Although Tianzhu Mountain is not very high, it stands alone and steep, like a pillar breaking out of the ground and soaring into the sky. It is a majestic and formidable scene. In addition, Kuchan Temple, one of the three major Buddhist holy places, is located in it, which makes it even more famous all over the world and has been worshiped by the world for hundreds of years.
However, at this time, the ice and snow have not yet melted, the spring is cold and the north wind is blowing, so it is not a wise move to go up the mountain at this time. Therefore, there are few people above the mountain gate, and a few scattered rows of footprints only extend to the viewing platform halfway up the mountain. I think they are the footprints left by a few elegant literati who enjoyed the scenery here.
There are still more than ten miles between the viewing platform and the temple gate, but no one is seen in the middle, not even a pair of footprints, which shows that no one has passed there today.
Strangely, in the guest pavilion two miles outside the temple, there were actually two men, old and young, dressed in ordinary clothes, busy in front and back. Looking at the scene, it looked like someone was moving something out from the pavilion. After a while, six baskets and hats were neatly arranged on the snow.
This wasn't enough, the young man brought a big pot, more than ten bricks and stones and two bundles of firewood from the welcoming Panasonic not far away. The old man nodded with satisfaction, and then set up a simple stove by himself.
Perhaps the straw was damp at night, so the father and son worked hard for a long time before lighting the fire. For a moment, white smoke curled up, adding a touch of life to the lonely mountain.
"Yier, go get some snow with a hat lid, be careful, don't get it covered with sand and gravel!" The old man looked at the stove where the fire was getting stronger, slowly stabilized the iron pot, and turned to the young man beside him. The man said.
The young man replied, "I understand, kid." He turned around, picked up the nearest basket, and walked away quickly. In just a few breaths, he picked up a basket full of snow, and poured the iron into it without waiting for the old man's instructions. In the pot.
The snow melts when exposed to heat, and water vapor gradually rises.
The two of them were stirring the snow water in the pot with shovels, when a young gray-robed monk walked over slowly.
"Amitabha!" The monk bowed to the father and son one after another, and then said to the old man, "Donor Feng, you are interested."
Generally speaking, larger Buddhist temples will have monks who are responsible for the daily reception of the temple. Although Kuchan Temple belongs to the Zen sect, it is famous for its martial arts. It is one of the orthodox sects with leaders in the world. It has always had many visitors. The gray-robed monk in front of me is the famous guest monk here.
"Master Huiming!" When the old man saw the gray-clothed monk approaching, he put down the shovel in his hand and bowed in return.
Judging from the exchanges between the two, it was obvious that today was not their first meeting.
It turned out that the father and son setting up the firewood stove were Feng Cong and Feng Yi, two "leaf-folders" from a Luozhou martial arts family.
In the previous martial arts alliance, it was impossible for Feng Cong to take the position of leader due to his martial arts attainments. However, he still traveled thousands of miles to Ruozhou, and even did not hesitate to fight "Feng Cong" in front of tens of thousands of people on the martial arts school grounds. The "leaf-folding hand" practiced it from beginning to end, and all he wanted was an "innocent" reputation. Fortunately, Master Faxiang, the abbot of Kuchan Temple, spoke uprightly and notarized the Feng family in front of the world.
From then on, people in the world would no longer say that "Feng's Leaf-folding Hand" originated from the "Great Compassionate Hand" of Kuchan Temple, and no one in the martial arts world would dare to point out the origin of martial arts behind the back of the Feng family.
The stigma was washed away and the kindness was profound. Feng Cong promised on the spot that he would personally serve glutinous rice balls to Tianzhu Mountain during the Lantern Festival after the new year to repay his kindness.
A gentleman's promise is worth a thousand pieces of gold.
On the second day of the Lunar New Year, Feng and his son packed their luggage and left Luozhou. After rushing through the frost and snow all the way, we finally arrived at the foot of Tianzhu Mountain two days early. After resting for half a night, we hurriedly went to buy all the things needed to worship the temple.
Good glutinous rice flour, aged filling paste, mountain spring water from the old well... I worked hard all day to prepare a load of glutinous rice balls.
His eyelids could not be closed for more than two hours before Feng Cong woke up his son and went up the mountain at night.
When the old man lifts the fire, the young man carries the burden; when the young man holds the fire, the old man carries the burden.
The hard work of climbing the ladder is hard to describe in words.
The resting place of the guest monk in Kuchan Temple is on a small cliff more than a hundred feet away from the welcoming pavilion. The location is both convex and high, making it perfect for checking what's going on on the way up the mountain. Monk Huiming watched a little light of fire approaching the temple gate. He didn't dare to relax, so he lit a torch and went down to investigate. The three met on the way, and Feng Cong explained his purpose.
Since the other party had such good intentions and was a well-known figure in the world, Huiming grabbed the pick and went up the mountain without saying a word. On the way, we took turns "grabbing" the load several times, and soon we arrived at the guest pavilion.
Originally, Huiming wanted to arrange for the father and son to live in the temple, but Feng Cong insisted on refusing.
"Since my father and son are paying homage to the mountain to repay their kindness, we must keep this sincerity. So what if we rest in the guest pavilion tonight? Tomorrow morning, when we have cooked glutinous rice balls, we will happily knock on the door and enter the temple."
Huiming had no choice but to follow them.
