Within the mountain temple area, several feet of snow accumulated overnight.
The temple is already short of manpower, and in recent years, many monks from the temple have been invited to do water and land monasteries or rituals. It just so happens that the bandits seem to have died down, and many monks just say goodbye to the abbot, and pack their bags. Holding only a wooden fish bowl, he left lightly. Firstly, it was because he preached and taught Buddhism and taught various things about Buddhism to all sentient beings. Secondly, it was difficult to express clearly. Since the beginning of winter, the incense in Zhongtai Temple has been a bit deserted. , in the original season, there were still many traveling merchants and people who were traveling around to spend half a day to come here to offer three or two sticks of incense to ensure that the incense in the temple would not be extinguished all year round and the ever-burning lamps would not be extinguished for a long time. In the current winter season, not only can we keep the lights on for the whole winter, but even the temples have little money for fasting. Therefore, many monks have no choice but to go out and travel a few times to collect enough food and clothing for the winter. expense.
As a result, the little novice monk Ping Chen suffered a lot. The task of clearing the snow around such a large temple fell on him, who was not old enough to go out to do the rituals. Every morning when he got up, he looked at the cornices of the entire temple. The thick snow piled on top made everyone sigh. If it hadn't been for the constant help from the hall master who came from Buqiu Temple, I'm afraid there wouldn't have been a single moment in the whole day except for chanting two Buddhist scriptures. Leisure time.
The young monk who always wears moon-white monk robes goes out to watch Pingchen sweep the snow every day. In addition to helping him from time to time, he spends most of his time waiting for Pingchen to go to the stone steps to sweep the snow, or sitting on the steps. He stood aside or put his hands in his sleeves and stood up in the snow, looking at the little novice monk whose face was blue and red with cold hands. His expression changed from confusion at the beginning to a lot of understanding now.
Sweeping snow is very careful. No matter it is fine snow dust or dead autumn leaves that have not yet been purified, it must be swept clean and tidy. If the snow stops, the whole Zhongtai Temple courtyard and inside will be like this. Looking at the eaves, there is no sign of winter at all, and it is hard to see even a speck of snow dust.
It was snowing again last night, and it was not until noon that Pingchen finally cleared away the snow in the courtyard. As soon as he stepped out of the temple gate, he realized that the long stone steps outside had also been swept clean and spotless. The monk wearing moon-white robes sat in front of the door. Hearing Pingchen push the door open and go out, he immediately turned his head and smiled.
"The little master is obviously a little tired now, so the poor monk took it upon himself to clean up the snow outside the door for the little master. He did his best and gave the little master some time to rest."
Pingchen felt a little embarrassed. He pretended to be a group of senior brothers and waved to the people in front of him, then clasped his palms together, "Senior brother, there is no need to be so polite. You are already much senior than me. Just call me junior brother. All day long How can I live up to my words as a young master? It only adds to my shame." He immediately sat down on the steps and looked down the mountain road.
The flying snow has stopped, but there are still many scattered snowflakes that have not disappeared, fluttering in the wind.
The birds are extinct and can no longer be seen.
"In a few days, I will probably come here without asking anyone from the temple to explain. I am afraid that the poor monk can't persuade him with his own efforts. If we really start a war, what will the young master do?" The monk said, still looking at Qi Zhenglong. On the steps, and the Gobi beach covered with heavy snow all around, my brows sometimes relaxed and sometimes tightened.
Pingchen also sighed, and sat down next to the monk, with a rather sad face on his square face, "What else can I do? I haven't learned martial arts from the abbot. I have sharpened my muscles and bones in the past few years, but I can't do anything but half a move." I haven’t learned it yet, probably because the abbot doesn’t see my talent, so he hasn’t taught me the method yet.”
When the monk heard this, he couldn't help but turn his head and look at the young novice monk with a look of surprise, "Junior brother, do you really want to fight with others?"
Pingchen curled his lips and was quite dissatisfied, "What else can we do? Although Buddhism does not like to act rashly and get angry, we can't be bullied to the point of being bullied by others. We still have to reason with others, right? Those who can reason can talk about right and wrong using Buddhist teachings. If you can't reason, you can only close your hands together and punch them a few times."
"Yes, it was originally an unreasonable thing. Now that I have made up my mind to come, I'm afraid it's hard to do well." The monk leaned his head against the outer wall and looked at the sky. "I thought at first that I could enter the Buqiu Temple. It should be a good deed that makes Buddhists in the world most comfortable and even proud of themselves. Unexpectedly, it seems that now, even if you don't ask the chief abbot of the temple, you will have the shamelessness to come to the door after hearing about the birth of the Buddha. Pingchen Xiao Master can figure things out, but as the abbot of Wuqiu Temple, how can he not be able to figure it out?"
Pingchen was slightly dissatisfied when he heard this. He glanced at the monk next to him with a pair of clear black and white eyes, and retorted unconvinced, "That's not necessarily the case. The abbot master said that the amount of knowledge you have has nothing to do with your age, and the quality of your mind. It has nothing to do with age, the abbot of Buqiu Temple may be inferior to me in some aspects."
The monk was stunned and was about to open his mouth to argue, but Pingchen frowned and spoke first, "Brother, there is no bamboo broom around here. I don't know what kind of thing was used to sweep the steps in front of the mountain gate, and it was much cleaner than me. "
The young monk did not hide anything, shook his head and said with a smile, "As a cultivator, the job of sweeping the steps is naturally easy." After saying that, he took a deep breath, stood up, and suddenly rushed down the mountain.
