You rascal, stop right there!

The rescued captives and civilians were crossing the river in boats, while the fire was being put out on the other side.

The fire in Shanhua Temple was raging, and even heavy rain could not put out the fire quickly enough. The entire temple was in chaos.

"Put out the fire!"

"The things in this temple are priceless!"

Pu En immediately ordered his disciples in panic: "Put out the fire! Put out the fire!"

However, the fires here were covered with tung oil and gunpowder by Bai Wan and the refugees who sneaked in through the secret passage, making them difficult to extinguish even in the rain.

The amount of fuel is huge and it cannot be extinguished easily. It can even burn for another day and night!

The monks who arrived and the original monks tried their best to put out the fire, but with little success.

Today, the entire Shanhua Temple is ablaze.

Some monks were even trapped in the meditation room because they fell asleep, and dozens of people were burned to death without even having time to shout.

"Master, this is terrible. All the brothers and sisters in the west wing have been burned...burned to death..."

Monk Guangzong felt regretful and sobbed.

"Where is the painting collection?! Where is my painting collection!" Pun anxiously grabbed the other person's collar.

Guang Xiao stammered, "Master, it's all burned...burned clean. The fire started in the Painting Pavilion..."

This was a fatal blow.

Pun shuddered and fell to the ground. It took a long time before he woke up after being pressed on his philtrum.

No, don't do that!

"My painting! My painting..."

"I have painstakingly collected Han Miaoran's paintings for ten years!"

He was so frantic that he almost wanted to cry. He couldn't believe this horrible nightmare.

The flames were about to burn the main hall, and the danger of being completely consumed by it was heartbreaking and burning...

Is this century-old national temple going to be destroyed in an instant?

Just when Pun was devastated and deserted, his eyes suddenly caught sight of a man half-lying against the wall, drinking.

As if he had finally found a lifeline, he hurried forward and said, "Painter Han is still here. As long as he's here, there will be more paintings!"

"Painter Han! Painter Han!"

Poon tries to wake people up.

Bai Wan suddenly sobered up, got up from the ground, and said drowsily: "Oh——"

"Master Han, all the paintings in my collection have been burned, and my temple has lost eighty-eight disciples!"

"I'm sorry about this fire accident..."

Accident?

Was it a man-made accident that he was working with several people?

Bai Wan, who was leaning against the wall, raised his head and looked at the people around him who were trying so eagerly to save the hall.

"A temple is a place where thousands of bones wither, and all kinds of sufferings are caused. Evil will be punished with evil."

He almost wanted to roar to the sky.

"Well burned! Well burned! Eighty-eight people died!"

He gestured with his fingers in the air: "Too little! Too little!"

……

Pun really didn't understand what this half-drunk and half-awake man was saying, so he pulled him and wanted to walk out.

"Master Han, the fire is about to burn into the main hall! Hurry up and leave——"

Bai Wan's eyelashes trembled slightly, the pen in her hand was clenched tightly, and blood seemed to be oozing out of her palm.

So he quickly pushed away the monk beside him, held the wine in his right hand, held the pen in his left hand, and faced the entire wall behind the hall.

"Master Han, why are you still painting murals at this time?"

Pun gave a slight warning.

However, when he wanted to pull Bai Wan out of the main hall again, he suddenly felt his legs go weak.

Pun frowned, feeling shortness of breath, and vomited a mouthful of black blood with severe pain in his lungs.

His hands were soaked in black blood, obviously caused by poisoning.

Guang Xiao, who was slightly poisoned, looked at him with fear in his eyes: "How could we be poisoned? This..."

"Don't touch other people's things anymore!"

Bai Wan responded in a deep voice.

"you!"

"you you!"

……

Master Puen and his disciples were speechless and were dying in great pain.

"I have no regrets, I even enjoy it and will not repent of my evil deeds."

Why not stop war with war and fight evil with evil?

White Pea yelled and rushed to the wall.

He was not afraid of the sin of killing, and the pen in his hand seemed to be full of evil intentions, and he would not regret it even if he died nine times.

Regret! Fear! Excitement!

He killed someone!

Killed someone again!

This time there are not just one, but nearly a hundred people!

The brush strokes on the paper become eerie and strange.

The power of the brushstrokes is so fierce that it is unbearable to look at. Only those who have fallen into hell can create such karma.

He painted evil spirits being subjected to harsh punishments such as pillars of fire, steel forks, and whipping.

He painted the endless tortures of hell, where sinners were shot or killed, their souls torn to pieces after being tortured.

He drew countless green-skinned evil spirits and double-tongued people with two faces. Those who did evil would fall into this hell after death.

……

The ten kings of hell are the Avici hells where those who do evil in the mortal world will be condemned to eternal damnation and suffer untold tortures.

If you were evil in life, your soul will not be able to die or live after death! Until trillions of years...

It is said that retribution will stop only when all sins are eliminated.

This wall painting depicts the cause and effect of karma and the Ten Kings of Hell.

Bai Wan took one night to complete this masterpiece, which would have required several people or even months to complete.

After finishing, he threw away his pen and drank the wine, smashing the jar with a deafening sound.

Dark clouds were coming over the sky, and there was lightning and thunder.

The Ten Kings of Hell display all kinds of appearances.

As a flash of lightning flashed, the rain fell even harder!

The wall of the main hall of Shanhua Temple was struck by lightning, blocking the flames, but the fire in other places was still burning...

This mural has survived and is known in history as "The Picture of Hell".