There is a sentence in Kenzo's joke, what is God?

Year after year, during the Qingming Festival, the remains of Luo Dao no longer exist, and the original bustling scene of Li Ducheng was restored. No one remembers the Taoist priest in the white robe, and no one remembers the enthusiastic disciple.

Huashan Mountain is still covered with snow, but the scene of disciples' enlightenment in front of the two instruments is gone. How about Wanhua Valley? No one knows that this desolate valley was once full of flowers, and a group of laughing teenagers once lived here.

What is the Emperor God, what is Zhengyang, and what is Can Xue? No one knows, and no one remembers, the oath of the pike to keep the soul of the Tang Dynasty alone.

No one would have thought that the huge deserted courtyard near the West Lake was once a place where martial arts experts were fascinated, and those unruly but kind-hearted swordsmen hid here to guard the flowers. The wall of Ce Tian Mansion is still so high, and the bloody horizon flies over several goshawks, but I can't hear the majestic roaring of mountains and tigers in the martial arts field.

When Tang Jiabao gradually fades out of the topic people are talking about, no one will ever know that there are many fearsome killers in that dark place. They wear masks and carry thousands of boxes, the contents of which can kill people in an instant.

The silver bell in the scenic spot gradually disappeared in the torrent of years. Who will watch it again? The young man covered in silver ornaments, arrogant and lofty but kind-hearted, holding a clever giant toad, smiled and asked in unclear Zhongyuan dialect: Who knows how to get to Luoyang?

The bell of Shaolin is still ringing, but those who defend the whole world for the Buddha have disappeared. No one remembers that day. 100 More than one Shaolin disciple knelt outside the temple and sang Buddha's voice. Finally, only one person came back.

On the bank of Slender West Lake, willows are lush, blue waves are sparkling and lotus fragrance bursts, but no one will remember thirteen women in seven show. No one will remember the day when Ye Fang's master personally lit exquisite pavilions with torches and took hundreds of graceful women to the battlefield to fight for the country.

Monks know that there are many things that can't be said.

Just like the peach blossom exposed outside Lidu City during the Qingming Festival every year, like the dusty broken soul in the sword grave in hide the sword West Lake, like the masked man in the depths of bamboo forest in Shu and the purple butterfly behind him, or like this faded brocade fan in his hand.

This should have been forgotten, but I can't. Over time, I can only be locked on the top of the sutra depository with bloody white clothes. Maybe a hundred years later, when someone asks what happened that year, the monk will still put his hands together, take a deep breath of fireworks in front of the Buddha and say, "Amitabha Buddha said: Don't say it."

Pure Yang Zita Law, hidden sword, immortal rock and thick ink.

A gentleman is like wind and cast iron, and a red horse roars the east capital.

There are thousands of evil spirits in the flying star town of Jiugong, which eats the heart and blows the flute.

Violets have also turned into shura, and red makeup can also gouge out people's hearts.

I still remember how many things happened in the prosperous Tang Dynasty. I would like to listen to a song of loyalty and righteousness.

Please adopt! ! !