You rascal, stop right there!

On the carriage.

Since the Jiaye Temple was located in the most remote area in the southern suburbs of the capital, Anian hired a carriage.

The space inside is small. Ling Shumo is wearing a blue robe with black bamboo dots on the folds of his clothes, which makes him look even more scholarly.

He looked at the man in white who was very close to him and couldn't help laughing.

I said I would go meet the master today, but I actually painted until late last night.

Bai Wan probably fell asleep in the early morning. She had dark circles under her eyes and her long hair was twisted into a mess.

The moon-white gown was tied loosely and casually, and Wen Qian's collarbone revealed a bit of intoxicating temptation.

He completed six painting scrolls last night as usual.

No matter what happened during the day, no matter how much time was squeezed in. At night, even if it was late at night, it had to be done.

Paint all eight jars of water and dye the clear pond and stream with ink.

For others, and also for yourself.

The index finger and thumb of his left hand are already covered with thick calluses, and the paintings he draws are no longer the same as they used to be.

Ling Shumo looked at the clearly visible calluses on his hands, feeling distressed. He stroked the white lotus jade pendant around his waist, feeling somewhat helpless.

With a sad look in his eyes, he hesitated and said to himself: "Do you know that you made me make a mistake?"

After calming down, he shook his head again.

The fault is not with the person, but with the heart.

If it were someone else, his heart wouldn't be so confused.

It won't be so completely messy.

Now that Ling Shumo has met this person in this life, it’s all over.

Someone who was half asleep and half awake said in a daze: "What did you say was wrong?"

The person next to him smiled slightly and hid the jade pendant casually: "Nothing...nothing!"

Bai Wan narrowed his eyes suddenly and looked at the man with an inexplicably complicated expression.

As long as the expression says no, then it most likely is!

This isn’t the first day he’s known Ling Shumo.

He is obviously a young man from a wealthy family, but sometimes he acts like a shy girl, which is really weird.

If this man still behaves like this after he gets married, he will probably be bullied by the other party.

He sighed softly and patted the man on the shoulder helplessly:

"Brother Zichen, don't worry. Even if you make any mistakes, I will help you make up for it. As long as you say the word, I will go through fire and water..."

The person on the other side burst out laughing.

"What if I say I want to go against the laws of nature with you?"

Bai Wan held up her chin and smiled: "As long as it's not too much, it doesn't matter. But what do you want to violate? Eating, drinking, gambling, cheating, deceiving, I've done it all."

Then he glanced at the handsome and elegant young man in front of him.

"But you're such a rule-abiding gentleman, those things don't suit you. You won't disobey them! You must be kidding me!"

咳—

Ling Shumo just felt inexplicably upset and didn't know how to tell this person.

Therefore, he did not answer, fearing that the man would notice something and become serious again.

However, no matter how he tried to control himself, his eyes couldn't help but look towards the person opposite him.

It is true that if the heart does not follow the actions, the actions will not follow the heart.

At this moment, the carriage shook slightly.

"Sir, we are here."

……

Kasyapa Temple.

Because this place is remote, it is not very popular and there are not many pilgrims, only the sound of some deep bells.

Bai Wan took one step at a time, tilted his head and looked around, not knowing what he was looking at.

I felt that this Kāśyapa Temple was indeed an ancient temple, and all the buildings and Buddha statues were of extraordinary value, so I looked around following the murals not far away.

Suddenly, he was attracted by a colorful mural in the temple.

This painting depicts the story of a man in red becoming a monk. In the upper part of the picture, the man is riding on a cloud, and thousands of gods are riding on the clouds and mist, clearing the way for him with torches. It is very spectacular.

"Is this painting unfinished?" he asked.

However, before he could finish, a white-bearded monk came towards him and asked.

"How does the donor know that this painting is not finished?"

The white-bearded monk bowed and saluted Ling Shumo with a kind look.

"Master, you are polite." Ling Shumo clasped his hands together.

"Master, you are polite, you are polite!" Bai Wan also imitated Ling Shumo.