Before dawn, he went to ask his master for instructions on how to deal with the problem. The old monk just smiled and replied: "The donor is sincere, so there is no need to disturb him."
Feng Yi smiled at Huiming, asked for breakfast and hurried away, but the pot was boiling, and it was a good time to make glutinous rice balls.
"Master, please lend me some pottery jars," Feng Cong said.
Before going up the mountain, the father and son discussed that when traveling at night, someone needs to hold a lamp, so they can only carry one load at a time; the weight of the two bamboo baskets can only be 200 kilograms at most, and the glutinous rice balls and the big pot cannot hold the bowls. chopsticks.
Fortunately, Feng's heart lies in glutinous rice balls, and there are enough bowls and chopsticks in Kuchan Temple, so it doesn't matter whether you take them with you or not.
"It's easy to say! It's easy to say!" Hui Ming knew what he meant, bowed and turned around and ran towards the temple gate.
Less than half a quarter of an hour later, six gray-robed monks each came holding a two-foot-wide pottery vat. It can be seen that it is a vessel used for cooking in the temple.
After some pleasantries, Feng Cong poured a pot of glutinous rice balls into a pottery jar and filled it 80% full.
Feng Yi didn't dare to stop for a moment, so he quickly brought another load of snow and covered the pot firmly.
After working back and forth for more than half an hour, we finally filled all six pottery jars, and there were still more than ten kilograms of glutinous rice balls left in the baskets. At this moment, the father and son were both tired and hungry, and were preparing to use melted snow water to cook a pot of hot glutinous rice balls for themselves, when they saw a young man in white walking towards them quickly.
"Old man, what are you cooking for?" The young man asked Feng Cong, while looking into the basket, he said to himself, "Oh, it's glutinous rice balls! Yes, today is the Lantern Festival."
Seeing that he looked familiar, Feng Cong didn't take it seriously and said politely: "Little brother, do you want to sit down and eat something together?"
"Okay!" The young man in white raised his eyebrows and said with a smile. He walked towards a small bush not far away and broke off three twigs. "Hey, I'll use this to hold glutinous rice balls in a while." After saying that, he broke each of the three twigs into two pieces. , made into three pairs of ready-to-use chopsticks.
The Feng family father and son were in a dilemma, and obviously had no interest in talking. The young man didn't care, so he found a stone and put it in front of the pot to make a stool, and sat down. He stared straight at the tumbling glutinous rice balls in the pot. He held the wooden chopsticks in his right hand as if he was ready to go, but the fingers of his left hand were tapping his knees lightly, which made him look like an old man listening to a play.
"Old man, it's time to eat." After half a cup of tea, the young man stretched out his chopsticks and plucked the pot a few times, then tilted his neck and said to Feng Cong.
After working hard for several days without rest, Feng Cong was really tired, and just now he fell asleep. Hearing Feng Yi whispering to him beside him, he slowly stood up. Seeing the young man in white looking at him bitterly, he felt quite fond of it and said with a smile: "Little brother, you're welcome, just eat."
This is what I was waiting for.
The young man in white got the host's approval. Now he no longer felt shy. He stretched out his chopsticks and reached into the pot. When he returned the chopsticks, he caught four dumplings.
"It turns out he is also a practicing master." The father and son looked at each other and understood each other's thoughts.
On the top of the mountain in the cold weather, eating hot food is a great thing. The three of them opened their stomachs and ate up a pot of glutinous rice balls.
"Well, it's so delicious! I've never tasted such delicious glutinous rice balls!" The young man in white murmured with emotion as he leaned on the stone, stroking his round belly.
When Feng Cong and his son heard others praising the delicious food they cooked, they naturally felt quite happy.
"I..." The boy in white was about to speak, but was interrupted by Hui Ming when he reached his mouth. After the rice dumplings in Duanhui Temple had been shared, the Dharma Minister asked Monk Huiming to invite the two of them into the temple.
After sorting out the pots and pans on the stove, the three of them followed Huiming to the temple.
The monk naturally noticed the young man in white behind him. He just thought that since he was traveling with the Feng family and his son, they must be together, so he didn't ask any more questions.
Feng Cong and Feng Yi both thought that this young man was dressed in fine clothes and was probably a pilgrim who had come down from the mountain early. They shouldn't say anything more.
Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, the young man in white was also pleased with himself. He quietly followed the three people and entered the temple in front of a group of warrior monks.
The Feng family was not considered a first-rate sect in the martial arts world, and there was no reason for the abbot of Kuchan Temple to come out of the palace to greet them. Huiming directly led the three of them to the Temple of the Heavenly King where guests were entertained.
Fa Xiang had already led three old monks, Fa Zheng, Fa Tong and Fa Yan, to wait there. When they saw the crowd arriving, they joined their hands and held the ceremony.
After Feng Cong returned the salute to the four of them, he turned to Feng Yi and said, "Yier, come and meet the four masters!"
Feng Yi followed his instructions and saluted the four of them one by one, then bowed and returned to his original position.
"Donor Feng, do you think this is your young master? He is very smart!" Fazheng looked at the young man in white and said with a smile.
At this moment, Feng Cong noticed something strange. He didn't know that the strange boy had followed him all the way. When he opened his mouth to ask, he saw the boy took two steps forward, raised his eyebrows and said with a smile: "Old monk, my surname is not Feng. I am here today to challenge your abbot."
