes, and escape to the world with impunity, which is infuriating and deplorable."

"Looking over the past few days, I see that your meditation skills are not inferior to that of Lao Monk, and your talent and state of mind are no different from those of some famous monks. In this case, Lao Monk and others have no reason to be self-conscious.

"

Gu Lanxiang's bright eyes moved slightly, and she clasped her fists and said: "These masters are open-minded and respectable. I am very grateful to you for borrowing the precious scriptures. However, I came late at night because I actually have an urgent matter to remind you."

She mentioned that a friend sent a message in a secret way, briefly describing the attack on Laojun Mountain.

The two old monks were stunned and their expressions changed.

The master of the past life frowned and said: "When it first fell into the night today, Lao Na faintly noticed a wisp of sword intent on the other side of Laojun Mountain soaring into the sky, expelling wind and breaking clouds. It's just that the distance is far away, so I can't be sure.

Now I hear you tell me that such a huge change has happened!"

"Shao Lingxiao survived a hundred calamities, colluded with Huo Luo Dao, and returned to the world."

The previous generation abbot of Shaolin, Master Nianshi, who was also the senior brother of the master in the past life, participated in the Southwest War ten years ago. After returning, he died within half a month.

On the eve of the Southwest War, the deceased master was selected to stay in the temple and preside over affairs. He never met Shao Lingxiao, but for the rest of his life, he will never forget the battle that his senior brother told him repeatedly, and he will never forget Master Nianshi.

He was still sighing until his deathbed.

"If I had not used the powerful Vajra Fist at that time, but instead used the flower finger to fight against the enemy, I don't know if I could have locked up Fei Guang for half a breath longer."

The deceased master fell into memories for a while. Compared with him, Zen Master Pingxin next to him was obviously much more excited and seemed even more unbelievable.

"Zhenren Yutu of Laojun Mountain, although he fought against the demons and suffered a lot of disasters and lost all his skills, Zhenren Tianfang is still there. There is a master commanding hundreds of disciples, who are connected with the same spirit and are as solid as gold. How can it be possible?

What kind of evil heretic captured him so easily?!"

Gu Lanxiang explained: "It is said that there are no traces of the Grandmaster's battle on Laojun Mountain. The Master Tianfang may not be in the mountain tonight."

"Is that so?"

Zen Master Pingxin murmured a few times, but in the end he still felt that it was better to believe that it existed than to believe that it did not exist. He turned around and said, "Brother Abbot, what do you think?"

"Be prepared." The Master of the Past came back to his senses and said, "If the demon sect is really coming back, they will raid Laojun Mountain without any warning, and their actions against Shaolin will be unpredictable, so they should ring the bell quickly, summon the monks, and let all the disciples

Keep your spirits up and be careful lately."

Zen Master Pingxin nodded repeatedly: "Invite several brothers from Luohan Hall, Bodhi Courtyard, and Discipline Courtyard to come over, adjust the accommodation, and do more patrols. We can gather together at any time to make sure everything is safe."

He set out to leave the Main Hall. He even used Qinggong to go there. Instead of taking the normal path, his cassock monk's robes were swayed by the internal force, passing diagonally across the square and flying directly to the bell tower on one side.

The monk's shoes lightly stepped on the guardrail of the bell tower, and he gathered the power of the Great Skanda Pestle to hit the thousand-jin copper bell.

This bell ringing is very different from the usual sound. It is like thunder in the void, sharp and golden, sonorous and powerful, echoing endlessly.

The bells passed over the palace, the Buddha statue, the Patriarch Hall, past the bronze statue of Bodhidharma, and went to the forest of steles, pagodas, and pine forests, ringing throughout every courtyard of the ancient temple.

There is a monk in gray clothes, at the edge of the forest of steles, stroking the stone tablets with his fingers, and carefully studying the scriptures left by the senior monks by the light of the stars and the moon.

Hearing the sound of the bell, he raised his head with confusion, and was about to leave to rush to the Main Hall, when his body suddenly froze.

There was a long silver needle on the bald back of his head, and the tail of the needle was still trembling.

