On this day, Sanzang was sitting in the mountains, as if he was hearing the Tao in the morning, but it was better than hearing the Tao in the morning.
Most people in the world are happy when they hear the Tao, and they are rushing towards higher cultivation and realm.
But at the moment, Sanzang showed compassion, because in his eyes, he saw that life between heaven and earth was so small, fragile and helpless.
Life and death, there is not much difference between human beings and mayflies.
From a long time ago, I have wanted to transform sentient beings in the world. This is the realm of Bodhisattvas and Buddhas.
At present, Tripitaka has not yet reached such a height, so he still has to go to the legendary Holy Land to obtain scriptures that can help him and the world escape suffering.
Thinking of this, Sanzang couldn't help but smile bitterly and said: "This autumn pear, a spiritual tea, a seed of life and death, let me see the length of life."
Li Xiuyuan, who put away all his appearances and returned to his original appearance, laughed.
He reached out and added hot tea to their teacups.
He said calmly: "I heard an allusion a long time ago, which goes like this: I watched him build a tall building, watched him entertain guests, and watched his building collapse..."
Sanzang looked sad and blurted out: "Wouldn't that be a waste of great time, a waste of countless money, and a lot of sweat shed in vain?"
Li Xiuyuan smiled lightly: "Aren't the lives and money of the world just wasted?"
"Think about it carefully, in this busy life, who are the people in the world working hard for?"
At this point, Li Xiuyuan thought for a moment and corrected him: "Actually, if he can't build a great Buddha, can't he build a Buddhist hall? Everyone in the world understands that change leads to success, can't a monk?"
That night, the two of them just cooked a pot of dried radish that Li Xiuyuan dried and stir-fried a plate of vegetables they grew themselves.
Even so, Sanzang still felt extremely hot all over, and it felt like he had gained a little more strength just by eating two bowls of rice.
He couldn't help but laugh at the moment and said: "Why do I feel a little stronger every time I come up here?"
Li Xiuyuan chuckled and said: "The mountains and rivers are good, the land is good, the people are good, and you, the monk, are good people, you will naturally have some good luck."
That night, Sanzang did not go down the mountain, but stayed in the mountain and went back to his house early to rest.
Even the daily evening classes were not done.
Just because the spiritual power of that pot of radish is too strong, how can his body bear it now?
Standing alone with a pot of spiritual tea, listening to the whistling autumn wind in the mountains, Li Xiuyuan Xindao waited until he finished handling the apricot branches on the mountain road, and then went down the mountain to the imperial city.
He is practicing cultivation both on the mountain and down the mountain. He is not a monk at the foot of the mountain.
After getting up early and practicing his sword for a while, before Sanzang could recover from his dream, Li Xiuyuan transformed into a woodcutter and went to the mountains to collect dry firewood and branches.
There was fog in the mountains, but it didn't stop him from seeing that construction had started on the lake below.
I don’t know how many craftsmen and laborers came to dig the foundation on the edge of the big lake.
Under the shroud of spiritual consciousness, I was afraid that the monks at the foot of the mountain would dig a five-foot-deep foundation on the edge of the lake.
Think about it, if such a foundation is used to build a Buddhist temple, it can withstand thousands of years of wind and rain.
The people beside the big lake at the foot of the mountain were full of people, and the shouts were loud.
As long as the big families and nobles of the imperial city take action and a lot of money flows to the temple, there will be no shortage of skilled craftsmen and laborers willing to endure hardships.
The morning bells of the temples under the mountain rang.
After eating the fast meal, the monks from various temples began their morning classes. But the craftsmen working by the lake were in full swing, wanting to fill in the foundation quickly before the first snow came.
Cultivating Buddhism is not about building temples.
As long as the foundation is solid, all that is needed is a group of masons to carve and polish the stones step by step, and a group of craftsmen to smear the carved stones with putty and stack them up one by one.
In the words of the elder of the Discipline Academy, let alone a giant Buddha, even if he has to rebuild the entire temple, as long as he makes a grand wish, it can be realized.
