Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You

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I settled down and went to work at the Queli Temple every day when I fell asleep, surveyed and drew a plan elevation. He had greeted the janitors in the temple, those in the temple, and those in the library. So in the Qili Temple, the first monastery in the Western Region, pilgrims can often see a girl who is wearing a Qizi costume but is a Han Chinese at first sight, holding a book and drawing on it with a strange pen. He often took out a tape measure and measured it strangely. The monastery, the Archmage of the famous Western Region, Kumoroshi, ordered all the monks in the temple to cooperate so as not to obstruct the woman’s work.

When I measure and draw, I often see Roche. For the first time, I saw how he worked in the temple. He was either talking to the disciples and speaking with the disciples, or he was interviewing other monks from the Western Regions and even the Central Plains. He often went to the masses to preach his Mahayana teachings. His morning class is too early, I can't get up, I haven't seen it. But I saw the evening class from 4 to 5 pm. When the bell struck, all the monks of good quality gathered in the hall. Roche will put on a cassock and lead everyone to salute the Buddha first, then sit down in the first seat and start leading everyone to read the scriptures. Hundreds of monks chanted in Sanskrit in unison, and the humbling sound lingered around the hall for a long time, with a crisp copper bowl sound. "When!" The Sanskrit sound came into the ear, and the soul was rinsed in this neat recitation.

My backpack is back. There is one thing in the bag, and that piece of Adelaide silk is also inside. Thinking of the situation that Roche gave me this birthday gift, the pure appearance of the red neck, I smirked happily and quickly took out the silk scarf to hang on the neck. There are very few things left. It's a sketchbook that I haven't used, and there are few pencils and erasers. And the other pictures I drew are still there. I didn't care too much, it was estimated that she was played as a toy by Vrsati. After ten years, I can retrieve so many things and keep them intact. I really haven’t asked for more.

At night, he still came to my room and rubbed medicinal liquor for me. Seeing me hang that silk scarf, I was stunned for a moment, and then there seemed to be a bright smile in the corner of my mouth. Then, at his request, I became his Han teacher again. The first book explained is the textbook he specified-"Historical Records". I started the "Hundred Forums" serial, talking about ancient myths, and talking about the three yellow and five emperors. I have always been a person who loves to be a teacher. Because my major is history, I sometimes work as a lecturer at Golden Weekly Museum. When my audience hears the taste, I feel very fulfilled.

Although there is only one listener in front of him, even if the listener is of a very high level, he is always attentive and attentive. It seems that I have returned to the stage where I was a teacher a few months ago, but although the people in front of me are unchanged, the time has changed for ten years. Nowadays, I can no longer knock on his bare head, and I can't talk anymore. And my teacher, often looking at the student's profile like a greek sculpture, talked and straightened his eyes, and his voice gradually weakened. Then suddenly wake up, drink water with a red face, cough, find a fan, go to the toilet, and so on.

In the temple, he also watched a Guanyin prayer ceremony hosted by him. Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva comes from a free translation of Sanskrit, which should have been translated into Avalokitesvara. After being transmitted to the Central Plains, it became Avalokitesvara due to misunderstanding. In the Tang Dynasty, because of avoiding Tai Shizong Li Shimin's taboo, he omitted the word "Shi", which is called Guanyin for short. I didn't know that this would be the Quan Yin Fa in the Central Plains in the future, because the Sanskrit name of Guan Yin is too difficult to remember. But when I saw the enshrined Guanyin image, I understood it. At this time, Guanyin is not a familiar female figure of great compassion and compassion, but a mighty man with two beautiful moustache, like the frescoes of Mogao Grottoes and Buddhist statues during the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Before the Tang Dynasty, Guanyin images belonged to the male phase, because Guanyin traveled the world of law, often used all kinds of ingenuity and convenience, and was able to "send the child", and its female image may come from this.

The puja has been doing it for seven days, and it is to pray for the general public, anyone can participate. People reported the names of their deceased relatives to special law enforcement monks and wrote them on a piece of wooden board to be worshipped before the incense case. Roche took everyone to offer flowers and incense, knelt down three times in a row, raised his hand and cast a gesture between his feet, all elegant and dusty. He sat on the high platform, held the brass bell in his hand, shook it, sounded crisply, and the whole hall was silent for a moment.

Eyes circulated, wise eyes swept across everyone, a pity appeared on his face, and the whole person was like a fairy in the mist. He spoke, his voice seemed to be penetrating, and he circulated in the hall for a long time: "Self-interest is wisdom, altruism is sorrow, the bodhisattva uses the body of intelligence to play the role of compassion, seeing all sentient beings in the legal world, taking advantage of their chances, and working hard Freedom, freedom, no obstacles."

The monks knelt down together and chanted the Buddha's number. The people around me also knelt down, and I quickly learned something. Then he read a verse, and the monk in his seat chanted, and the pious singing of the scripture rang through the sky.

