Chang'an India

The retreat place of Tanshan is in the Thousand Buddha Cave in the back mountain of Puxian Temple.

It is said that there are a thousand Buddhas, and there are really a thousand Buddhas. The Buddha Cave is a natural grotto, nearly a hundred feet high, with a giant stone Buddha sitting in the west, facing east, with a majestic body and a solemn treasure.Nine hundred and ninety-nine Buddha bodies are carved on the north and south walls, with thousands of Buddhas and thousands of eyes, quietly looking at the people standing in front of the Buddha.

There are one hundred and eight oil lamps in the cave that are kept on day and night, but they are not totally blind to the sun—there is a natural opening on the top of the cave, where there is a bright sun in the daytime and a bright moonlight in the night, like a golden bridge, like a silver chain, illuminating the sky. Brighten the body of the giant Buddha.

The monks of the Puxian Temple did not set up any shelter from the wind and rain at the opening of the cave roof. Hundreds of years have passed, and the eyebrows of the giant Buddha have been washed away by the rain and blurred, but they are blurred and blurred. ——Thousand Buddha Cave Pilgrims are not accepted, and it is inevitable that some distinguished guests who are inconvenient to refuse can get a chance to visit the cave. They often marvel at the magnificence of the giant Buddha, but also regret that it has suffered from the wind and rain.

The Zhike monk who accompanied him just clasped his hands together and recited the Buddha's name: "It is difficult for the world to escape the wind and rain, but my Buddha can safely avoid it."

Tan Shan lifted his robe and sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the ceremony in meditation. Compared with the giant Buddha Dharma body in front of him, he was a tiny figure.

And this small figure sat in front of the Buddha, and asked under the gaze of thousands of Buddhas and eyes-what is my Buddha?

That day, an alien god who had practiced for an unknown number of years once said to an enchanted Buddhist monk: "In your world, there are no gods, immortals, Buddhas, or demons. The so-called practice is all human practice."

And now a devout Buddhist disciple actually asked the same disobedient words in front of this Buddha—is there really a Buddha in this world?

The silent question is only in my heart, there is no sound in the Thousand Buddha Cave, only the oil lamp is burning, the sky light turns from bright to dark, and then from dark to bright, so I don't know how many days and nights.

I don't know day and night, I don't know the cold and heat, I don't know hunger and thirst. The Buddha who has entered the meditation seems to have turned into a stone Buddha statue, so silent that he almost can't breathe.

However, the next moment, the monk suddenly opened his eyes.

He no longer looked up at the Buddha, his eyes were half-opened and half-closed as outlined in ink, and his lips were slightly parted, as if he was asking the Buddha, or asking himself-the last question of the Buddha was: "The person who restrained the square seal... What exactly is it?"

"Say, what is he doing now?"

Marquis Wanjiang also asked a question, but it was purely idle—the morning and evening classes in the temple, there are rules for behavior, but no one will use the rules to control him—Tanshan didn’t let him out of the temple before retreating, so he obediently I restrained myself, got up early every day to cut branches into knives in the bamboo forest, practiced martial arts and boxing, and sat at the door in the sun with the raccoon slave who couldn't wake up in the afternoon.

"I haven't been separated from him that long after all—ten years don't count."

This day is already the tenth day of Tan Shan's entry, there is nothing else in the temple, there are a lot of monks, but there is only one he wants to see.

"He won't miss me when he's in retreat, so I'm the only one who misses him."

While talking, Marquis Wanjiang felt that he had suffered a disadvantage, and he also disliked the raccoon slave sleeping like a pig, and couldn't chat with others, so he went to pull the two tufts of long hairs on its ears and pulled a few to remember. Feeling a little guilty about what this little thing really looked like, he stopped his hand.

"...Why do you think he was so good-looking?"

There was no one around, so Wanjiang Hou picked up a bamboo leaf in the late spring, and picked up the love of spring, and recalled that day when he opened his eyes, he saw a monk coming with a sacred object, with the sun rising behind him, The sky is full of fire clouds, and it really looks like a fairy.

