Killing Monks

"Killing the Monk" is sparking a reading frenzy on Cola Novels, haven't you read it yet?

While unconscious, Guangyuan found himself in a fog.

The white fog stretched endlessly, obscuring both the path it came from and its destination.

He stood there, waiting.

Two people emerged from the fog.

A man dressed in monk's robes, bald, with a stern expression.

A man dressed in tacky clothes, with short hair and a playful smile on his lips.

Guangyuan looked at them and suddenly understood.

It is the Mirror of Observation.

These two "selves" are what are reflected in the mirror.

"What's wrong now?" he asked.

Wearing monk's robes, he revealed a cold smile.

"You can kill them all." His voice was soft, yet carried an indescribable seduction. "As long as you rely on me."

Guangyuan snorted coldly.

"You couldn't be relied on at the Lu residence last time either."

The person dressed in ordinary clothes interjected, "That time was different. That person was too amazing."

He shrugged, looking as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What if there are still such powerful people this time?" Guangyuan curled his lip, "Wouldn't we be doomed to die without a burial place?"

He looked at the two "selves" in a calm tone.

"I'll make my own plans."

The man in the monk's robes suddenly changed his expression.

"Like a stray dog ​​now?"

He took over, dressed in tacky clothes, his smile tinged with a hint of madness.

"How about a bloodbath?"

Guangyuan was too lazy to bother with them anymore.

He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes.

In the mist, the two figures were still talking, but he could no longer hear them.

He is still conscious, which means he is not dead.

He began to ponder, to recall, and to reflect on those three "gathering, transformation, and activation" moments between life and death.

Next time, he certainly won't be so embarrassed!

Hu Dafu traveled for most of the night.

The moon rose in the east and slowly sank in the west. He didn't know how long he had walked, only that he had lashed his whip again and again, and the wheels of his carriage had turned round and round.

I'm sleepy again.

I'm tired.

My eyelids felt like they were filled with lead, and I almost fell off the cart shaft several times.

He could still hold on. But the donkey couldn't.

The gray donkey reached a secluded section of the road and suddenly stopped, its four legs seemingly nailed to the ground, refusing to take another step forward.

Hu Dafu jumped off the truck and hurriedly rummaged through the cargo bed to find some hay, which he then held to the donkey's mouth.

The donkey chewed a few times, and then stopped moving.

No matter how much Hu Dafu pulled the reins, shouted, or pushed its rear, it wouldn't budge.

As we all know, a stubborn donkey can't be pulled no matter what.

Hu Dafu was frantic, circling the donkey several times, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He looked back at Guangyuan, who was unconscious in the back of the cart, then at the stubborn donkey, and finally could only dejectedly put down the reins.

I can only rest now.

He looked around.

Beside the road was a patch of wasteland, and in the distance stood a few crooked trees, beyond which lay the dark outline of a mountain forest. There were no houses, no lights, only the rustling of the wind through the grass.

He took out the dry grass from the cart bed and carefully covered Guangyuan with it, layer after layer, until the unconscious man was completely wrapped up.

Then he wandered around, looking for something to start a fire.

But the dew was too heavy in the early morning, and the dry branches we collected were all wet, so we couldn't light them.

He had no choice but to return to the donkey cart and sit down by the wheel.

Sleepiness washed over him like a tide. He dared not sleep, but just leaned against the bed in a daze, occasionally opening his eyes to look around and at Guangyuan in the truck bed.

The night grew deeper.

The wind is getting colder.

He curled up in a ball, hugging his knees, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

But he dared not sleep.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, a sharp shriek shattered the silence.

It sounded like the call of an owl.

But Hu Dafu suddenly snapped back to reality.

That's not a night owl.

It is a sound made by a person.

He suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction from which the sound came.

The sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn, and in the dim light, several figures were slowly walking along the path.

They were carrying a sedan chair.

A red sedan chair.

The red stood out starkly in the hazy morning mist, like a cluster of burning flames or a lump of congealed blood.

How could such a sedan chair appear in this remote place?

How strange!

Are they really human? Or are they monsters from the jungle?

Hu Dafu's eyes widened, and he subconsciously shrank back behind the donkey.

The group of people were getting closer and closer.

The sedan chair swayed and creaked.

As the sedan chair passed Hu Dafu, one of the bearers said, "Young master, there is someone here."

The sedan curtain remained completely still.

A moment later, a voice came from inside.

It was a very young voice, lazy and somewhat nonchalant.

"Kill him."

Hu Dafu looked terrified, suddenly raised his head, waved his hands frantically, and made "woo-woo-ah-ah" sounds.

Another man carrying the sedan chair glanced at him and frowned.

"Young master," he said, "this man is mute."

There was a moment of silence inside the sedan chair.

Then that lazy voice rang out again, this time with a hint of amusement.

"Are you mute?"

He paused.

"Then forget it. I, this young master, am also a man of compassion."

The sedan chair started swaying again and creaked away into the distance.

Hu Dafu broke out in a cold sweat, feeling as if he had been given another chance at life.

Even after the red sedan chair had completely disappeared into the morning mist, Hu Dafu's hands were still trembling, but he still walked up to the donkey and pulled hard on the reins.

This time, the donkey didn't act stubborn and slowly started walking.

The donkey cart continued on its way.

After walking for a while, Hu Dafu suddenly realized that this road was going in the same direction as the sedan chair.

They're all heading south.

They were all going to the Buddhist kingdom of Southern Tang.

His heart skipped a beat, but he had no other choice. He could only grit his teeth and continue driving.

After walking for most of the day, a small town appeared ahead.

Hu Dafu parked the donkey cart at the town entrance and went to buy some steamed buns and beef. He also bought hay and filled the cart bed to feed the donkey.

Then we continued on our journey.

Guangyuan had told him to drive.

Then you must drive.

No matter how scared, no matter how tired, no matter what happens.

You must drive.

Day three.

The sun rises and sets, the moon rises and sets.

Hu Dafu had no idea how long he had traveled; he only knew that the wheels kept turning and the donkey kept walking.

He leaned against the carriage shaft, dozing off in a daze.

Suddenly, a muffled groan came from behind.

Hu Dafu was startled and turned around abruptly.

Inside the truck bed, Guangyuan was slowly opening his eyes.

Finally, a trace of life returned to that deathly pale face.

"Ahhh—!"

Hu Dafu practically jumped off the cart shaft.

He rushed to the side of the wagon bed and frantically rummaged through his bundle for dry food and water.

He stuffed the water hyacinth into Guangyuan's hand, then handed him the steamed bun and beef, making "ah ah" sounds incessantly, his eyes reddening again.