The snow has been cleared, and I have no sleep at night with my fists clasped in my hands as I bid farewell to the white-haired old woman.
Before leaving, the white-haired old woman took out a wine gourd from home, which was filled with warm shochu. She respectfully held it over and offered it generously, urging her to drink it to keep warm during the sleepless night on the road.
He spent sleepless nights thanking her endlessly, and the wind and snow in the rivers and lakes stained his clothes with frost. Only this simple peasant friendship made his whole body feel like a warm spring breeze.
Following the direction she pointed, we arrived at the main road in a short while.
Although it is said to be a main road, it is actually not very wide. It can accommodate three people walking at a time.
Under the snow cover, there are many sharp and hard stones, which are quite slippery to step on. You have to be careful when going downhill. If you are not careful, you will fall and eat shit.
After walking down for three or four miles, going around several twists and turns, and on some steep roads, I picked up a dead branch and carefully poked at the snow on the road to see if it was strong.
He was afraid that there was a dark hole under the snow, and he would fall down. If the fall was deep, no matter how good his Qinggong was, it would not help.
This journey lasted for an hour, until the sky was nearly darkened, and then at the end of the field of vision, among the layers of snow, I saw a temple that was neither high nor short.
The temple had green bricks and black tiles, and there were many scrawls and scratches on the walls. Layers of moss spread over them, and the moss was stained with snow.
The snow was still falling, making the temple look like an isolated city in the snow.
Ye Wumian walked closer and looked at the crossbar directly above. There were three large gray and gold characters hanging on it, "Guanwang Temple".
The font is thin and thin, mostly using fine pens. The corners of the characters are connected like bamboo leaves blooming, giving it a rich and noble charm.
This kind of handwriting, Ye Wumian happened to recognize it, was the thin gold body created by Zhao Ji, an official from the Song Dynasty who once hunted for the north of the country, was unrestrained and canonized himself as the Taojun Emperor.
These three characters must have been imitated by a master of painting and calligraphy, otherwise how could they be so similar?
However, Grandpa Guan Er is unparalleled in his righteousness and bravery. From the perspective of a sleepless night, his temple inscriptions should be decorated with the characters Yan and Liu, or Ou Gong Qi Jin, standing like a dangerous stone, lonely and cold, so why use Huizong instead?
Perhaps since the Song Dynasty, people have begun to regard Mr. Guan as the God of Wealth. It is very appropriate for the God of Wealth to send wealth and add the words "royal wealth and honor".
Ye Wumian shook his head, and then read the row of small wind-eroded characters next to him, which read: In the 15th year of Jiading in the Song Dynasty, it was established in winter.
"The fifteenth year of Jiading..."
Ye Wumian made calculations in his mind for a while, matching the reign names of all the emperors one by one, and finally figured out that this temple was built exactly three hundred years ago, no less than one year ago.
"Three hundred years have passed, and this temple has not collapsed. How can it be like this?"
Pushing open the door and entering the temple, a dusty air hits your nose, and the statue of Guan Gong comes into view.
The bronze-gold body is about ten feet long, majestic and lifelike, with two diamond eyes glaring at the rats of the Eastern Wu Dynasty; a red face, threatening the wolf soldiers of Cao Wei.
The right hand is stretched forward, as if Zhang Zhaolie's ambition to conquer the world; the left hand is bent back, holding the gold ingot that the people dream of.
"Huh? Jin Yuanbao?"
This is the first time I saw a statue of Guan Gong holding a gold ingot, which was strange. Maybe it’s because he is also the God of Martial Arts?
Ye Wumian looked at the gold ingot vessel for a while. Although he was amazed, he didn't think much about it. He immediately looked away and looked to the left and right.
On the left is guarding the righteous Zhou Cang, holding the Qinglong Yanyue Sword; on the right stands the eldest son Guan Ping, holding the Tiger Talisman General Seal.
Although the three statues have been covered in dust for a long time, they are connected by cobwebs and even insect corpses are scattered here and there. But there is a spirit of loyalty that rushes forward after thousands of years.