On this day, Queli Temple gave free food to all good men and women, and Rosh personally presented and prayed. The team was outside the temple gate, and I moved forward a little bit in the team, looking forward to it. He remembered the Buddha's ceremonial salute, delivered the wrapped portion of the food to people, and held a delicate long-handled incense stick gently on the head of the praying person. Everyone who has received food and received blessings is happy. After waiting for two hours, it was my turn and I was really hungry. He saw me for a moment, stunned for a moment, a slight smile came out of his eyes, and whispered something to the disciples around him. He handed the food to me, I smiled and bowed ten times, bowed my head to pray. He touched an object lightly on his head, and was surrounded by sandalwood. Looking up at him, his confident and calm temperament was really extraordinary, and he jumped a few more times. I was about to leave, and suddenly saw the disciple who had just whispered him handed him a bunch of grapes. He took it with a smile and put it into my hands. Grapes are the most common fruit in Guizi and they are not valuable. Peeking at someone else, it seems that he did not express any dissatisfaction with this extra gift, and quickly bowed his head and hurried away.

I didn't want to eat the extra bunch of grapes. I pulled a piece of paper in the sketchbook and put it in the bag. That night he was a little tired, but he was energetic, and his open eyebrows were confident and calm. Thinking that he might not have eaten all day, it took four full hours to distribute those foods. Somewhat distressed, he quickly took out the grapes he delivered from the bag and wondered how to persuade him to eat something.

He kept looking at my movements and saw me peeling the paper to reveal the grapes and handing them in front of him, a little dazed. Without waiting for me to speak, he took it, took one and put it in his mouth, and smiled at me: "Very sweet."

I was taken aback, and picked one to eat. It was really sweet, sweeter than any grape I have ever eaten...

We just sat and ate the grapes. Suddenly thinking of the famous grape-eating without spitting grape skins, we almost laughed and taught him. His Chinese is still accented by Guizi, so I can't get around, and I fell to the ground with a smile. In such laughter, I suddenly miss the warmth of the moment, I hope that time will always stay at this moment...

He was very tired every day in the Fa, but still insisted on coming to me. I stopped the lecture for a while, and when I saw him coming, I tried every means to give him a good rest. Sometimes I really want to give him a massage, but I only dare to imagine it in my heart.

On the last night, the temple was brightly lit, and everyone sent a small oil lamp. Roche knocked in front of the Buddha, lit the oil lamp in his hand, the most virtuous monk in front of the seat walked to Rosh, lit his own in his hand, and then the monks lit up from the previous one according to the grade, and soon, the whole The hall was full of beating stars and fire. I also lighted the fuel lamp, holding this little lamp, the whole heart was illuminated. In such a sacred atmosphere, Roche is like a god, with precious light flowing and superb wisdom, leading thousands of people to pray, and throwing small pieces of wooden signs with the names of the dead on the table into the fire. The muttered Scripture circled and circulated, pouring into the ear endlessly. This situation and this scene moved me to tears.

Long after the meeting, I still remember the solemn atmosphere from time to time. Once again appreciate the spiritual power of religion. No wonder religion has existed since the birth of man, and I believe it will continue until the death of mankind. Everyone will have spiritual demands, especially when suffering. The Buddhism will spread in the Central Plains during the Southern and Northern Dynasties and take root and deeper, also because it was the most painful historical period.

When I told Roche about these thoughts, he smiled and agreed. For the specific Buddhist scriptures, I can’t recite most of them, but just talk to him about religion from a historical and philosophical perspective. Sometimes he couldn't understand what I said, but after a moment of thinking, he could interpret it in his own language. One night's time often passed by so quickly. When he realized that he should go, he could not help hating Einstein's explanation of the theory of relativity.

I continued to survey and paint in the temple. Sometimes when I sit outside and measure outside the hall, he will walk in and talk to the disciples in the courtyard. When I was sitting in the temple copying the mural, he would bring a group of monks in to teach the Fa, and signaled me to continue painting, regardless of them. When I picked up my feet next to the stupa to measure the height, a tall, thin figure would take my tape measure and cover the sky above my head. When I was thirsty, a little Sha Mi would bring a glass of water to me in time, and then a familiar maroon monk's clothes flickered outside the door...

I really can't go on like this. I have now arrived and see him, my heart beat faster, if I can't see him, if I lose, I lose. Pillows on the bed he used to cover, and covers the covers he used to cover, I can stumble and like for a while. In Queli Temple, I was still painting, but my eyes would follow him involuntarily, until he gave me a light smile. I certainly know what these reactions mean. I look at his face more, listen to his voice more, I will sink, I will not want to leave. However, Ai Qing, Ai Qing, you can be emotional with anyone, but not with him alone. He is not your cup of tea, he and you are separated by 1,650 years. The most important thing is that he is a monk until his death, and you will soon return to the 21st century.

Therefore, after two months of painting, the inspection work of the Queli Temple has to be completed. I hesitated again and again, but decided to tell him my plans after the evening class.

That day he explained to him the 61st volume of "Shi Ji"-"Bi Yi Biography". Uncle Qi Yi, who did not eat Zhou Su, picked Wei while eating, starved to death in Shouyang Mountain. In Tai Shigong's writings, he is extremely loyal to this kind of cleansing. Throughout the "Bi Yi Biography", talking about Uncle Qi is only a small space, and most of it is Tai Shigong's own emotion.

