We had a full day rest in the village. Liu Yan ordered to go down not to disturb the villagers, but found a sheltered place on the village road and set up tents. At night, I went out to see the snowy moonscape, but I saw a very surprising scene.

A full moon rose in the inky blue sky, the moonlight was hazy, and the villagers sat cross-legged on the ground, some of them were old and young, and the adults were just eleven or twelve years old, and their little red faces were unusually religious. The crowd chanted collectively towards the temple high on the snow-capped mountain in the distance. The scriptures are in Tibetan, so I don't understand them. A lama wearing a thick monk's robe walked through the crowd and tapped the ritual instrument rhythmically, and the sound of the villagers' recitation of men, women and children was sad and empty, and the sound was very shocking.

When I saw Vice President Li coming over, I asked her in a low voice what was going on.

Vice President Li said: "I just asked, this is the villagers praying for blessings to the sacred mountain. This has been the custom of their village for nearly a thousand years. ”

At this time, the little Nepalese man came over with his trouser pocket, looked at us, and said lightly: "There was a legend a long time ago that the sacred mountain and the Lotus Temple would be destroyed by a catastrophe. The villagers are born on the mountain, and their affection for the mountain has been deeply rooted in their bones, so they spontaneously carry out prayer activities. ”

It was the first time he had spoken Chinese, and we were all a little uncomfortable.

The little man in Nepal looked at the lama who was walking in the crowd, and his expression was a little abnormal: "This is Rash Lama, a famous wise man in the Lotus Temple, who rarely goes down the mountain, and I actually saw him today." He looked at us: "You outsiders, I have seen that you are not some kind of mountaineering tourist, and you must have your own purpose." I would like to advise you, please do not destroy every grass and tree here, they all have gods, they are the spiritual sustenance of the villagers for thousands of years. ”

Li Yang smiled: "Friend, you're too worried, we're just here to play, let's see the strangeness and leave." ”

"I hope so." Said the little Nepalese man.

The prayer ceremony of the villagers ended in about half an hour. It's not a long time, too, the mountain wind is very strong at night, the temperature is very low, and there are so many children, so it's better to freeze again. However, although their faces were red from the cold, they all looked excited, and their eyes were pious and ethereal. I was a little stunned, I had never seen such a pure person in such a big life.

The people in the city, all with deceitful eyes and smiling skin, occasionally encounter a true temperament, which is as rare as a sewer meeting a sanitary ball. And in this plateau, in the village under the snow-capped mountains, everyone's eyes are pure and bright, and they have faith.

At this time, I saw that the lama known as Rush was introduced by a small Nepalese man and was talking to Liu Yan.

Rush, who probably looked to be in his early thirties, was very thin and tall, and like the Tibetans, he had a very red face, chapped lips like tree bark, and wrinkles on his face, just like the Tibetans. Li Yang looked curious, pulled me over, and Yang Shanshan followed behind like a little tail.

Liu Yan seemed to be talking about going up to the mountain to worship the temple, and Rush spoke in more awkward Chinese, meaning that he wanted to go back and ask for instructions, and he didn't dare to make his own decisions.

As he spoke, he looked up and saw us. I could clearly see that his otherwise calm face suddenly twisted and turned, and his face was shocked and then sad. I looked at Li Yang, and he was also puzzled, what is going on with this lama?

Rush seemed desperately trying to hold back his tears, his lips trembling, and he hung his head slightly before leaving.

"Little master." Yang Shanshan beckoned, and the stupid eldest sister ran over directly and grinned: "Little master, I saw you last time I went to the temple." Have you forgotten? My name is Shanshan. ”

Rush had calmed down and smiled faintly, "Hello. ”

"You seem to be upset to see me, huh?" Yang Shanshan said.

Rush looked back at the temple under the moonlit night in the mountains and said softly, "Is it really a disaster?" He didn't say anything, hurried away, and walked up the hill.

I said worriedly, "Walk the snowy mountains at night, don't have anything wrong." ”

The little Nepalese man gave me a blank look: "The lama of the Lotus Monastery don't talk about the night, even if you are blindfolded, you can walk on the Duoxiongla Mountain." ”

Yang Shanshan was in a very bad mood, sullen, and tears were rolling in her eyes: "He, why does he ignore me?" ”

Li Yang patted her, we don't know what to persuade, the whole thing is mysterious and abnormal, we can only take one step at a time.

When I got up the next day, I washed my face and was smoking a cigarette when I saw two lamas coming from the entrance of the village. One of them was Rush from yesterday, and the other was a little older, estimated to be in his fifties. The two of them walked up to Liu Yan respectfully and said something in a low voice.

Liu Yan nodded, came to us, and said, "You guys will go up the mountain with me today." There was no room for negotiation, and he said to Vice President Li: "Xiao Li, you can let the others stay put, and you are not allowed to move if I don't come back." ”

The little Nepalese man happened to be standing outside the tent to wipe his face, and when he saw us following the lama up the mountain, he was quite envious and beckoned. But no one paid any attention to him.

In addition to the two lamas, there were four of us, Liu Yan, Li Yang, Yang Shanshan, and me. Liu Yan couldn't walk fast, so she had to let the lama hold her. The 50-year-old lama held such a child in his arms and walked on the snow-broken mountains, walking on the ground as if he were walking on the ground, without breathing. But we were miserable, the mountain road was rough and steep, and there was snow falling, and it was very slippery. People swished up, and a few of us had to crawl on the ground, using our hands and feet together. After walking all morning, I couldn't lift my waist and vomited blood from exhaustion.

Stop and go, and finally come to the temple before nightfall.

