During the Labor Day holiday, the temple at the foot of the mountain is full of tourists, and in a hidden meditation room behind the patriarch's hall, a monk in his forties is holding a brush and meditating. On the wall hang a few painted plum blossoms, this plum quality atmosphere is lonely and cold, its momentum is decisive and majestic, the lines are agile and calm, the color is elegant but full of changes, like a few plum trees growing in the wall, and at the same time blooming with endless plum blossoms.

After contemplation, the monk finally put pen to paper. He holds the pen in a strange way because he has no index finger, and he burns the index finger of his left and right hands in front of the Buddha, and because of his piety, people call him the eight-fingered Buddha. In the inner room of this meditation room, there is a bed on which lies a man who has been unconscious for three days - this person is Chengliu. Nariyu is miraculously alive, and what is even more amazing is that many of his fatal wounds have healed, as if nothing had happened to him three days ago.

"It's time to wake up." The eight-fingered Buddha kissed and spoke. So he turned on the light in the inner room and chanted again, "Amitabha! "The strong light hits Chengliu's face, just like the May sun shines on his face, and no matter how strong the sleepiness is, it will be woken up by the brightness that penetrates the eyelids. Cheng Liu woke up, looking at everything unfamiliar in front of him, his face full of doubts. He was wearing a novice robe, and even his shoes had been replaced by a pair of plain cloth shoes, and his original bloodstained clothes were gone.

Outside the window, there was the sound of monks chanting, and there was a picture of "Thousand Eyes and Thousand Hands Guanyin" hanging on the wall. Why is there an electric light in the western sky? He thought again, it's okay if he leaves, anyway, no one in that world cares about him, no one cares, it's the same in the West or in the world. He didn't have to go to school anymore, thinking of going to school, he thought of Liu Nanlai again, remembered the warmth of that afternoon in the car, and it would never be possible in the future, which was perhaps the most regrettable thing he felt. He finally remembered the beating of him by the old medicine gang, and the confession of the killer to himself, for some reason, when he thought of them, he seemed to have no hatred in his heart. Could it be that when you go to the western heavens, you have become a Buddha, and the hatred of the world will be completely forgotten. But thinking about it, I am still unwilling, and even a little complaining, complaining why I want to give myself a beam of light at the last moment of my life? This light is ambiguous in love and affection.

He stood up and found that his body was not floating, and he felt heavy when he stepped on the ground. His nose can also smell incense, and what is even more "bizarre" is that he can still feel the intense hunger in his abdomen. He walked out of the inner room and saw the eight-fingered Buddha praying with his hands folded over a bowl of fast, and he didn't make a sound, but his eyes could no longer take care of the night's fast.

The eight-fingered Buddha opened his eyes, waved at Cheng Liu, and said, "Cheng donor, are you hungry?" ”

Chengliu nodded, and had some doubts about whether he was in Xitian. Because the accent of the senior monk in front of him is an authentic Hunan Hengyang accent. The world, no, is there such a coincidence in heaven? You can meet fellow villagers in the west. But thinking that he was fatally attacked by Zeng Xin that day, and now he has no wounds on his body, he is sure that it is completely impossible for him to still be in the world.

The eight-fingered Buddha made a gesture of please, and Chengliu picked up the meal and began to gobble it up. It turns out that the heavenly meal is not made of candles and incense, but it is as sweet as the food made by my grandmother. As he chewed his food, he asked, "Master, am I dead?" "All speculation, it is better to ask for the truth.

The Eight-Fingered Buddha smiled and said, "Amitabha, life and death are all empty images, and letting go is the truth." ”

Cheng Liu looked puzzled and said, "It's too profound, I don't understand." ”

The eight-fingered Buddha said: "Food is not spoken." After you have eaten, please go to a place with the poor monk, and you will understand. ”

Chengliu scraped the bowl clean, and he was still unsatisfied, but he was embarrassed to ask for a bowl, so he got up and said to the eight-fingered Buddha: "Master, please!" ”

The eight-fingered Buddha returned the salute, then pushed open the door and walked out first. The May morning sun was already a little hot. The believers who braved the heat rubbed shoulders in the temple. There are people here who are pious, for the sake of faith; Some people are pious, for the future. It wasn't until he saw the people in this world, the wishes in the world, that he realized that he was still in the world. He was a little happy to be alive, but even more puzzled by it.

The eight-fingered Buddha walked out of the mountain gate of the Zhou Dojo like the temple of Zhusheng, and walked straight to the Xiling mountain pass, Chengliu followed, along the way Chengliu wanted to ask something, but saw that the Buddha did not speak, so the vulgar did not speak. The smoke and fire still filled the small town of Nanyue that he was familiar with, and he felt that he had a second life, and he wanted to cherish it, especially when he passed the intersection of his school, and he decided to abandon all his previous fetters and live unscrupulously.

The destination is the Huang Ting Temple, where the Eight-Fingered Buddha walks familiarly into the ancient Taoist temple, through the side corridor, to a tea room dedicated to receiving guests. The eight-fingered Buddha bowed to the female Taoist boy and said, "Please inform the little Taoist chief to the Venerable Master Wei Daochang, and ask to see the dry plum monk of the Zhusheng Temple." Xiao Daotong came to report a moment after he went, and said, "The Dao Master is already waiting in the Cloud Pavilion, please ask the master to move." ”

The eight-fingered Buddha and Chengliu followed the little Taoist boy along the side corridor to the end, and then turned a rockery, climbed a narrow stone staircase, and came to the pavilion on the top of a stone cliff. Before I even entered, I felt a sense of drift. I saw the word "Cloud Pavilion" written horizontally under the eaves of the attic, and a pair of seal book couplets were written under the book, and the upper couplet was: "The clouds are full of dew." The next link is: "The dry ink in the pavilion writes nature." "His pen is strong and strong, and he is three points into the wood. There is a screen inside the door, and the four screens of "Plum", "Orchid", "Bamboo" and "Chrysanthemum" are inlaid in the folds. The elegant incense accompanied by the fragrance of tea came from behind the screen, and the light also came from the windows in the pavilion, and the shadow of the slender fell on the elegant painting screen.

"Come in!" A woman's voice came from inside. The eight-fingered Buddha thanked him and took Chengliu around the screen and entered. After entering, Cheng Liu found that the only person sitting in front of the tea table was a young female Taoist who was about twenty-seven or eighteen years old.

"Yuanjun, don't come to harm? The little monk is polite. "The eight-fingered Buddha has not yet sat down, so he bows down here. Although this person is the head of the Taoist here, he is much younger than the Eight-Fingered Buddha, and the status of the Eight-Fingered Buddha in Buddhism is not too low, why is he so respectful to this young female Taoist leader, and even calls himself a little monk. And this female Taoist saw the elderly eight-fingered Buddha visiting, but did not go downstairs to greet him, Cheng stayed in the eight-fingered Buddha at the same time that he felt that the eight-fingered Buddha was too respectful, but also felt that the female Taoist chief was rude, so after he bowed to the eight-fingered Buddha, he only made a simple gesture, but did not open his mouth to greet. At the same time, he also wondered in his heart, where is this person sacred? What should I call myself......