"Thousands of snow trees behind the sand temple, ten miles of incense in front of Changle Fang. That's not only in ancient poems, but also in our Myofa Temple. The long, powerful and long-lasting sound of the bell comes from the rain of flowers flying in the sky, making everyone standing under the tree feel like they have accidentally entered a fairyland. If I could, I would like to stay under the pear blossom tree forever......."

Xia Bizhu was moved by An Su's words, as if she had also stood under the pear blossom tree.

"Wissan and Zi, they must stop respectfully." An Su suddenly said this, which seemed to have nothing to do with the pear blossoms flying in the sky that she said before.

Although Xia Bizhu was puzzled when she listened, she also knew that this poem would never be read out casually, so she listened quietly.

"Bizhu, have you ever seen a mulberry tree?"

"Yes, but not in my hometown."

"The mulberry tree was planted by my parents, and I saw that Mulberry was easy to miss my parents and respectful." Wissan and Zi will stop respectfully', this is how Jingming explained to me. There is a big old mulberry tree in our yard, which my father planted with his own hands when he was a child, and the branches and foliage are so thick that one tree can cover the whole yard. The fruit of the old mulberry tree is particularly delicious, sweet and sour. Grandpa made me a swing under the old mulberry tree. That year, I sat on the swing every day and watched the old mulberry tree bear fruit early, because Jingming had never eaten mulberry, and I wanted him to taste it too. That year, the old mulberry trees bore a lot of fruit, and they were full of fruit, and I watched them turn from white to red, from red to purple-red, and finally to purple-black......"

On that day, going up the mountain with her grandmother was the most enjoyable day An Su had since she arrived at her grandparents' house, because she had her first friend, a little monk named Jingming. When Ansu followed her grandmother down the mountain, Jingming sent it to the gate of the mountain, smiled and waved to their grandchildren, and watched them leave.

After returning home from the temple, Ansu pestered her grandmother to tell her about Jingming. Grandma told her that she was a year older than her and that she was an outcast picked up by Venerable Zhishan, the abbot of Myofa Temple, during his wanderings three years ago. Venerable Zhishan said that Jingming has a relationship with the Buddha and has a very high level of understanding, so he has been kept in the temple. He had never been to school, he had never even been to kindergarten, but he was very intelligent and could already read many words, even the obscure scriptures he could memorize very quickly. He also studied calligraphy with Master Zhishan, and was already good at writing at a young age.

In the evening, Ansu lay on the table and painted, while her grandmother did needlework on the side.

Although the grandmother couldn't understand what Ansu was drawing, for the old man, she was happy when her granddaughter was happy. From time to time, the old man leaned over to see what his granddaughter was drawing, as if he were drawing two children. She knew that her granddaughter was too lonely, and the old man couldn't help but sigh and continued to bow his head and get busy with the work in hand.

Suddenly, Ansu stopped scribbling and looked up and asked, "Grandma, what do you mean by an outcast?" ”

Grandma didn't raise her head, and replied while busy with the work in her hands: "It's the child that Mom and Dad don't want." ”

An Su remained silent and continued to graffiti. She felt very sad in her heart, it turned out that the little monk was even more pitiful than her.

Grandma sighed lightly, picked up a needle and scratched it in her hair, and said to herself: "How could parents be willing to abandon such a smart and beautiful child?" ”

An Su asked while graffiti: "Grandma, can I often play with Jingming in the future?" ”

Grandma's eyes lit up, she raised her head and nodded, "Yes, Jingming is a very good child." ”

After a while, Ansu's painting was finally finished. She looked at her work with satisfaction, and on it were two children, a little girl with two pigtails, and a little boy with a bald head. She said to her grandmother seriously: "Grandma, Jingming can't speak, not dumb. You can't say that about him in the future. ”

The grandmother stopped what she was doing and looked at her granddaughter in amazement. Although the old woman didn't know the difference between not being able to speak and being dumb, her granddaughter made a sense of asking for it, and the world of children was always pure and pure, so she solemnly agreed to her granddaughter.

Since then, Ansu has often run to the mountains.

Jingming was also a lonely child, and the person in charge of taking care of him was a young novice named Jingtang, the youngest monk in the temple except for Jingming. In addition to Venerable Zhishan, he is the closest to Jingming. Jingtang was in charge of the work of the temple room, and did not have much time to accompany him, and the rest of the monks around him were already adults. Although his brothers loved him very much, the temple was a solemn place, no room for play, and adults could never understand the world of children. Maybe it's because you can't speak, maybe it's because of the growth environment, or maybe it's because you're born like this, Jingming has a quiet personality, behaves solemnly at a young age, and does things in an orderly manner. This is completely different from Ansu, who is in full swing, but this does not affect the relationship between the two children.

Often deaf and mute people will always babble in their mouths and gesture with their hands when they need to express themselves, but Jingming is different. Everyone had never heard a sound come out of his mouth, and he always gestured quietly and gently after a little thought, or took out a small notebook and wrote it directly.

To everyone's believability, Ansu and Jingming were able to communicate smoothly from the beginning. Although Jingming can't speak, he can hear, which is different from ordinary deaf and mute people. Later, Ansu learned that he was not born unable to speak, but that his vocal cords were damaged. Ansu could communicate with him effortlessly, and she could understand every simple gesture he made. This made the monks in the temple feel very strange, because often the pure light was compared for a long time, and they did not understand what he had to say. It wasn't until he learned to write and was able to express himself fluently in writing that their communication began to flow smoothly.

That's how wonderful the world of children is. It's like two seven or eight-month-old babies sitting next to a pile of toys and the adults can't understand what they're playing. However, the two children can communicate very smoothly, they can clearly know what toys the other person needs, and know how to pass them to him. This is the instinct of the child, and it is also the language that is unique to the child's world, which is incomprehensible and inaccessible to adults.

In March, pear blossoms are in full bloom.

When the wind rises, the flowers and rain fly all over the sky, and the fragrance is wafting for ten miles. From playing in the temple to outside the temple, there is Anso's cheerful laughter everywhere. The two read and played under the pear tree, and let the petals flying in the sky fall on their heads and shoulders at will. Tired of playing, the two sat side by side under the pear blossom tree to rest.

An Su picked up a pear blossom on Jingming's shoulder and asked, "Little monk, will this pear tree bear pears?" ”

Jingming nodded and gestured, "The pears of the pear trees here are very sweet. By the time it is August, you will be able to eat sweet pears. ”

An Su suddenly remembered the old mulberry tree in his yard, "Little monk, do you like to eat mulberries?" ”

Jingming shook his head and gestured, "I haven't eaten or seen a mulberry tree. ”

When An Su heard this, he was very happy, and immediately said, "There is an old mulberry tree in my yard, I will take you to see it next time." Now the fruit is still white, and when it is ripe, I will bring it to you to taste. ”

Jingming smiled and nodded.

From that day on, Xiao Ansu sat on the swing every evening, looking at the fruit on the mulberry tree in the yard to ripen early. For children who are eager to offer treasures, the days when the mulberries are ripe such as swings are undoubtedly long.