Chapter 446 The blood of a poor monk can be used as a decoction for Mengpo

After hearing Fahai's words, Sanqi couldn't help but shine, and said with joy, "Master, do you know how to make Mengpo soup?"

"Slightly heard."

Fahai nodded.

"Master, please come in quickly."

Sanqi invited Fahai into Mengpozhuang.

Fahai walked into Mengpozhuang, his legs were immediately hugged by the dead soul, and the dead soul burst into tears, crying so sad.

"Master, save us, this Meng Po soup is really awful, it's horrible."

There was an extra long whip in Sanqi's hand, and he slammed it on the dead soul, "You said the Mengpo soup I made was bad?"

"Master, help."

The soul howled miserably.

Fahai's mouth twitched slightly. It seems that he still underestimated the power of the Meng Po soup made from Sanqi, which could make the souls so frightened.

Sanqi violently ripped the dead souls away, and said to Fahai with a smile, "Master, sorry, these dead souls are sinful."

"Mengpo, you will be condemned by God if you torture us again."

The soul pointed at Sanqi in horror.

Sanqi snorted softly, "You are the one who makes your own mind. You can leave after drinking Mengpo Tang. Who told you not to drink it."

"Does your Mengpo soup someone drink it?"

"Are you human?"

"Master, if you listen to what Po Meng said, she doesn't treat us as human beings."

The dead soul cried out to Fahai again about the crime of Sanqi.

Sanqi threatened: "Go away and don't disturb the master. If you are not obedient, don't blame me for being polite."

With that, Sanqi's eyes flashed sharply, and the long whip in his hand was alive and well.

The souls were so scared that the whole Mengpo Village was in chaos.

"Amitabha!"

Fahai recites the Buddha's name, the light of the Buddha diffuses, and in a moment, the noisy Mengpo Village becomes quiet.

The Yin Binggui who looked at the dead soul like a statue looked at Fahai.

These ghosts only travel between Mengpozhuang and Guimenguan, and are responsible for escorting dead souls to Mengpozhuang. Therefore, the news is very closed and I don't know Fahai.

Sanqi looked at Fahai's eyes with small stars shining, "What a powerful mana, this master should be an eminent monk in the world."

Fahai glanced over the fearful dead soul, and slowly said, "The poor monk came to Mengpozhuang to help Mengpo make Mengpo soup. You can wait at Mengpozhuang."

Sanqi shook his head when he heard Fahai's words, "Master, this is not possible. There are so many dead souls who come to Mengpozhuang every day. If they are waiting in Mengpozhuang, Mengpozhuang will be in chaos."

"There is a poor monk, Meng Pozhuang can't get into chaos."

Fahai said with a smile.

Seeing Fahai's vows, Sanqi couldn't help asking: "Master, dare you to ask that treasure temple on earth?"

"Poor monk Jinshan Temple Fahai."

As soon as these words came out, the evil soldiers and ghosts and dead souls in Mengpozhuang were all stupid in place.

For a long time, a ghost said in shock: "Are you a great majestic and great virtue saint Bodhisattva?"

Fahai smiled and nodded.

Hiss--

There was a sound of air-conditioning in Meng Po Village.

They have heard of the name of the Great Majesty Saint Bodhisattva, but have never seen the true face of Fahai.

Now that Fahai has admitted, how not shocked.

At this moment, Sanqi opened the distance with Fahai in a panic, with uneasy eyes.

"Why is Po Meng like this?"

Although Fahai had guesses in his mind, he still asked.

Sanqi said cautiously: "Aniang said that only the blood of an Arahant can kill Meng Po. Since the master is a Bodhisattva, his mana must be higher than that of an Arahant, I am afraid."

"Why would a poor monk attack Po Meng for no reason?"

Fahai shook his head.

Sanqi put down his guard and asked in a low voice: "Bodhisattva, how do you help me make Mengpo soup?"

