The alluring fragrance wafted in, and she swallowed her saliva and her stomach grunted uncontrollably.

She was not polite, walked forward, stretched out her hand to take the warm porridge bowl, she was already an old nun, and this stranger seemed to be over the age of six, he had been cultivating the fields of the nunnery for more than 30 years, although he rarely met on weekdays, rarely spoke, but year after year, he ate the rice and vegetables he offered, and she had already regarded him as a person in the nunnery.

The Buddha said: All beings are equal, men and women are equal, color is emptiness, and emptiness is color.

Even if he is a man, he is also an old man who is dying, even if she is a woman, she is also an old nun who eats fasting and recites the Buddha, even if he is in the nunnery at the moment, he takes a bowl of warm porridge from his hand, it will not blaspheme the Buddha and insult the reputation of Buddhism.

"What about you? Have you eaten it? ”

"I have."

The stranger took out another bowl of porridge from the basket behind him, sat down on the steps, and drank slowly.

The jackdaws perched on the old trees babbled and crowed, sending a wave of gloom and vastness for no reason.

She lit a dim oil lamp, sat down at the wooden table that had not yet had time to decorate it, and drank the warm white porridge with chopped pickles, which tasted delicious.

Both of them were quietly drinking white porridge.

She never asked his name, nor his past, but she knew that the stranger had been working in the fields outside the nunnery more than thirty years ago, when she was a little nun and he was a sturdy farmer in the prime of life.

And he rarely speaks on weekdays, in the past, when he came to pay the rent, it was mostly the teacher who went too to receive, and in recent years, the nuns in the nunnery have scattered and died, and when he came to pay the rent on time with the grain, she would accept it.

She has been a Buddha all her life, and she is naturally not familiar with the types of grains, but she doesn't have to worry about acceptance.

Each time, she led him to carry the grain to the storeroom, took out the book, and recorded it on it, and then he turned and left, never saying much.

Occasionally, he would say, "Leave a hole in the door for the cats to come in, so that the rats will not dare to come and steal the grain." ”

She folded her hands together and bowed her head in response, "Hmm." ”

She drank the warm porridge slowly, the night breeze carried a faint cold, she gathered the shabby plain clothes on her body, and the burnt yellow leaves fell to the ground, oh, it was autumn.

"I still have some freshly harvested sweet potatoes and peanuts there, I picked them up and sold them in the market tomorrow, pulled a few feet of linen and cotton back, and wanted to ask Mrs. Shi to help make two cotton jackets, can you?"

She stopped, swallowed the porridge in her mouth, and looked up at him, only to realize that the stranger was wearing a set of tattered clothes that showed his tanned dark and red skin.

She folded her hands together and recited a sentence of Amitabha, saying, "Poor nuns can barely sew for their difficulty, but they are not good at it, and it may be very ugly." ”

He smiled, and the wrinkles on his face stretched: "It's okay, it's good to be warm." ”

The next evening, the stranger brought two pieces of linen cloth and a bag of snow-white cotton.

The linen cloth is navy blue, the surface is very rough to the touch, but the inside is extremely soft, she shook the fabric, a little surprised, such a material should be expensive, right?

"Have you planted a lot of sweet potatoes and peanuts this year? Last two months, you picked up ten loads to put in the nunnery, and I didn't think there was anything left. ”

"Not much, but enough to survive the winter, I still have radish buds in the field, you don't need to worry about it."

He looked at the washed white plain clothes on her body, and suddenly grinned: "The fabric and cotton are enough to make several sets of cotton jackets and pants, and it will be cold after winter, so Mrs. Shi, you can also make two sets of warm clothes for yourself." ”

Her hand gestured in the air, and she said, "It's disrespectful to be so poor, the padded jacket should be sewn in ten days, and the donor will come to collect it at that time." ”

Ten days later, the stranger came as scheduled, and she handed him the two sets of cotton jackets and pants she had sewn with some embarrassment: "You go back and try it, if it is not suitable, take it back and let me modify it." ”

The stranger was very happy, and took the padded jacket with his big rough hand: "Thank you for the cold weather, have you sewn a set for yourself?" ”

She gently stroked the fingertips that had been punctured by the needle, and whispered, "I'll start sewing tonight." ”

The stranger took out a small bottle from his bosom and put it on the wooden table: "This is medicine, if it hurts, apply a little." In two days, I will come to cook porridge and give alms, but your hand hurts, so don't get wet. ”

The stranger took the two padded jackets she had made, hummed a little tune that she could not understand, and she picked up the small bottle he had placed on the wooden table, the bottle was warm and delicate, and she could not help shaking her head, she could not imagine that he was an old peasant, and that he had such small things hidden in his body.

She pulled up the cork and poured a little on her fingertips, and a cool breath seeped into the faintly aching fingertips, and she couldn't help but exhale softly.