Just exhaling in one breath, the dead trees covered with snow dust around him, together with the newly fallen snow on the mountain road, were like encountering the huge strong wind high in the sky, which could destroy the city and uproot the village. In an instant, they disappeared.
The monk sat down again, raised his eyebrows and looked at the young novice monk beside him, "Do you want to learn?"
"I don't want to." Only then did the monk clearly see Pingchen's current expression. He was actually quite angry. He was not even the slightest bit jealous of the monk's magical power. Instead, he simply replied with two words, then stood up and quickly ran to the long steps, surrounding the surroundings, as if he was looking for What.
"Did the little master leave anything behind?" The monk who followed closely looked at the little novice with a strange look on his face, looking curiously at the little novice rummaging around. Even the snow piled up around him due to the strong wind, he pushed it away with his hands, frozen. Get green and red.
But Pingchen, who was always familiar with etiquette, paid no attention to the monk. He didn't take a deep breath until he tossed the thick snow piles around him, breathed into his red and swollen hands, and started talking slowly.
"Two years ago, when I was cleaning the snow around the temple, I picked up two baby birds in the snow. Perhaps because the sky was too cold, I went to rest in the courtyard, and they were already frozen to death by the cold wind. , it took two or three days to recover."
"Cleaning the temple is one's duty, and it is convenient to use magical powers, but if there are any omissions and the frozen creatures are not rescued, wouldn't it be a small gain but a big gain?"
The young novice spoke to the monk sternly, his eyes were clear, and he could not see any so-called compassion. There was no compassion in every word, but the word compassion was mentioned everywhere.
"Senior brother, you have taught a good disciple." The old monk, whose face became increasingly withered, sat cross-legged in the sutra collection building and glanced at the main entrance of the temple. His smile was like the warm sun in winter.
"But, after all, this ancient bell tower temple will be handed over to Pingchen in the future. If you don't have good intentions in your heart, how can you hand over the entire temple to his jurisdiction? How can you do it outside Qiling border with the most chaos? Don’t cultivate yourself first.” Zen Master Fu Kong smiled. In just ten days, this high-level monk has lost a lot of weight. His shoulders that were originally very broad are now thin and tight, and he has really lost some shape. The meaning of Guli is the old monk.
"It's rare to see a clear sky today, how about I go first, junior brother." Bu Hui stood up with difficulty, and the lazy sunlight fell on the floor and fell on the old monk's face, "I have spent a lot of effort on my senior brother, I really shouldn't, but people always In this way, the more you want to keep something, the less you can keep it, and the less you want to do nothing about it, the more you feel that you are powerless to restrain the chicken."
Zen Master Fukong walked up to his junior brother and patted the latter on the shoulder, "Junior brother, I have been very tired these days. Please don't say such depressing words again."
But just when the old monk was about to leave, Bu Hui laughed out loud, "Why bother lying to yourself? Since senior brother has already established himself in such a realm, how can he not see clearly what my junior brother's physical condition is like now, just like the wind?" Even if the remaining candle is well protected, it will burn out sooner or later. It is rare to see a sunny day today, and it will soon snow and sometimes clear. It is the day when my junior brother passes away, no matter what, it is excellent."
Fu Kong turned around and shouted angrily, "You kid, you can't stop saying a few words! What can you do if you take a few more breaths? There are not many old friends left in the world. You are so unfaithful that you really want to leave me, an old monk who is over 60 years old, alone." Stay here?"
"Brother, all mortals will die, why can't I?" The old monk held his body and paced hard, and it took him more than ten breaths to reach the livid-faced Fu Kong, "your inner energy was originally full of merit, and I collected my own blood and Qi inside, and warmed and nourished my junior brother's body and vitality every day, so that I could barely live for a long time. Although I am not good at practicing, I have gained a lot of experience over the years. Such actions will most damage my cultivation and lifespan. . As a senior fellow, I don’t want my younger brother to go ahead. As a junior fellow apprentice, don’t I feel the least bit sad to see my senior brother spending countless amounts of energy every day?”
The old monk held the sleeves of Fu Kong's cassock and left slowly.
"If you really don't want to leave me, junior brother, in the coming spring season, go to the burial ground and have a few words with me. Don't hold everything in your heart, and don't always have unreasonable thoughts. If you don't see Buddhists all over the world, At that time, I entrusted this matter to Pingchen, so that from generation to generation, we can always see the grand scene of the prosperity of Buddhism."
"Amitabha."
The old monk went downstairs by himself, walked back to his residence, put on the cassock that he was reluctant to wear, burned incense and took a bath with difficulty. After spending nearly half a day, he crossed his feet and sat cross-legged with his palms clasped.
When Zen Master Fu Kong came with a group of monks, the old monk was relieved, raised the brush in his hand, and dropped it on the rice paper.
When the oil and lamp ran out, the old monk no longer had the strength to speak, so he put down his pen and ink and left with a smile.
There are only two lines of writing on the rice paper, like candle flames in the wind. It is obvious that the person holding the pen no longer has much strength to hold the pen.
A mixture of sadness and joy.
Every year there is spring, the wind and rain fall on the shoulders, the golden top carries the radiance, and the power wraps around the fingers.
Zen Master Buhui, who always sat upright and behaved well, made a joke with his senior brother when he passed away.