When the white-bearded monk saw the newcomer, his eyes seemed to be filled with excitement. He looked at the man in front of him with great emotion:

"My benefactor, long time no see, I hope you are well."

Ling Shumo looked at the monk seriously and said, "Are you the Chan master who traveled around the world and sent me letters?"

Liao Chan said calmly: "The donor has been looking for it in many places, which shows his sincerity."

Ling Shumo looked at Bai Wan solemnly: "Master, this person is Han Miaoran from back then. You said in your letter that he stayed here for a while six years ago..."

He didn't say anything else, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

The people around them looked at them angrily: "Oh, I stayed here for a while? Then what was I doing?"

Liaochan did not directly answer his question about the painting, but asked kindly, "Why do you say that this painting is not finished?"

Bai Wan held up her chin and said, "I don't know, it's just my intuition. This painting is very sad! It's like going to die!"

"Why do you say it's going to death?" Le Chan continued to ask.

"I'm right! The painting of the man in red is clearly not finished. Did you tie up the carriage? And the torches below are all blue. How can he be a Buddha? His face is full of sorrow. He looks like he is mourning."

Bai Wan spoke with certainty, pointing at the murals one by one.

Hearing this, the people around him couldn't help but look at him sideways, and he stopped talking only after a few people started to make a fuss.

"Please be merciful, the painter did draw this picture before he died." Master Liaochan glanced at the people around him and said, "Among all the pilgrims coming and going, only you can understand the meaning of this painting."

"Am I the only one who can tell?" Bai Wan glanced at the man in the mural again. His eyebrows and eyes were like paintings, and his temperament was noble, but he was in the clouds but seemed to be shaky.

Master Liao Chan nodded and said, "Do you know the story of the ancient Buddha Dipankara?"

Hearing this, Ling Shumo's throat tightened and he stopped.

"The ancient Buddha Dipankara?" Bai Wan asked doubtfully.

"In ancient times, the heaven was in chaos, and boneless relics were needed to destroy demons, but the relics could only be offered by sacrificing oneself. So Dipankara sacrificed himself to save the three realms - he was the ancient Buddha Dipankara." Master Liao Chan murmured.

"This Buddha is so stupid!" Bai Wan sighed.

Master Liaochan added: "This painting, Chasing the Heart to Become a Buddha, was originally a work of survival, but in the end it became a resolute and desolate scene of wanting to throw oneself into hell and waving goodbye to the world. The painter was in pain and determined to die."

Bai Wan's fingertips touched the mural, and a subtle emotion appeared in her eyes.

"This painter is too stupid. If he dies because of this, his relatives and friends will definitely curse him to death in the underworld! If a person is gone, everything is gone. What's the point?"

Master Liaochan glanced at the man and said, "How about you complete this painting?"

Hearing this, Bai Wan timidly said, "A Buddhist place! Isn't this bad?"

"No problem. I have a small sample of the blueprint for this painting."

After a while, the master ordered his disciple to bring a wooden box.

Bai Wan swallowed and took the pen, ink, paper, inkstone and sample.

These days, he is no longer the ruffian with poor painting skills.

The writing on paper flows smoothly and has the style of a master.

In one go, the man in the original sketch had his eyes closed, his lips were raised, and the blue flames were changed to golden torches. The carriages were all added with dragon horns and scales, flying in the clouds.

He picked up the brush and ink and ejected countless golden water droplets, causing countless golden beams to appear on the screen, and the entire picture became peaceful and Buddhist.

So from birth to death, from death to birth...

"This mural was painted by me back then, right?"

Bai Wan looked at the painting and sighed: It was so desolate and resolute five years ago, and only I could understand the brushwork and painting style. As long as I think about it a little, I can understand...

This is a more sad painting than "Frosty Forest".

Liao Chan nodded slightly and said: "Donor, you once stayed in the Jiaye Temple for a month, and spent day and night painting the best picture in the world."

“No one knows what you painted back then.”

"But that day, you were done, and you walked out with the scroll."

"You looked up to the sky and said you finally succeeded!"

"Before leaving, he painted this mural here, saying that if he returns, he will complete it. If not, it will be a farewell forever..."

"Since then, you have never come back..."