Mountain wind hunting, the sky of the snow-capped mountains is not black, but a dark sapphire blue, incomparably deep. Outside the temple gate, the inlays are blown by the wind, and the ups and downs are like rolling waves. At the door there was a brazier lit, and several lamas were there.

The brazier burns, the bright flames are boiling, and the blue-black sky is infinitely far away, which can make people can't help but fall into a meditative realm.

Rush led us into the temple. The whole temple is built along the mountain, and many rooms are built along the trend of the mountain, and when you look up, you can see that there are lights in the sporadic rooms, and the others are all black holes, like some kind of nest, and it looks a little gloomy.

Rush led us into the scripture hall, where the lamas were chanting, and the Sanskrit sound in the scripture hall was faint, and the sound of the Dharma instruments sounded rhythmically. This kind of scripture is similar to a chant, chanted by so many people, and has a majesty and vitality like the tide of the sea.

What shocked us the most was the lamas who chanted the sutras in the hall. There were about thirty people, and except for the seven or eight adult lamas sitting in a row in front of them, the remaining twenty or so people were all children about ten years old.

They have bald heads, wear ochre-red lama robes, and their faces are slightly red, and they are very cute. Don't look at the children, their eyes are incomparably deep and clear, and they all fold their hands and recite the scriptures reverently. What's weird is that some children still wear thick myopic glasses.

Liu Yan raised her eyebrows, her hands trembled, and the older lama was still holding her.

She motioned to put it down, walked behind the chanting lamas step by step, and sat down in a seat. She doesn't chant, she just closes her eyes and listens quietly. After listening to it for a while, tears actually flowed down from the corners of his eyes.

"Who are these people?" Li Yang asked Rush softly.

Rush said: "It's all Zhugu, which is what you call the reincarnation of the living Buddha. ”

Li Yang and I were stunned, all the people sitting in the hall were reincarnated.

At the front of the hall, there are countless yellow curtains, and the walls are painted with murals of Tibetan Buddhism. Because of the age, the color is dark, but at this time, it seems to have a very sense of vicissitudes and history. It depicts people dressed as lamas, and it seems to be able to connect them into an ancient story, but we don't have the knowledge of this and we can't understand it.

Walk here, no one dares to make a time, at that time its sacred and majestic, the scriptures seem to be able to penetrate the mind, at first glance it sounds a little harsh, and after a long time, their consciousness unconsciously follows the rhythm of the scriptures.

There is no concept of time at all, and I don't know how long it was, when the chanting was over, the lamas stood up in turn and lined up to go out from behind. The whole process was methodical and silent. It didn't take long for the prayer hall to be empty.

Liu Yan stood up, wiped the tears from her face, and walked over to Rush and said, "I want to see the Master." ”

Rush clasped his hands together and looked a little sad: "Come with me." ”

We went out from behind, there was an open-air wooden ladder, and we went up, layer by layer, through several rooms, to a narrow Buddhist hall. Outside the house is a small platform on which you can see that you are already standing on the top of a mountain range. The moonlight is like water, and the mountain wind blows, blowing the robe and clothes of the Rash Lama. At this moment, it seems that a monk and a mountain are so harmonious and sacred, I can't help but sigh from the bottom of my heart, what is life? For the first time, I realized the greatness of life.

The four walls of the Buddha hall are covered with yellow-red patterns, and there is a Tibetan-style offering table in the middle, and a person is sitting on a high chair behind it. This is a chubby, kind-eyed old monk, with snow-white eyebrows, standing on his chest in the shape of a flower in one palm, his eyes are wide open, and the corners of his mouth are smiling slightly, looking straight at us who walked in.

As soon as Yang Shanshan saw him, she cried "wow" and knelt on the ground and kowtowed: "Master, I'm back again." ”

Rush endured his grief and patted Yang Shanshan: "Master, he has ...... Gone, here's the statue. ”

Yang Shanshan cried even more and kept kneeling on the ground. Although we have nothing to do with this old master, and we have never seen a real person, we only see the statue in front of us. But looking at him, I couldn't suppress the sadness in my heart, and I couldn't say why. The old man looked so kind, and his eyebrows were so vivid that he didn't look like a statue at all.

Rush said, "The guru's head is made in France, and his body is made in Bhutan, and it is enough to see his Dharma shine in the world, and there is no distinction between regions. ”

Liu Yan asked calmly, "Who is the lama who is presiding in the temple now?" ”

"Please come with me." Rush said lightly.

We walked through some of the rooms, where very few people were there, and almost every room was darkly lit. We didn't dare to ask more, so we had to follow him. The structure of this temple is very complex, room after room, corridor after corridor, it seems to occupy a small area, but skillfully use the mountain structure, layer upon layer between square inches, like a labyrinth. I don't know who the builder is, it's really ingenious, and there is no other chance.

We came to a Buddhist hall where there was nothing but a huge silk cloth hanging on the four walls. A group of lamas, young and old, were gathered on the ground, their heads touching and not knowing what they were doing.

Rush brought us over, and I saw that the lamas were making a huge thangka out of colored powder on the ground.

This thangka has begun to take shape, colorful, colorful and elegant, with a solemnity unique to religion. The lamas are prostrating themselves on the ground, carefully using special metal tubes to gently draw the pigment powder down to form a pattern.

The thangka is painted with two layers of circles, which are set together to form a huge wheel-like pattern. All around are painted with people and animals, all of which are the same.

"What is this?" Liu Yan asked.

Rush said: "This is called 'Spajo', which translates to 'Six Paths of Reincarnation'. ”