On the mountain road, Li Xiuyuan looked at the morning fog that was gradually dispersing, and listened to the sound of chanting from the temple at the foot of the mountain.
My heart couldn't be calm for a long time.
During the Great Zhou Dynasty, why weren't the temples in the mountains all chanting sutras and cultivating Buddhism, but at the end of the day, a few monks still had compassionate hearts?
Whenever I see a piece of fertile land, I want to take it as temple property, and then think about the next year's harvest turning into silver and gold coins in the temple.
It's just that less than a hundred years have passed, and the temples at the foot of the mountain have repeated the situation again.
Which month of the year are you waiting for?
His Majesty, the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty, just like the Emperor Wu, could not bear it anymore and raised the sword in his hand again.
The buildings and temples were demolished overnight and turned into dust.
I walked up and down the mountains and was busy all afternoon.
It was almost noon, and I saw a few clouds floating in the sky to cover the sky, just in time to bring a cool world to the craftsmen at the foot of the mountain.
Monk Sanzang on the mountain cooked a pot of porridge and stir-fried a plate of vegetables.
Li Xiuyuan poured him a glass of spiritual wine, looked at Sanzang and said with a smile, "If you have wine, your heart will be happy. Monk, come and have a drink."
Sanzang laughed and said, "I see that you are practicing in the mountains. You are obviously just an ordinary young woodcutter."
Li Xiuyuan took a breath and said with a smile: "Don't tell me, I will kill you when I pick apricot flowers from this mountain and brew a vat of wine with water from the snow mountain next spring."
"Since you are already in Buddhism, you should know that chopping wood, sweeping the floor, cooking, and drinking tea are not practices, so why do you need to find a reason for yourself to practice?"
He sighed and said: "In my opinion, any practice that has a reason is not practice."
Sanzang had heard people say this before, but he didn't practice it in his heart.
Seeing what Li Xiuyuan said, he thought that since the two first met, the young man in front of him seemed to have never mentioned cultivation in front of him.
I couldn't help but feel confused.
Asked: "When you talk about practice, is it based on the worldly method? Or the martial arts method? Or the Buddhist method?"
"Is there a difference?"
Li Xiuyuan nodded and said: "In my heart, whether it is worldly law or Buddhist law, there is not much difference in the way of practice, let alone martial arts."
Sanzang looked at him and sighed, and said, "Is it possible that you practiced martial arts at a young age? Who is your master? Where is he?"
Li Xiuyuan smiled faintly and replied: "When I get up early, I practice swordsmanship. Although my cultivation is a mess, my master is very good..."
When Sanzang heard this, he couldn't help but sigh quietly.
Looking at the plum trees outside the living room, he said, "I didn't expect that my unintentional words that day, fearing that these transplanted plum trees would not survive, turned rottenness into something magical."
This world, these towering ancient trees, were things Sanzang had never seen before.
Not to mention the lush purple bamboo, which shrouds the entire yard in a mysterious atmosphere.
After a moment of silence, Sanzang said: "In this way, enjoying the snow and plum blossoms in this mountain in winter must be a rare sight in the world."
Li Xiuyuan laughed and said, "I'm looking forward to it. If you want to see it, wait until I come back from the Imperial City."
Sanzang's heart moved slightly and asked: "So, you have been staying in this mountain to practice these days?"
Li Xiuyuan did not answer him, but nodded gently.
There is an old man watching at the foot of the mountain. He only sells wine for half a day every day, and there is a Juier accompanying him, so there is no need for him to worry.
…
Sanzang stayed for a few days and then went down the mountain. The two made an appointment to meet in the imperial city the next day.
And Li Xiuyuan didn't stop these days. He spent some time bringing branches from the mountains and firewood brought back from the mountains and forests back to Yunqi Courtyard.
Just the day before he finished taking care of everything on the mountain and prepared to go down the mountain.
There was a misty autumn rain in the mountains.