"Yonglan, what are you thinking?"

Hearing the familiar question, Bian Yonglan quickly raised his head and saw the monk stepping out of the bamboo forest. The banished immortal who has entered the human world for many calamities came to him step by step.

"Could it be that you are thinking about the poor monk?"

But when the monk stretched out his hand to him, with a smile in his eyes, and jokingly asked each other, the immortal became a mortal——Wan Jianghou said silently, "I have never seen such a shameless immortal, but he grabbed the monk and stretched him faster than anyone else." Taking advantage of the situation, he stood up, hugged him with a smile and said, "I miss you every day."

Tan Shan patted his head, there was one point of helplessness in the gesture, and the other nine points were all connivance.

The next day, the two set off to return to Beijing. They didn't need to rush on the road anymore, and they went to bed overnight like ordinary people.

The clapper slapped twice, the deeper the dew was, and the moon was in the middle of the sky.

There used to be a city in the world also named "Chang'an", which was the ancient capital of the old dynasty. The capital of this dynasty was Shangjing, and Chang'an City was renamed Fengyuan.

The smoke and clouds of the ancient capital are still there, and the romance has not dissipated. Even an inn is named "Qiongtai".

Qiongtai is four feet high, divided into three floors, built of stone and wood, carved beams and painted buildings.

In the upper room on the third floor, there is a warm water bath. The pool is not big, but it is expensive to build. The walls are made of white jade, and the edge of the pool is gilded. Taiwan luxury.

Such a vulgar place was naturally chosen by the Marquis of the Jiangjiang—the banknotes on his body had long since been mutilated into waste paper by sweat, but who was the owner behind the largest ticket office in Fengyuan City? Know better than him.

"Master..." Bian Yonglan's upper body was lying on the edge of the pool, and his waist was submerged in the pool water. Sweat slipped from the warrior's tight back, dripped over his narrow waist, and disappeared into the water.

"...Does it still hurt?" The monk thought that he was dragged into the pool by life, his robe was still wet, and the hem of his robe was floating in the water, covering the scene under his clothes.

"It doesn't hurt anymore..."

The pain seems to be painful—Wan Jianghou put his hand on the side of the pool, and his fingertips tightly grasped the slightly convex gilt line along the edge of the pool, as if he wanted to pick someone else's gold back home, but he still wanted to be brave. : "I just wanted to say...

... "

He turned his back to the monk and couldn't see him in his eyes, but he had to bear the pain and said to him: "...Master, I can't miss you for a day."

Tan Shan did not speak, only heard the soft sound of water, and the sparkling candles reflected in the waves—there were bronze bird lampstands on the four walls of the room, and the light of the candles reflected in the water and reflected on the clothes—— The faded robes were randomly piled up by the pool, the shadow cast by the candlelight climbed onto the front of the clothes, and slid into the clothes tenderly, as if nostalgic for the lingering temperature on the clothes, tossing and turning between the clothes, sometimes deep and sometimes shallow.

The sound of the water is becoming more and more urgent, lingling gurgling, like a pipa strummed randomly, or plucked strings.

Whispers don't make sentences, love sounds don't make music, the happiness in this world is such a hurry and panic.

"Then see you someday..."

People's voices were heard behind the sound of the water, the monk's voice was as soft as a kite, as if he was still held in the clouds by a ray of spring wind, but his hands were steady, he held the man firmly in his arms, and whispered in his ear, "... What I see is nothing but flowers, and what I think is nothing but moons.”

"..." The ignorant Wan Jianghou blinked his eyes - he didn't understand.

"Bian Chonglan..."

Tan Shan lowered his eyes to see his bewildered face, and smiled in his heart, calling him by first and last name, but in an intimate tone.

He whispered the Zen meaning in this sentence for him: "Every day is a good day."

The city of Fengyuan was bustling and bustling. Marquis Wanjiang dragged the monks around for two more days, and then saw the big shopkeeper of the ticket office come to the door in person, knelt down to pay respects, and respectfully handed him a letter box sealed with wax lacquer.