"Meng Po, how do you make Meng Po soup?"

Fahai asked with a smile.

Sanqi laughed, "Is the Bodhisattva testing me?"

With that, she explained the recipe of Meng Po soup like a few Jiazhen. Then, she smiled bitterly and said, "Meng Po Tang needs eight tears as a medicinal ingredient, and is made with yellow spring water. I collected seven kinds of tears, including raw tears, old tears, and bitter tears. Only the sad tears do not know. Where did it come from. Without the last tears of sorrow, the taste of Meng Po soup cannot be changed."

"Does the Bodhisattva know how to collect sad tears?"

Fahai looked at Sanqi and said, "Meng Po, the last medicine used to make Meng Po soup causes sadness and tears. You still don't know the origin, lest you fall into the boundless sea of ​​suffering."

Sanqiyi was stunned, "Bodhisattva, you can't make Mengpo soup without sadness and tears."

Fahai didn't answer Sanqi's words, but stepped forward to the big tripod where the smell was floating. The flames under the Ding were burning, and the bubbles of Meng Po Tang in the Ding were tumbling. Sanqi followed Fahai, and she wanted to know how Fahai would help her refine Mengpo Tang. Because her mother-in-law said that without the eight tears as a medicine, it is impossible to make a real Meng Po soup.

"Sanqi, can the poor monk taste the taste of Meng Po soup?"

Sanqi was thinking about the problem, and suddenly heard Fahai's words, and waved his hand quickly, "Bodhisattva, the Mengpo soup I made is unwilling to drink even ghosts."

"It's okay."

Sanqi stared at him in a daze, then took a porcelain bowl and scooped a spoonful of Mengpo soup for Fahai.

Meng Po Tang is as clear as water, but it exudes an unpleasant smell.

Fahai took the Meng Po soup and drank it, bitter into his throat, like drinking magma.

The suffering of all beings seems to be in it.

Fa Hai closed his eyes and felt for a moment, then opened his eyes and said with a smile: "This Meng Po soup is indeed difficult to get into the throat."

Sanqi smiled awkwardly.

Fahai recalled the formula of Meng Po Tang. Meng Po Tang’s eight tears were the inspiration: one drop of raw tears, two old tears of money, three points of bitter tears, four cups of regret tears, five inch tears of lovesickness, tears in six cups of sickness, seven feet Farewell tears, this eighth taste, is the sad tears of a Po Meng. Meng Po Tang's eight tears are used to attract, remove its bitterness, and leave its sweetness. After such a torment for a lifetime, it will make a good soup.

The essence of Panax notoginseng is lacking, and it doesn't think about lust, so it can't collect sad tears.

Sanqi blinked, "Bodhisattva, tell me how to make delicious Mengpo soup."

"The blood of a poor monk is the last medicine. Only by melting the blood of a poor monk can a good soup be made."

As he said, Fahai forced out a drop of Buddha's blood, and in an instant, the Buddha's light enveloped the entire Mengpo Village, and drifted away from the Yellow Spring of eight hundred miles.

The waves of Huangquan rolled, and soon calmed down, even the whimpering wind disappeared.

Underworld Yinsi, the Brahman sings loudly.

The souls of the entire underworld became calm and peaceful when they heard this soul-shocking Buddha singing.

The reason why Fahai came to Mengpozhuang to help Mengpo make Mengpo soup was actually to repay the teachings of the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva stood opposite the Lingshan Buddhas for him, and he could not always enjoy the shelter of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. What should I do for Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva?

His Buddha's blood contains his Dharma, which is blended in the Meng Po soup, which can make the souls who drink the Meng Po soup feel his Dharma, and indirectly help the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva fulfill his great aspirations.

The Buddha's blood bounced into the cauldron, and the Meng Po soup boiled even harder. The original clear soup was glowing with a hint of golden light, and the smell of the Meng Po soup seemed to have become fragrant, and it smelled extremely attractive.

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