There is no nail in the mountains, and the cold does not know the year.

Quanling Ancient Temple, winding path through secluded, this day the fog is filled, the mountain road is difficult to walk, so that the incense in the temple is cold, and the mountain gate is lonely.

"The old spirit on the Sansheng Stone, don't talk about the moon and the wind. I am ashamed that my lover visits each other, although the opposite sex will last forever in this life......"

Dressed in a blue monk's robe, a pair of hundred cloth shoes, and a prayer bead that rotated silently in my hand, I stood outside the temple gate, my eyes looking at the mountain road covered by the mist.

The fog in the mountains, the frost and cold dew were heavy, and the little apprentice beside him let out a cloud of white gas from his mouth, rubbed his hands, raised his head and asked:

"Master, did you think the benefactor would come back?"

I reached out, touched his head, and smiled:

"The donor said, yes."

"Have you waited until then?" The little apprentice asked rhetorically.

My heart darkened, and I was noncommittal.

I have indeed seen many sentient beings here, including young people in their thirties who are still depressed, young people who come to the temple in groups at the age of seventeen or eighteen to petition, and of course, I have seen many red men and women who are trapped in love, and I have witnessed some life and death......

How many hundred times? Thousands of times? Or tens of thousands of times?

I can't even remember the exact number because of the number of times, but there was one time that stood out to me.

"Master, is there anything special about the benefactor you are waiting for?"

The apprentice knew me and asked rashly.

I stared at his little face with kind eyes and said, "If there's anything special, it's probably that he never worships Bodhisattvas." ”

The apprentice scratched his head: "What's so strange about that?" ”

"But he also made a vow." I'll unravel the mystery.

"That'...... He doesn't believe in bodhisattvas, to whom does he make a vow? The little apprentice was confused.

I tapped his heart with my fingers, and the apprentice was tickled all over, laughing and running away.

"Master, it's time for morning class!"

He ran into the temple gate and reminded me in a loud voice.

"Knock-knock-knock-"

At this time, the morning bell in the mountains rang, and the birds in the forest flew in shock, bringing out a long tail of mist surrounded by clouds.

I took one last look at the unchanging mountain path, then turned around, turned my rosary and carried my hand behind my back and carried it into the temple.

……

……

In the temple, there are two places for monks to learn Buddhism, one is the Dharma Hall, which is dedicated to preaching the scriptures and teachings; A meditation hall for monks to participate in meditation and sit in meditation.

In the middle of the Dharma Hall, there is the Buddha of Virujana sitting on the Sumeru seat, this statue is nearly four meters high, and the wooden tire is covered with gold lacquer, although it is old, it still does not lose the sense of glory and grandeur; On the side, the wooden statues of Manjushri and Fuxian are separated from the left and right, the statue is more than 2 meters high, the wonderful appearance is solemn, and the carving is exquisite; The two sides of the main hall are divided into eighteen Arhat sitting statues, the wooden tire is gilded, the craftsmanship is exquisite, and the wonderful ones are ready.

In the monastery, the sound of the drums of the morning chanting of the monks sounded, and there was an ethereal sound like a heavenly sound, which made people feel peaceful, but only heard their voices, but did not see them, and in this huge lecture hall, only me and the little apprentice sat opposite each other.

Soon after, I heard a strange sound of stumbling clothes, and the apprentice's meditation was very poor, and I opened my eyes in front of the Buddha and saw his immature appearance pretending to close his eyes.

I smiled indifferently, his closed eyes saw my expression, and he also opened his eyes, and asked curiously:

"Master, you are so wise, why do you still meditate like me?"

I pointed to the falling leaves outside the door and asked:

"What are you going to do if the leaves fall to the ground outside?"

The little apprentice replied very quickly: "Sweep it clean!" ”

"But the leaves grow new shoots every year, and they fall again at the end of the year."

"That's right, so I have to clean it every year, but it's annoying......"

I clasped my hands together, "So, Master, no different from you, it's just sweeping the floor." ”

The little apprentice didn't seem to understand, he scratched his head and pleaded:

"Master, you still tell stories, I still like to listen to stories."

I asked him, "Where was I last time?" ”

He replied, "You said you were going to tell me a vixen story!" ”

I was a little dumbfounded, thought about it, and then thought about it, and said slowly:

"Once upon a time, there was a monk named Baizhang Zen Master, every time he opened the altar to speak, there was an old man standing in the corner of the hall to listen to the Dharma devoutly, this situation accumulated day by day, lasted for many years.

One day, Zen Master Baizhang was moved to think about why this old man would come every time, so after the lecture that day, he left this old man alone, asked him to come forward, and asked him why.

The old man clasped his hands together and said sincerely, Master, in fact, I am not human, I am originally a wild fox in the mountains, and every time I come here, I want to seek liberation from the Dharma.

Baizhang Zen Master asked, how to seek liberation?

The old man said, 500 years ago, I was also a master of the Dao, and I was also the presiding officer of this temple, because I said the wrong thing, I had a 500-year-old fox body, so I asked the master to give me relief.

It turned out that five hundred years ago, the fox, who was still a mage at the time, met a believer who asked him for clarification, and asked him, "Great cultivator, is it still cause and effect?"

In other words, people like you are still not bound by cause and effect? ”

At this point in the story, I paused slightly, and the little apprentice asked impatiently:

"What did the old fox say?"