Guan Yu, a man who was only worshiped as a marquis during his lifetime, was gradually granted the title of Duke and King after his death because of his loyalty and bravery. Even decades later, the cat slave emperor of the Ming Dynasty was named emperor.
This temple was built during the Jiading period of the Southern Song Dynasty. The latest title of Guan Gong at that time should be the title granted by Emperor Xiaozong of the Southern Song Dynasty in the 14th year of Chunxi, "King Zhuang Miao Yi Yong Wu An Yingji".
Therefore, the inscription on the temple "Guanwang Temple" is indeed in line with the times.
In the imperial dynasty, Emperor Xianzong was granted the title of "King of Chongning Yiyong Wu'an"; and in the fourth year of Zhengde's reign last year, Emperor Zhengde renamed all Guan Gong temples in the Ming Dynasty "Zhongwu Temple".
It seems that this temple was hidden deep in the mountains and forests and was inaccessible. The government had no money to make early changes and was too lazy to change it, so it kept the "Guanwang Temple" named after the Song Dynasty and left it to him.
There was no futon on the ground, and even though there was no sleep at all, he didn't mind the thick dust. He just bent his knees and paid homage to Guan Gong and the other three.
The sky has almost darkened, but the snow is still falling non-stop. If nothing unexpected happens, he should be staying in this temple tonight.
As the old saying goes, "One person will not enter the temple, two people will not look into the well, and three people will not hug the tree."
In ancient times, ruined temples in the wild often became habitats for wild beasts and shelters for powerful people to hide filth and evil. Therefore, our ancestors told us not to enter temples easily to avoid death.
But in this wilderness, the wind and snow are freezing to the bone. If I don't stay in the Guandi Temple, where can I spend the night?
There is no lamp in hand, and there must be no moon in the sky. After one night, even if you are in the realm of reverse enlightenment, you are likely to die violently on this winter night.
In contrast, Guanwang Temple is actually a safe place.
This temple is convenient for sleeping overnight.
In addition to the main hall in the middle, there are two side rooms on the left and right. There is also a kitchen room in the left wing.
There was a rusty iron pot sitting on the fallen stove. Half of the pot of dirty water was left standing, and a thin layer of ice formed on the surface, with ash and other impurities sandwiched in between.
There were several loose bundles of dry firewood piled next to the stove, as well as chipped hatchets, twisted iron tongs, broken bowls, flint stones, and shiny blowpipes.
Obviously, there had been people living in this Guanwang Temple before. It might be the temple guardian monk, or it might be a passer-by who has been sleepless all night.
He inspected several times and made sure that no one was in the main hall, the left and right rooms, and the kitchen, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Take the big iron pot out, pour the dirty water, put a few large pieces of snow in it, use flints to light the firewood in the kitchen, boil the snow until it boils, clean the pot to prevent disease and dirt from remaining, up and down After wiping, take it out and pour it.
This time I took snow cubes to boil formal water for bathing, hot wine, drinking, etc.
"Ding"
The sky was completely dark, so Ye Wumian closed the door to the main hall of the temple and locked it, making sure it couldn't be pushed open easily from the outside before returning to the kitchen.
He was going to wait for the water to heat up, open the back door of the kitchen, go out and take a quick shower, change into men's clothes, and then sleep in the kitchen.
This temple is not small at all. It is even relatively complete in terms of furniture and utensils. There are wooden beds in the left and right wing rooms, and the beds are covered with hay piled up in unknown years and months.
I couldn't sleep at night because I was afraid that there were fleas inside that would survive the winter, so I simply gave up my plan of sleeping in the bed and prepared to spend the night in the kitchen.
The fire crackled and burned, the flames jumped, and dark shadows slowly moved on the kitchen wall.
The winter night in the deserted village was eerily quiet. The sound of sleepless breathing was faint and inaudible, and the face was tightly stretched, illuminated red and white by the firelight.
Sitting alone, he inevitably feels lonely and sad.
He missed Luo Xiangzhu, missed Zhou Xian, and even missed Li Dong a little. Right now, he would feel better if either of them were here.
The poem I recited impromptu while drinking that night at the palace could faintly be heard in my ears.
"Who is like me when the cold wind blows and I sing and drink wildly as the moon sinks to the west?"
