I experienced the supernatural ghost first hand.

I have had countless experiences. What impressed me the most was the one I met last summer.

It was a very hot night, and the moon hung high in front of the window, covering everything in the room with a layer of blue gauze. Walking into the bedroom, I seemed to see a layer of mist fluttering.

I went to bed after washing, and when I was ready to sleep, I felt particularly cold. At midnight, the moon quietly hid.

At the end of the bed, a cold hand stole my right foot and saw that I didn't overreact. I boldly grabbed my right ankle, shivering with cold, and tried to move my foot to get rid of that hand, but I couldn't.

I know I'm trapped by a ghost and I can't wake up in my dream. I was thoughtful, nothing. It may just want to lean on me, and it doesn't hurt me. The cold hand, slowly touching up along the ankle, has touched my calf.

I got angry at once. I am really a bully and afraid of hard work. I'm just cheating others. I want you to lean on me to keep warm without affecting me, but you push your luck.

I began to read in my dream: Amitabha, Amitabha, Amitabha. At that time, I thought to myself: Why did I read the Buddha's name instead of the infinite origin of the Buddha? Will you be scolded by the master? Then I woke up.

After waking up, the right ankle is particularly cold.

When I saw the master the next day, I said that I was crushed by a ghost last night. The master knew everything, so he began to tease me with a smile and said, did you lose? You are soft-hearted, want to help anything, put yourself in the shoes.

The elder brothers and sisters were curious and asked me what was going on. I was embarrassed to tell my brother and sister. As a result, my brother and sister laughed at me in good faith and told me not to be soft-hearted towards the vagina in the future.

Finally, the master took out the moxa stick and whipped my ankle. Looking at my right ankle, the circle is light blue, and everyone feels particularly surprised and horrible.

The host muttered something while smoking moxa sticks. Seeing the light blue around the ankle, the master slowly washed it together with moxibustion to form a dark, irregular circle, like an ugly birthmark.

The master asked me, is it only the black ones that are particularly cold? I said yes.

The next day, the master slapped my ankle again and muttered something. As the master's hand slowly turns the animation circle, the black mark disappears with the naked eye, and with the disappearance of the black mark, there is still a cold and biting feeling.

This incident made me understand that after a person becomes a bardo, there is no humanity at all, just being driven by instinct to do things. Let the bardo be sent away as soon as possible!