Qin Wenzheng said quickly: "Meijiao, forget it, let's go to the nearby temple first."

This girl seemed to be a little impulsive. If she couldn't help but move her hands, then it might not be as simple as being unable to cure the disease.

The background of Jin Chan Temple is so big that even the Prince of Nangong County doesn't look down on these two little monks guarding the road. If this girl causes trouble, I'm afraid the Prince of Nanguo County will also be implicated.

When the time comes, the Qin family will be unable to escape the blame.

Qin Weimo also said softly: "Sister Meijiao, don't embarrass the two young masters, let's go down."

Another younger monk, seeing her pale face and looking frail and delicate, could not help but feel sympathy in his heart, and said warmly: "Donors, don't be surprised, it is true that there are regulations in the temple. If we let you go up, we will

Regardless of being punished, you still can't get in, and there are still several senior brothers guarding the door."

Qin Wenzheng raised his hands and said, "May I ask my little master, how can I go up there?"

The young monk said: "Unless there are other senior brothers and uncles who know each other and can personally respond, or are invited by elders. There is another way. There is a Buddha chanting wall at the entrance of the temple below. If any of you can leave good pictures or paintings on the wall,

If your poetry works are appreciated by Master Huiming and carried to the temple above for collection, you will also be invited to go up there."

When Qin Wenzheng heard this, his heart moved. He pondered for a moment, cupped his hands and said, "Thank you, little master. Let's go down and have a look."

The two monks bowed their heads and clasped their hands: "Donor, please go slowly."

The group of people had no choice but to turn around, go down a distance, and walk to the road on the right.

After they walked away, the burly monk Fang sneered: "Why bother talking nonsense with them? Not everyone dares to scribble on the Buddha chanting wall. If you don't do it well and anger Master Huiming,

I'm afraid it will be another scolding. It's not like you don't know Uncle Huiming's vision. How can they have that hope? It would be better not to tell them and just refuse coldly."

The young monk sighed and said, "The female donor seemed to be dying soon. She was really pitiful. I couldn't help but say a few more words."

The burly monk said: "Your destiny is determined by heaven, so why worry about it."

The young monk wondered: "The Master Wukong they are talking about does not seem to exist in our temple. I have never heard of it. I don't know where they heard it."

The burly monk said: "I've never heard of it either. I guess I just found a random reason to go up and have a look and ignore it."

Qin Wenzheng led a group of people and walked towards the road on the right.

The road ahead began to widen, and tourists on the road were bustling with people. Those who went were carrying large and small bags in their hands, while those who returned had only a blessing bag in their hands, but their faces were full of peace and hope.

Before reaching the entrance of the temple, I suddenly heard bursts of cheers from the front.

Everyone in the Qin family looked up and saw a stone Buddha statue more than ten meters high sitting on the left side of the temple door.

The Buddha statue lowered its head, and a bluestone wall about two meters high stood below it.

At this time, in front of that wall, there were people crowding around, cheering loudly and looking quite excited.

Qin Wenzheng immediately led everyone over and walked over.

As soon as I got close, I suddenly heard a burst of curses: "What a bullshit, spring flowers, autumn moon, beautiful face, get out of your mother's balls!"

In front of the wall, a young man wearing a Confucian robe was standing there with a wolf hair in his hand and a stiff expression on his face.

The crowd that had been cheering just now suddenly became silent and quiet.

A tall middle-aged monk was cursing angrily as he picked up a bucket and poured water on the stone wall. Then he picked up a big brush and started brushing the ink that had just fallen on the wall.

Soon, the walls took on a new look again.

"roll!"

The middle-aged monk had a sinister face and glared angrily at the young man in Confucian robes.

The wolf in the young man's hand was trembling slightly, his face flushed, and he said angrily: "As a monk, how can you say obscene words? Here is this poem..."

"What bullshit poem? I think it's bullshit!"

The middle-aged monk retorted unceremoniously.

The young scholar suddenly trembled with anger, his face full of humiliated anger, pointing at him and saying: "You...you..."

"Bang!"

The middle-aged monk smashed a piece of the edge of the stone wall with one punch, and said angrily: "What should I do?"

"..."

The young scholar was immediately frightened and did not dare to say another word. He turned around tremblingly and walked away.

The crowd suddenly burst into jeers and laughter.

"I don't know how to compose poems, but I still go up to show my shame. It hurts my master and I have to work hard to wash it off. It's embarrassing."

