Chapitre 207: Nirvana Fire Is Like Fireworks, Bodhisattva, Put Your Palms Together and Help Me (1)

The misty smoke drifted down, and a cold late spring breeze blew over, stirring the pink spring plums all over the mountain to sprinkle down on the stamens.

The white walls and black tiles of the Literary Department buildings were enveloped in the mountain fog, like a painting of a mountain. It crossed the Literary Department's white jade pendant shop at the foot of the foot of the mountain and passed through the deep path. Young flowers fell to the ground on both sides, forming a flower canal-like scene on the limestone road.

In a straw hut hidden in a few banana trees, green smoke from the carbon stove curled up.

At the gate of the straw hut.

A yellow pear wood chessboard was intertwined with a few black and white chess pieces on the board.

Two old Confucian-robed figures sat opposite each other and were chatting.