An old man wearing a red monk's robe, with a slightly hunched back and sparse gray hair, was kowtowing his head in front of the Buddha shrine. The little lama whispered, "Please wait for the master to finish his homework before speaking." ”

The old man stumbled meticulously for about fifteen minutes before slowly stopping, he turned around, folded his hands, and nodded at everyone.

Russell replied, "These are two of my friends, and it's not convenient for me to stay there tonight." I'd like to spend the night here, I'm sorry for the trouble. Tomorrow, I'll pick them up. ”

The master glanced at Li Guanghan and "Chen Aili", nodded slightly, and said, "Since they are your friends, and you personally sent them to the island at night, then I will let them stay overnight." It's just that they can't live in the main temple, they can only live in the row of bungalows outside the temple. The life on the island is difficult and the conditions are simple, please understand. ”

The little lama led Russell, Li Guanghan, and "Chen Aili" out of the temple and groped their way to the row of bungalows outside the temple by the light of a flashlight. This row of small bungalows is a temporary residence for nearby believers to walk on the ice and go to the island to worship every winter when the West Sea freezes. It's been months since it was occupied. The little lama opened the two rooms and lit the oil lamps, and a layer of ash rose in the room, and a smell mixed with ghee and musty smelled came to his face. "Chen Aili" frowned and covered her nose, reluctantly went in to take a look and then withdrew. She looked up at the stars helplessly and sighed.

Li Guanghan looked at her painful appearance and quipped: "It's okay, Xiao Chen, fortunately, you just took a hot spring, so you don't have to take a bath today." But he was thinking to himself, to see how long you could hold out and when you would show your true colors.

The little lama left a boiling water bottle and went back, and when he left, he said that he would come early and ask them to go to the monastery for breakfast. Russell also rushed back overnight, and Wang Xiaoman still needed him to deal with it.

Lee Kwang-han slept for five or six hours in the afternoon under the influence of the chip, and now he is in good spirits. He opened the door to let in some air, and he moved a wooden bench and sat on the empty grass outside, looking up at the sky. The moon had disappeared into the clouds, and the starry Milky Way he had hoped to see was gone, except for the North Star.

The night wind carried the chill of the plateau, blowing a little biting. Li Guanghan went into the house and put on a coat and came out, and when he looked up again in the familiar direction of Sirius, he saw the shining and colorful little star hidden behind Sirius. This was the brilliant flash he had seen on his balcony, and the star that twinkled rhythmically and regularly on the White Birch Forest Observatory at the Horn Ditch Gate. Its flickering light varies in length and speed, repeating itself at intervals, like a human-controlled light show.

Li Guanghan became more and more energetic, he followed the rhythm of the starlight, recalled the rhythm of the last time he memorized it in the birch forest of the horn ditch gate, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was exactly the same. It seems that the last time he and Deng Lao discussed the scientific basis of this issue, the hypothesis put forward by Deng Lao was tenable. That is, he has the ability to perceive photon particles like a robin, and can catch small changes in photon particles. He wondered what this sequence of photon signals meant. Does it have any special meaning? Is it a string of passwords or a string of symbols?

Lee Kwang-han pondered in the night sky of the silent island in the middle of the lake, his mind unusually clear. He knew that all these changes were not a coincidence, but the result of the convergence of all chances, and an inevitable arrangement.

The oil lamp in "Chen Aili's" hut was extinguished, but she could still be heard tossing and turning. Li Guanghan thought to himself, it is really difficult for this wealthy daughter, what kind of power and temptation attracted her to suffer so much? How can I secretly find a way for her to control me without her finding out?

In the rainy season, the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau began to rain lightly at night, and Li Guanghan finally slept soundly in his humble hut on this inaccessible island in the middle of the lake.

The next day, just after dawn, the little lama came knocking on the door and said that the master had invited them both to have breakfast together. Although the conditions of Li Guanghan and "Chen Aili" last night's accommodation were simple, they both slept soundly. Basking in the morning breeze, they watched the morning glow reflected on the golden roof of the temple, the brightly colored Gesang flowers blooming on both sides of the dirt road, and the morning bell of the temple echoing over the empty island in the middle of the lake.

The table where the monks had breakfast was next to the humble kitchen. The fire was burning very well in the earthen stove. The gray-white noodles were boiling in the boiling water, and the little lama scooped them up, put them in a bowl, put some salt, and brought them to Li Guanghan and "Chen Aili".

Looking at the breakfast with little water and no oil star in front of her, "Chen Aili" was a little hesitant. Like other monks, Li Guanghan immersed himself in eating it, but he didn't expect that such a simple and light food would have an indescribable sweetness and aroma when chewed. He couldn't help but praise it, and turned his head to urge "Chen Aili" to eat it while it was hot.

The temple together with the old guru has only 7 monks. After breakfast, the adult monks went to chant. The little lama who left the minor took Li Guanghan and "Chen Aili" to take a casual look around the main hall. On the door of the main hall hangs a line of Tibetan script, which the little lama says means "lotus". The temple is more than 2,000 years old and can be traced back to the Qin and Han dynasties. Since then, these ascetic monks have locked themselves up in this place far away from the world to study the scriptures and meditate on enlightenment.

The little lama led them around to the back of the temple, where there were several huge mani piles made of many stones, with prayer flags fluttering on them. Li Guanghan found that there was a small hill not far away, which was composed of granite and gneiss, slightly milky white, and the slopes were full of Gesang flowers. They still wanted to go forward, and the little lama said that the guru had finished chanting the sutra and would talk to them in the main hall for a while.

The sun shines into the main hall, and butter lanterns are lit under the majestic and tall Buddha statues, and the flames sway with the breeze. The old lama sat on a yellow futon, holding a rosary in his hand and reciting words in his mouth. Lee Kwang Han and "Chen Aili" sat cross-legged on the futon opposite the guru and took a sip of butter tea.

The lama's face was covered with deep wrinkles from the hard life of practice, but his old cheeks could not hide the sparkle in his eyes. Lee Kwang Han asked the Guru what was the strength that sustained him for many years of penance here.

The lama replied slowly, "Penance is not painful, in fact, the most difficult thing in life is 'me'. Cultivation is to let go of the 'me' and achieve a state where there is no 'me'. When we reach the point of having no 'I', we let go of life and death, right and wrong, success or failure, honor and disgrace, fame and fortune. ”