"Without any self-awareness, how can he write scribbles in this place? Even great talents don't dare to write casually for fear of making people laugh. What kind of person is he?"

Everyone was sarcastically talking and seemed to have forgotten about the cheers and applause just now.

Anyway, they just came to watch the fun, and they naturally felt happy when they saw the scholars making fools of themselves.

There were several scholars from out of town standing next to them. Those who were just about to step forward to show off their skills and leave ink on the wall saw this scene and did not dare to step forward again.

The onlookers all turned their heads, looking at them and other scholars in Confucian robes, as if looking for the next target to watch the fun.

Seeing this, the few scholars hurriedly left.

The hot-tempered middle-aged monk glanced sideways at them, walked to the side of the Buddha statue, leaned there, closed his eyes and meditated.

Seeing that no one dared to come forward, the onlookers waited for a while and then dispersed in despair.

Qin Wenzheng looked at the stone wall for a while, then looked at the monk with a sinister face, and remained silent.

Song Ruyue glanced at someone and was about to speak, but she didn't dare to say anything.

Soon, the tourists dispersed.

Everyone in the Qin family stood alone in front of the stone wall, with sad faces on their faces.

Miss Qin Er said softly: "Dad, let's go to the temple here to burn incense."

Qin Wenzheng was silent for a moment, then turned around and said, "Let's go."

Song Ruyue opened her mouth, hesitated to speak, and finally did not speak.

Luo Qingzhou suddenly said: "I can give it a try."

As soon as these words came out, everyone stopped and looked at him.

Qin Wenzheng frowned and said: "Qingzhou, don't worry, let's go to the temple in front for a walk first, and then write it after you think about it. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't matter, we will think of other ways."

Luo Qingzhou cupped his hands and said, "Father-in-law, I'd better give it a try first."

The monk who was leaning on the stone statue with his eyes closed seemed to have heard his words. He immediately opened his eyes and said sullenly: "Boy, you can try it. After you try it, you can wipe the wall by yourself. If you don't wipe it clean, I'm a sandbag."

The big fist will leave a mark on your face."

Song Ruyue said quickly: "Qingzhou, forget it, you should think about it again. We will come back later."

Luo Qingzhou looked at the monk and said, "If the master is not satisfied, I will naturally wipe it off myself."

The middle-aged monk sneered, looked at him sideways and said, "I'm not satisfied now! All day long, a bunch of clowns with no self-awareness are here to embarrass themselves. Do you think you're great just because you can write some rubbish poetry? You don't mind.

Take a pee and look in the mirror to see what you look like, what you write is all nonsense, it makes me sick just looking at it..."

Luo Qingzhou ignored his scolding and turned around and said: "Qiu'er, Yanmo."

When Qiu'er came out, she took pen, ink, paper and inkstone with her.

Upon hearing this, Qiu'er glanced at him and immediately took out a pen and inkstone from the package, and then took out an ink stick.

The middle-aged monk's curses became more and more unpleasant and his voice became louder and louder, as if he was venting the anger he had been holding back for a long time.

When the tourists who had just dispersed heard the scolding, they immediately gathered around like flies that had smelled the smell of blood.

Luo Qingzhou looked calm, picked up the pen, and walked to the wall.

Qiu'er also carried the inkstone, walked over, and stood beside him, slowly studying the ink in her hands. Seeing that there were more and more people watching, she suddenly felt uneasy.

Qin Wenzheng and others also had uneasy looks on their faces.

Luo Qingzhou dipped his pen in the ink, pondered for a moment, dropped the pen and ink on the stone wall, and began to write.

Qin Weimo stood there delicately and delicately, staring closely at the delicate and powerful fonts.

Among the crowd of onlookers, there were several scholars who couldn't help but recite it when they saw this.

"It looks like a ridge when viewed from the side and a peak when viewed from the side..."

"Different are the distances, distances, and heights..."

"I don't know the true face of Foshan..."

"Just because I am in this mountain..."

Luo Qingzhou finished it in one breath and quickly wrote a song.

After several scholars finished reading, they all frowned and chewed.

The onlookers listened and talked about it.

"What do you mean by looking horizontally and vertically? What do you mean by far, near, high and low, in the clouds and mist, and what are you writing about?"

"Although I heard it clearly, I didn't understand it..."
To be continued...