Sitting quietly in the living room, Li Xiuyuan's consciousness passed through the pattering autumn rain and landed on the square that had been built by the lake.
The giant Buddha, shrouded in the autumn rain, had unknowingly stood quietly by the lake, about eight feet high.
A pair of huge Buddha feet steps on the lotus Buddha platform in the lakeside square. Even when he looks at it from the mountain, it gives people a solemn and sacred feeling.
At this time, Li Xiuyuan, who was guarding a pot of tea, was worrying about the bamboo sword in his hand.
As he was chopping off leaves in the autumn wind, he realized that even though he had practiced hard for so many years, he still couldn't make the sword he wanted to make.
Is it possible that the current sword strike is the limit?
The current swordsmanship cannot be taught to him by his former master and master, nor can the master from Tianyu City, Mo Daozi.
And the unreliable master, the old Taoist priest, never asked him about his sword practice.
The old Taoist priest only cares about whether his precious disciple can transform into a mortal? When will he become mortal?
After much deliberation, only the teacher Meng Shentong he met in Xuanwu Continent and the female saint on Meishan Mountain could guide him in the practice of swordsmanship.
Not even Master Nalan Ruoyu can do it. Master is good at Qin Dao.
And his practice in Qin Dao seems to be on par with his master.
Is it possible that I still have to be like Tianyu City? Take a trip to Xuanwu Continent? But can you go by yourself?
If I go, can I come back?
Over and over again, Li Xiuyuan felt like he was trapped in the whirlpool he had knitted with his own hands, and could not escape from it for a while.
Is it possible that because of my inability to improve my swordsmanship, I will become obsessed with it?
While he was wandering in confusion, a huge roar of "Rumble! Rumble!!" suddenly sounded from the bottom of the mountain.
Looking around, the giant Buddha on the lotus platform at the foot of the mountain suddenly split into two halves and collapsed onto the squares on both sides.
Accompanied by a huge roar, the extremely solid square splashed with rubble all over the sky.
Shooting towards the big lake in front and towards the mountains behind.
Just before the blink of an eye, an eight-foot-tall giant Buddha disappeared on the lotus platform, and countless petals were smashed along with the lotus carved from white jade.
"Oh no, the Buddha has fallen!"
The young monk who was in a daze by the lake looked at the scene in front of him and ran towards the old monk's temple amidst screams.
Before he could rush into the old monk's Buddhist hall, the abbot master was already standing outside the Buddhist hall.
Looking at the direction of the smoke-filled lake not far away, I couldn't help but murmur to myself: "You can't practice Buddhism at the foot of the mountain...Young man on the mountain, who are you?"
The young monk rushed over and threw himself into the old monk's arms, exclaiming: "Master, my brother on the mountain once said that you can't practice Buddhism down the mountain!"
It turned out that what his brother on the mountain told him was that he could not build a giant Buddha at the foot of the mountain that wanted to be as big as the sky.
It wasn't until the moment the Buddha collapsed that the young monk understood what Li Xiuyuan said to him that day.
He murmured to himself: "The giant Buddha has a spirit. It collapsed at this time, but it was just the time for a group of craftsmen to take a rest..."
Before he finished his emotion, the elder and middle-aged monk from the Discipline Hall rushed over, looked at the young monk and asked: "Where did this evildoer dare to destroy my giant Buddha?"
The young monk looked at him and shook his head: "Uncle, there is no one. I was sitting by the lake, and the big Buddha suddenly fell down."
The old monk showed compassion, looked at the middle-aged monk and asked, "So, junior brother, do you still insist on practicing Buddhism?"
The middle-aged monk looked up at the mountain cabin hidden in the clouds and mist, feeling only anger rising in his heart.
He replied coldly: "Why don't you repair it?"
The old monk shook his head and said quietly: "Junior brother, the sea of suffering is boundless, but when we turn around, we will reach the shore."
The middle-aged monk pointed to the lotus Buddhist altar in the square and replied: "I'm on the shore right there!"