She has learned a little bit from her mother since she was a child, but after escaping into the empty door, she mostly knocked on the wooden fish with a mallet, and she has long forgotten the skills in this world.

But since he made a promise, even if the handwork was poor, he still had to sew the cotton jacket well, and the stranger did not take the cotton jacket back for her to modify.

She just buried her head in scooping the porridge, until the last bit of rice porridge at the bottom of the pot bottomed out, then she raised her eyes to look at him, well, it looked quite pleasing to the eye, the dark blue in the late autumn evening, flowing a faint warmth.

He paused and smiled.

"Isn't it pretty?"

"It's okay to ......"

"That's because you're good at it."

Her face burned for no reason: "No, that's because you look good in it." ”

She really sewed a set for herself, and this cotton jacket was really warm to wear, like holding a small moving stove, wearing this cotton jacket, she could kneel in front of the dull Buddha, withstand the cold wind leaking through the broken window, knock on the wooden fish, and recite the scriptures until late at night.

As usual, the foreigners still work at sunrise and rest at sunset, pay the rent on time, and come over twice a month to help her cook porridge and give alms.

A year later, there were rumors of good deeds in the community that the old nun in the nunnery was unwilling to be lonely, and hooked up with the old man who rented the fields in the nunnery. ”

The little daughters-in-law and the boys were very interested, and rushed to the nunnery to see what this old nun looked like.

But they were all disappointed, all they saw was a shriveled and thin old nun, her face crisscrossed with wrinkles, just sitting quietly on the broken futon in front of the Buddha and knocking on the wooden fish, half-squinting her eyes, as if she were asleep and reciting the same scriptures.

They quietly walked to the field rented by the stranger, pretended to dig wild vegetables, pricked up their eyes and looked carefully at the stranger who was burying his head in pulling weeds, the old man seemed not to know that someone was peeping around, he plucked the grass for two hours, took the water bladder, took a few mouthfuls, and then picked up a hoe and turned over the two ridges of the ground, sprinkled the green vegetable seeds, and did not forget to go to the stream to pick up a load of water and water the ground thoroughly.

When the sun sank down to the western mountains, the group of good deeds followed the old man from a distance, to see where he was going to stay, but saw him enter a thatched hut next to heaven and earth, and squeak shut the broken wooden door.

Smoke was rising, and the old man was cooking.

They were disappointed, and after a day of hunting, they had no catch, so they had to return in disappointment.

One day, after giving alms of white porridge, she called out to the stranger who was burying his head in cleaning the iron pot, hesitated for a while, and said in a low voice: "Don't come to the nunnery in the future, I still do this porridge and donation, you are busy with the work in the field!" ”

His hand holding the rag paused.

She coughed lightly and explained, "There is a difference between you and me, and it's not good that you always come to the nunnery. ”

He was silent and said in a muffled voice, "What are you afraid of?" ”

"People's words are terrible, this is a pure place of Buddhism, how can it be tainted by rumors?"

"If it is a rumor, how can it be tarnished? The Buddha is in the heart, the situation is born from the heart, you have been reading the Buddha all your life, are you still so stubborn? ”

"Donors, there is a difference between men and women"

"How old are you?"

She wondered, how old am I this year, you don't mention it, I almost forgot about it, I entered the nunnery when I was thirteen years old, cut my hair and became a nun, how many years have I been so far?

She thought for a long time before she whispered, "Poor Ni may be one in fifty this year." ”

He grinned and said leisurely: "I'm forty-four this year, you say, what are you afraid of when you live to this age?" You just have to recite your Buddha with peace of mind, I plant my land with my heart, how can I pay attention to the gossip of others? ”

She was a little stunned, and glanced intently at the foreigner in the navy blue cotton jacket, he looked back at her and smiled slightly: "What are you afraid of?" ”

Suddenly, she folded her hands and recited a sentence of Amitabha, saying, "Since the donor is open-minded, then let it be." ”

She turned around and walked into the main hall, knelt on the futon, picked up the mallet and struck the wooden fish again and again, and the ethereal sound echoed in the silent nunnery, clear and natural.

Like a rooted log, he stood on the edge of the threshold and looked at her emaciated back, his eyes full of pity and regret.

That night she knocked on the wooden fish, and it was not until dawn that she sat and took a nap in a daze, unaware that he had stood under the eaves all night, and the dew wet his frosty hair, and his eyes only looked at the back of the slender old man.

The days that followed were still the same as before, she chanted the Buddha, he ploughed the land, and when he harvested, he picked up the nunnery, and on the fifteenth day of the new year, he appeared in the room early in the morning, buried himself in cooking porridge, he never let her do it, just let her sit by the stove and add a fire.

Ten years have passed.