Before I died, I heard a story:
a robber boasted of his strength, and generously admitted the sin of humiliating a woman and killing a warrior; in
this case, the woman wept about her misfortune, and was abandoned by her husband because of the humiliation. excessive do not know how her husband died;
dying warrior witch by mouth, readme in pain himself;
woodcutter confessed witnessed by two men persuaded the woman, like wild dogs, like fighting, and finally lose-lose;
monk sidelines, after observers whole pile tragedy, but Cowardly, he leaned against the wall to chant Buddha, and also handed the abandoned baby to the greedy woodcutter.
In this incident, the three protagonists stated the content that matched their own identity, which was true or false, or half-truth, others were difficult to distinguish, and who would know if the passing woodcutter was the one who took out the knife in the chest of the dying person, The Venerable Master who recited Buddha's words stood by and watched... Hey, who can rely on each other in this incident, and who can be trusted, is this world really going to fall apart? !
The kid on the side sneered: So timid, fear is like a swaddle wrapped tightly around your body as thin as an earthworm, you haven't even been born yet, you've already cried like a fetus. Your virtue must have never been human.
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