The letter box is only half the length of a little finger, and it can be seen at a glance that it is specially used for flying pigeons to pass letters.

Bian Yonglan sent them away, Fang and Tan Shan said with a smile: "It seems that the emperor's brother-in-law's money is not so easy to get."

While talking, he opened the letter box and looked at it, handed the short piece of paper to the monk, and said with a smile: "Master, do you know what I am most afraid of the emperor?"

Tan Shan took the paper, glanced at the whole content - there were only four words on the paper: "Return soon. Wen Qing" "I'm most afraid that he won't regard me as the emperor," Wan Jianghou suppressed his smile and stretched out his hand I clicked the signature on the paper, "Every time he doesn't call himself a widow to me, it's usually nothing good."

"I grew up with Jinshang, and I played with him a lot when I was a child," Tan Shan lowered his eyes and said nothing, then listened to Wan Jianghou continue, "It is said that when I was young, I heard some legends and stories told by my mother, So I had to pull him to pretend to be a fairy, let the little eunuch play a monster, and made the palace restless every day. I couldn't remember these things, but he remembered them clearly, and he also reminded me not to forget."

"Nowadays, I am diligent in politics and restrain myself. When I have free time, I will write two crooked poems and draw two ghostly drawn symbols for a little entertainment." He dared to call the emperor's calligraphy "crooked poems and ghostly drawn symbols", which shows that Bian Yonglan is so courageous. To what extent, "Thinking about it, he also knows that his poems and paintings are really not very good, so he doesn't let others appreciate and criticize them, so as not to listen to those empty words. A private seal of 'Mr. Wenqing', keep it as a thought."

"I once asked him, what is the allusion of 'Mr. Wenqing', but he asked me back, 'Don't you remember? When you were young, you even gave the widow a fairy name, called Wenqing Zhenjun.'" "And until Later, whenever he wanted me to do something that I didn't want to do, he would always say, "Yonglan, a courtier, I only believe in you. But this is not my emperor's order, it is Wen Qing Brother wants you to do me a favor.'" Bian Yonglan didn't explain much about those things that "the emperor asked him to do, but he didn't want to do it", just shook his head and smiled: "The emperor's mind is like this, but he also It's not easy, and I don't blame him."

"Chenglan," Tan Shan just lowered his eyes and remained silent, not only listening to Yonglan talking about some old things, but also deducing Xia Chunqiu's whereabouts with his mind, "...Xia Chunqiu is now in Beijing."

"I guess it's the same," Wan Jianghou said with a sneer, without any surprise on his face, "but that old man doesn't understand Wen Qing—Wen Qing is a person who values ​​his country more than anything else." country, Anbang, and peace of the world', he wants to be a prosperous Mingjun who will last for generations, even if the fairyland is real, he may not be willing to go there, because there is nothing he wants in the fairyland."

"........."

"Tan Shan, this Marquis can take the head as a security..."

"No need," the monk glanced at him lightly, imitating his tone and said, "Say something auspicious."

"It's auspicious that we go back to Beijing and live together," Bian Yonglan took the monk's hand, squeezed it tightly and smiled, "No matter how many decades are left in our lives, we have to meet every day, hand in hand... oh, you have no hair , I’m afraid it won’t work if you live together.”

If you eat the marrow and know the taste, the spring night will be short.

Marquis Wan Jiang brought his temper that dared to say anything from under the bed to the couch, and Tan Shan indulged him in whispering softly and begging for pleasure. There was a little bit of coldness.

Born as a human being, attachment is born of desire, and suffering is born of attachment.

Buddha's willingness to endure this suffering is also his practice.

If you want to climb a thousand miles to the mountain, monks step up to climb it, but no lotus grows every step of the way, there is only one bloody road.

A bloody road, but walked very happily and safely.

The author has something to say: The next update should be on Tuesday, if there is no update on Tuesday, it will be Wednesday...