"But, is such loyalty like Uncle Qi Yi really worth emulating? At that time, the world had returned to Zhou, they did not eat Zhou Su, but the wild fruits picked were also Zhou's wild fruits, and Shouyang Mountain where he lived was also in Zhou's territory. In the end, even if starved to death, it was the people of Zhou Dynasty who buried them."

I sighed: "Everyone will encounter hardships and distress. Everyone has to make a choice when the difficulties come. Whether to endure humiliation or steal a life or like Bo Yiqi Qi would rather starve to death. It is me, I will choose to live. Because of life, talent Completing the aspirations in my heart. And the evaluation of future generations, anyway, I have made it ancient, whatever?

I stared at him staring blankly, thinking about the turning point of his destiny after eleven years. He should have suffered a lot in his heart, right? "So, Roche, if you encounter distress in the future, you must think about your grand ambitions and live strong." Eleven years later, I can't appear again, and I can only give him a little bit like this Prompt.

"Husbands "poems" and "books" are vague, want to fulfill their ambitions and thoughts. Xixibo is in the imperial court, playing "Zhouyi"; Confucius Er Chencai, writing "Spring and Autumn"; Qu Yuan's exile, writing "Li Sao"; left Qiu was blind, and he had "Mandarin"; Sun Zi's feet, and on the art of war; not Wei Qianshu, the legendary "Lv Lan"; Han Fei prisoner Qin, "difficult to say", "solitary anger"; 300 poems, It’s probably what Xiansheng did.” He stared at me and answered me in Taishi Gong’s words.

We looked at each other, and the surroundings fell silent, and an unknown air flowed among us. His face gradually blushed, and suddenly he turned his head slightly, moving his eyes away. The expression on his face was a little embarrassing, a little annoyed, a little... regretful.

Rosh, you don’t need me to teach at all. The section you recite is the last chapter of "Historical Records" in "Taishong's Readme". I believe you can do it even if you are asked to recite all the "Historical Records". Why do you want me to teach? My heartbeat is about to rush out of my chest, me, I can speculate that you just want to come to see me every day, just pretend not to have read "Shi Ji"? But...but...

Close your eyes and force yourself to press down on the violently beating heart. I said slowly with the calm tone that I thought: "Tomorrow I won’t go to Queli Temple. I’ve finished painting. You know where to find it. Chang'an Caravan? If I don't know, I can just go and find it myself."

He was silent for a moment, and asked: "Now the Central Plains chaos fighters and the Han people and the Hu people are killing each other. Why are you a lone woman, why do you insist on going to that dangerous place? Although Guizi is small, he always settles down, why not..."

"Rosh..." I interrupted him lightly, "You have a big wish in your heart to cross all living beings. To achieve this wish, would you be willing to go to the dangerous Chinese land?"

"Naturally willing."

"I am the same." I stared at the "Historical Records" written by Tai Shigong's life, "I also have ideals. Remember I told you before, my ambition is to write a history book, can experience history, restore Historical authenticity."

Wuhuranhua is naturally the most tragic period in the history of the Han people. Later Zhao Shihu's father and son enjoyed killing Han people, and later Zhao killed hundreds of thousands of Han people in just twenty years. Ran Minfei Zhao restored the Han surname and issued the "Hu Huling", as long as he looked like the Hu people all killed, within a year, more than 200,000 Hu people were killed. In the northern part of China, in the past two decades, the bones are everywhere, tragic.

If this is the time, even if I were given a nuclear weapon, I wouldn't have the courage to go. Fortunately, this was what happened when Rosh was born. Now in the Central Plains, the former Qin has basically unified the north except Liangzhou and Liaodong, and has resumed production. Fu Jian is the tragedy hero of the Sixteen Kingdoms period that I admire most. His personal charm makes me extremely admired. Taking advantage of the fact that I have been looking forward to seeing his former Qin now, otherwise the battle of the Fei Shui will be his Waterloo ten years later, and the North has once again fallen into disarray.

I looked at him, hoping my eyes were firm. He looked at me and turned his head away, staring fixedly at the flame heart of the oil lamp beating slightly, with a toneless voice: "I will arrange it for you."

I continued to lecture and he continued to listen to the lecture. Just because I don’t know his thoughts. Pretend silly, continue to pretend...

At the end he left as usual, calmly, and I was booing, and the door was pushed open again.

"Remember the Kizil Thousand Buddha Caves?"

He said lightly: "From what you said to dig a cave temple there, there have been a dozen caves in ten years."

"I will go there to salute Buddha in seven days." He stared at me, his eyes bright, "Do you want to go?"

I, I, I want to go. He really knows what attracts me. If I go, I can identify the exact year and sequence of the excavation of the grotto, as well as copy the beautiful frescoes that were destroyed in later generations. These are of great historical value. I really can't stop this temptation. Is it okay to postpone the departure for a few days? Is my time enough?

Seeing me nod, he smiled: "Seven days later, we set off."