I turned the rosary in my hand and said in a deep voice:

The old fox replied, "No cause and effect." And it was this sentence that made him fall into retribution, and since then, the fox body has been reincarnated for 500 years, and he is miserable. ”

The little apprentice asked, "Master, what is the correct answer?" ”

"The answer, just by saying, is inexhaustible......"

I closed my eyes and continued my meditation.

The little apprentice was anxious, stood up and shook my body, and the sound of seeking answers was noisy in my ear—

"Master, Master, did that fox finally turn back?"

"Master, Master, what do you mean by cause and effect?"

"Master, Master, I'm cold and hungry, look at me......"

"Master, Master, I'm in so much pain! You save me......"

"Master, Master......"

The apprentice's immature voice came from all directions, near and far, or the coquettishness of love, or the piercing and terrifying poignant, or the sad whimper of the listener, in these repeated questions, there seemed to be countless questions and infinite emotions.

It's just that in the face of these, I am already an ancient well, and I chanted:

"If you want to ask about the cause of the past life, the recipient of this life is, and if you want to know the consequences of the next life, the person who does it in this life is, I am the same as you."

“……”

Suddenly, all the annoying sounds receded like a tide, and my body no longer shook, and I only heard a gust of wind blowing in my ears, mixed with a reverberation that was fading away:

"Master, Master, I left something behind in the back mountain, you can do me a favor and help me put it away......"

When I finally opened my eyes, there was silence in the temple, and there was no one in front of me......

"Ahh

With a long sigh, I slowly got up from the futon, left the Dharma Hall, and walked slowly towards the back mountain.

The pine forest along the road is quiet, and at first the fog in the mountain rises out of the pine forest, hanging on the pine needles and smearing among the green rocks.

And as I walked deeper and deeper under the cliff behind me, the dense layers of mist squeezed the sky by half, and it seemed that the mountains and rivers all over the world were overwhelmed, and I couldn't distinguish the boundary between heaven and earth, and I couldn't see the roads, plants, and living beings.

I walked alone through the fog, with no mountains in sight, no road in sight, but these did not hinder my direction.

I've been in this mountain for a long time, and I don't know how many times I've walked this road.

From time to time, a slightly chilly mist hit my face, brushing over me, looking sticky and cold, and at this moment a mountain breeze blew, and I stopped.

Little by little, the ridges of the mixed woods and mountains were revealed, and when I looked up, a small pavilion outside the mountain could be faintly visible on the mountainside, and I lowered my head, and in my field of vision, there was a body exposed to the rocks of the mountain......

Nameless corpses.

"Amitabha."

With a thought in my mouth, I stepped forward.

The body was facing the ground, and in the gaps between the surrounding stone walls, there were still dark red blood stains that had not been washed away by the mountain rain, the shriveled flesh and the clothes on the body were almost weathered, and there was a huge gap on the side of the chest, and some of the ribs were exposed like the branches of a dead tree......

Thinking of my apprentice's request, my gaze shifted to the right hand of the corpse.

The shriveled and decayed palm is still clenched tightly, as if it was grasping the last straw before it died.

However, as soon as I looked at it, the corpse that had been dead for many years, the dry palm, seemed to give birth to a heart, slowly loosening little by little, like a lotus blooming.

When I saw the thing in my hand, I couldn't help but think about it, and I stood where I was, paying attention to my body......

It was a pocket watch.

Beneath the cracked mirror, the second hand can be seen moving in the opposite direction.

……

……

I took the body down the hill back to the monastery's incarnation kiln and cremated it for the chabi, which was reserved for monks.

After arranging everything, I changed into my robe, and when I saw the body lying on the arch of wood, unclothed and unrecognizable, I thought for a moment, and then I took off my robe, and covered it on the surface, covering its face.

Then, I raised my fire, and in a few moments, a fire broke out.

In the firelight of the sky, I saluted with one hand and turned the rosary with the other, closing my eyes and reciting silently:

"When you know reincarnation, love is the foundation. Having all desires helps to promote love, so that life and death can be continued. Desire is born because of love, and life is born because of desire. All beings love their lives according to their desires, and their love desires are the result of loving their lives.

All worlds are always born and destroyed, there is no before and after, the beginning and end of gathering and dispersing, the continuity of thoughts and thoughts, the cycle repeats, and all kinds of trade-offs are all reincarnation.

Not out of reincarnation, but discerning the circle of consciousness; He is aware of it, that is, it flows with each other; If you don't have reincarnation, you're useless. For example, if you move your eyes, you can shake the water, and if you fix your eyes, you can turn fire, the clouds sail the moon, and the boat moves on the shore, and it is the same......"

It's not like an overhaul of the dead, it's more like an enlightenment to the living.

Repeating this passage from the Yuanjue Sutra, every time I recited it, the rosary in my hand would turn one, until one hundred and seven times, I slowly opened my eyes, and the fire in front of me was extinguished, and only a little spark remained.

I stepped forward, dusted off the ashes, and looked closely, only to see a pure white bead-shaped object in it, I picked it up and looked at it, and it was no different from the bodhi seed in my hand......

I can't remember how many times I've seen life and death, but the monks have their own way of counting.

For example, the original number of one hundred and eight prayer beads in my hand has been changed to the seventh round......

I stared at the moon-white Bodhi in my hand, and couldn't help sighing:

"What do you mean by fighting on the snail's horn, sending this body in the light of the stone fire, poor ......"

(End of chapter)