"Pebbles? Carved scriptures?" the middle-aged woman exclaid in surprise.
"Since you’ve co only this year, it’s not strange that you don’t know about that place; even I, who have been here for many years, only knew that it was the wall in front of the Buddha. I’ve just learned that there really are people who use pebbles to carve scriptures, and she was the only one,"
"Miss, do you know who she is? She seems to be about the sa age as you. Have you seen her before..."
"She should be two or three years younger than , but I’ve never asked who she is. I only saw her once in the autumn seven years ago. After that, she ca almost every month, with the most frequent visits happening every two or three days. Then she slowly stopped coming, and it’s probably been about two years since she last ca..." She cast a sidelong glance at the much elongated silhouette, not knowing whether it was familiar or strange.
"I thought she had been liberated, but it seems... it has gotten even worse."
"She carved scriptures... Miss, do you know which scripture?" The middle-aged woman was dignified and gentle, but she seed to enjoy asking the young lady questions routinely. Others might find her talkative and botherso, but this young woman did not. Her figure was graceful and elegant, showing not the slightest impatience; only at this mont, she paused for a while as if pondering sothing... Until she closed the scripture and pointed her fingertip gently at the two characters on the book.
—Heart Sutra.
Without a word, the woman sensed a hint of atmosphere from the young lady and settled down as well, standing beside her, eyes downcast in contemplation, aware that the lady who was normally so reticent to speak had such keen interest in a talkative person. This lady must be sowhat different. On looking up again, she was taken aback.
Even from a significant distance, she could see that five compartnts on the wall were already filled with characters...
Perhaps the wall was made of sand, otherwise how could that young girl have the strength...
The middle-aged woman’s gaze flickered...
In that courtyard, however, there was a quiet tranquility, with only the sound of stone powder being carved away...
The young monk seed to have been absent all along, his head drooped, gently turning the prayer beads in his hands... as quiet and harmonious as a jade carving.
His presence... was also like jade.
Who knows how much ti passed.
Click—pebbles lightly touched the stone wall, making a faint sound, and the monk opened his eyes to see Sui Yi leaning against the wall, facing to the side, her breath weak, with beads of cold sweat finely lining her forehead and slowly sliding down her cheeks. The pebbles gripped between her fingers now had cracks.
After a mont, Sui Yi stood up straight, looking at the cracked pebble in her hand... Her hand loosened, and the shattered stone spilled from her fingertips like sand.
Sui Yi closed her eyes, looking at the nine compartnts in front of her...
"Nine recitations of the Heart Sutra... Fan Yin, have I made progress, or have I regressed?" Her voice sounded hollow, as though lost in thought.
Nine recitations of the Heart Sutra, she had carved the Heart Sutra nine tis, yet still couldn’t release the pent-up frustration in her heart.
Fan Yin looked at Sui Yi, his gaze clear and clean as a mountain spring in Old Lin’s deep forest: "The first ti I saw you, you carved it three tis, driven by madness in your heart but lacking the strength. You stopped when you were worn out. Later, each ti you could do it in one go, without coming back... Now you’ve returned today, unable to suppress it even after nine tis. Is it because Old Mr. Ye has passed away?"
How did he know about the death of Old Mr. Ye?
"People die and reincarnate, it’s the will of heaven; there’s no need to feel bad," Sui Yi turned her face and gazed at the tree, with its shadowy branches. She lowered her eyes: "Buddhism speaks of the eight sufferings of life, which are the suffering of birth, aging, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, eting with those we resent, unfulfilled desires, and the surging passions."
"I have no mory of birth, no fear of aging, sickness, or death, I have not experienced separation from love, nor resentnt, nor have I sought after anything... Yet I always harbor resentnt that’s hard to calm, with an unstoppable killing intent, wishing to go mad with fury... Quite unlike ordinary people. If what the Buddhist Family says is true... it must be because of the troubled karma from my past life, born under an unlucky star in this one."
She rubbed her fingers that still had traces of pebble dust on them, her lips slightly curled, looking at Fan Yin.
"We have known each other for nine years, why have you always been here? Guarding this monastery wall, which has seen so much unquenched resentnt, aren’t you afraid of being dragged into the worldly resentnts?"
Fan Yin realized that Sui Yi had shifted the topic and had already regained control of herself, just as she always had.
"It has been nine years... Initially, I was young and oblivious, holding onto so troubles. Later... It was because I bore more significant sins, reflecting upon them as I faced the wall," he said softly.
Sui Yi was surprised but did not inquire further. Suddenly feeling soone’s presence, she turned her head to see that there was soone on the side gallery of the pagoda, and without looking closely, just a glimpse as they passed by.
"I should leave," she said.
Fan Yin nodded.
Just as Sui Yi was about to step away... she saw soone blocking the gate.
A person dressed in red as dazzling as a crimson dress.
With a willowy waist and cascading black hair, her eyes and brows were delicately outlined, and her starry eyes and thin lips were like ink splashed with crimson blood. The red she wore made her extraordinarily enchanting and seductive, like the scorching sun that burns too hot to touch, igniting fear of her approaching.
Yet there was a longing for her radiant clarity.
Hot as fire.
Compelling enough to make a moth fly into the fla.
Sui Yi only took one glance at the other person, sensing the latter’s eyes seemingly first locking onto Fan Yin, and couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised, thinking to herself that perhaps it was indeed ti she left.
But then...
"You, stop right there!"
She pointed at her.
Fan Yin looked up, his brows slightly furrowed: "Donor Zhong..."
"I haven’t done anything yet, Brother Fan, why the rush~~" the woman was indeed like an enchantress, and just her calling him "Brother Fan" was enough to astonish Sui Yi, let alone the middle-aged woman in the sideways pagoda.
In this sacred place of the Buddhist Family, how could there be such a woman calling a monk in this way...
Several novice monks behind them quickly leaped forward, with one monk shouting angrily: "Zhong Buli, this is the tranquil Clear Pond Temple; how can we tolerate such an affront..."
Zhong Buli, an unusual na. Sui Yi turned her head to Liao Kong, who had a slightly dark expression, seemingly also troubled.
Although they were old acquaintances, such matters...(To be continued. If you like this work, you are welco to co to Qidian (qidian) to vote for recomndation tickets, monthly tickets, and your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please visit m.qidian to continue reading.)
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