The woman with the gold hairpin stepped into the forest of steles, holding a ribbon across her back in her arms, with a graceful posture, and looked at the place where the bell rang with a little doubt.

"Everyone must still be waiting for the signal, why are these monks ringing the bell first?"

"No matter what, it's never wrong to strike first and gain the upper hand."

The Protectors of Fire and Luo Dao, who had the same idea as this woman, rushed out from the shadows where they were hiding at the same time and chose a target nearby.

Just when the sound of the bell was heard, more than a dozen Shaolin monks had turned into corpses, and from two other courtyards, the sound of violent roars and shouts of fighting could be heard.

The ringing of bells and the sounds of fighting startled all the Shaolin monks one after another. Suddenly, hundreds of footsteps were heard, pushing open the doors from various courtyards near and far, holding up lights and walking quickly with sticks in hand.

In the main hall, the figure of the deceased master flashed and came outside the hall, looking up to the horizon.

I saw that the night was hazy, and the clouds and mists between the mountains were originally illuminated by the stars and the moon. Suddenly, a thick black smoke like a heavy rain cloud billowed up in the west.

The smoke evaporated, becoming wider and wider, and the sound of a horse's long neighing could be heard from the smoke.

In the blink of an eye, hundreds of galloping horses rushed down from the sky in black smoke.

These tall horses can actually run in the air. Their swooping posture is like a jet-black torrent that is about to overwhelm the entire Shaolin Temple. Their cries and neighs are getting closer and closer.

The terrifying momentum is far better than any raptor the Shaolin monks have ever seen.

Even the strong and fearless young warrior monks, who often chanted sutras and worshiped Buddha, raised their heads from everywhere and saw such a scene, and many people were so frightened that they exclaimed on the spot.

The deceased master lowered his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes into a slit.

Although he could not help but be surprised by such a strange sight, he could already vaguely see that when the horses were galloping, some parts of their bodies were vaguely blurred with clouds and mist, as if they were translucent, and were not completely real.

"Namo Amitabha!"

The Buddha's name is low.

The cassocks of the deceased master were fluttering, and dust was everywhere under his feet. The wind sounded like water dripping into a copper basin, wooden fish clanging, gongs blaring, and drums echoing. All kinds of mysterious sounds, each one more intense and louder than the other.

It was as if the energy in his body stirred up, setting off a grand gathering of Buddhist music that ranged from ethereal to majestic.

And the abnormal noises caused by the flow of true energy and all these are just preludes, just to set off the last sound of the lion among men, the sound of thunder in the clouds!!

When the deceased master raised his head and spit out that sound, from the front of his face, upwards, the sound hit the air rings one after another, amplified layer by layer, and finally turned into a milky white air wave.

The chaotic white air roared away and collided with hundreds of jet-black horses swooping down.

It can be seen that the silhouettes of the war horses at the front of the herd exploded into large clouds of black smoke on the spot, which were mixed together by the sound waves and continued to push towards the horses behind them.

The source of these Yin Qi horses is the "Five Horse Pagoda Lock" created by Sumu Taoist with the help of the power of Huo Luo Dao, after killing five hundred horses, absorbing the souls and resentments of those horses, and then sacrificing them.

After the training of this magic weapon is completed, once it is released, the horses gallop out. Because they have no physical body, they can step on the treetops, run through the clouds and mist, and when they bump into people, they can have an impact that is not inferior to that of real war horses.

The deceased master's roar of a lion dispersed most of these Yin Qi horses, but some images of war horses still managed to fall to the ground and galloped in all directions.

They passed through the wall, and the wall was not damaged at all. When they bumped into people, they immediately knocked them out. The situation in the Shaolin Temple was chaotic, and the fire was flashing randomly.

"Don't panic, these strange horses can be killed with true energy. Disciples quickly form formations and use their skills to protect their bodies."

The deceased master used his kung fu to transmit his voice, and his strong internal power caused his voice to cover the entire mountain. After two sentences of reminder, he immediately started chanting the sutra again.
To be continued...