Li Wei and Liu Hu had followed Ling Ruo for so many days, and this was the first time they had been told to do something by her. There was no reason to disobey them, so they hurriedly said: "The servants will go and do it now. It's just that the funeral ceremony requires the death of the deceased."
Only the name is required, I wonder if the master knows it?"
"Ask them about this." Ling Ruo pointed at Shi Sheng and the two who were in a daze. After Li Wei agreed, she walked up to Shi Sheng and Xuan'er and said in a low voice and sincerely: "This is the only thing I can do for you.
Yes, I hope you will not refuse. Apart from Aunt Shi and Uncle Zheng and Aunt Zheng, if you know anyone else who died in the fire, please tell Li Wei as well."
"Thank you." After a long silence, Xuan'er softly uttered these two words, and this was also the first thank you she said to Ling Ruo. As for Shi Sheng, he would not have any objections.
Hearing Xuan'er's thank you, a smile appeared in Ling Ruo's eyes, "Okay, you guys talk to Li Wei slowly, I'll go for a walk in the back."
After refusing Liu Hu's follow, Ling Ruo walked around the front hall alone and came to the back of Qingliang Temple. Compared with the front, it was much quieter here. There were no people. There was only a gray-robed monk bending down and standing under a tree.
It seems to be picking up something under the big tree with a height of more than ten feet and a thick trunk. The tree looks very old. The tree body is vigorous and knotty, with countless vines twining around it. Even if it hasn't rained for many days, it will be picked up every day.
A leaf still glows with a faint green luster, and there is no trace of dust.
When he got closer, he could see clearly that the monk in gray clothes was indeed picking up something on the ground, but he was picking up leaves falling from the big tree one by one, and he already held a thick pile in his hand.
"Master, why are you picking up leaves?" Ling Ruo asked curiously. From where she stood, she could see the monk's profile. He was very old, and his face was covered with wrinkles, one after another like knives carving them.
The same.
"Does the donor know this tree?" The old monk's voice was also old. He did not look back and kept picking up the fallen leaves with distinct veins.
Ling Ruo looked at the big tree carefully and said uncertainly: "I have never seen this tree before, but it looks a bit like the bodhi tree mentioned in the book."
"Did the donor come from the north?" The old monk had already picked up almost all the fallen leaves, leaving only four or five leaves to pick up.
"How does the master know?" Ling Ruo stared at the old monk curiously. How could he know that he came from the north without even looking at him?
After picking up the last few leaves, the old monk straightened up with difficulty. For him at this age, bending down has become a very difficult task, "Because this bodhi tree is only suitable for growing in the south, and it is rarely grown in the north."
See."
A gust of wind blew by, fluttering the old monk's broad robe, and his bony body wrapped under the robe could be vaguely seen, as if apart from the layer of skin, only the skeleton was left.
"Then why did the master pick up this bodhi leaf?" The original name of the bodhi tree in Sanskrit is "Amarojia", which means enlightenment. According to legend, Sakyamuni attained enlightenment under the bodhi tree. The leaves of the bodhi tree never touch dust.
Its flowers can be used as medicine and its fruits can cure diseases. It has always been regarded as a sacred tree in Buddhism.
"What the poor monk picked up was not the Bodhi leaf, but the reincarnation." Just then, a gust of wind caused the Bodhi tree to drop its leaves again.
"Reincarnation? These are just leaves. How can we talk about reincarnation? The little girl doesn't understand what the master means." Seeing the old monk bending down again, Ling Ruo couldn't bear it and stepped forward to pick up the scattered leaves one by one for him.
The old monk did not refuse her kind gesture, staggered a few steps to the tree, caressed the trunk wrapped with vines and said: "One flower, one world, one leaf, one bodhi. Each bodhi leaf represents a reincarnation, but
The world cannot see it. The poor monk has been waiting here for more than sixty years, hoping that one day he can see reincarnation among the Bodhi leaves."
"Then what kind of reincarnation does the master want to see?" Ling Ruo handed the picked leaves to the old monk's skinny hand.
"Thank you so much, donor." The old monk bowed his head to express his thanks, but the moment he raised his head, he felt as if he was struck by lightning. He stood there in a daze, his dull eyes suddenly lit up and fell firmly on Ling Ruo's face.
Pieces of graceful, green and dust-free Bodhi leaves fell from his palms and returned to the earth. The old monk was unaware of all this and just stared at Ling Ruo, as if she was the only one left in this world.
"You...what's your name?" After a while, a trembling voice came from the old monk's mouth, and he looked very excited.
Ling Ruo didn't understand why the old monk showed such an abnormal expression when he saw her. He lowered his head slightly and said, "The little girl's surname is Ling, and the single name is Ruo."
"Ling Ruo... Ling Ruo... Hahaha!" After the old monk muttered and repeated it several times, he suddenly threw up his head and laughed. His old and decrepit laughter burst out from his throat, revealing a rich and endless joy.
Amid such laughter, turbid tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes, streaking through wrinkles as deep as a knife. It had been more than sixty years since he had been a monk in Qingliang Temple. This was the first time he had laughed like this.
So joyful.
After a long time, he stopped laughing and looked at Ling Ruo with surprisingly gentle eyes. The sunlight passed through the gaps between the branches of the Bodhi tree and fell on the old monk's face. "The reincarnation that the poor monk wanted to see has been seen."
"I don't understand what the master means." Ling Ruo looked at this old monk who was crying and laughing strangely and behaving strangely.
The old monk smiled and did not continue to talk about this issue, but instead asked: "Donor, are you interested in hearing a story told by this poor monk?"
"Master, please speak." Ling Ruo helped him sit down on a stone bench for people to take a rest. The burst of laughter exhausted his strength, making the old monk's already weak body even more unbearable. He could not even stand simply.
All are somewhat difficult.
"I picked up the Bodhi leaves for the master." Ling Ruo was just about to go over when he heard the old monk say: "There is no need to pick up the Bodhi leaves again. The Bodhi leaves for more than sixty years have allowed the poor monk to see reincarnation. From now on, there is no need to pick them up again."
Already."
The old monk never strayed from reincarnation in his words. He picked up leaves because he wanted to see reincarnation, but after a burst of laughter he said he had seen reincarnation. It was really strange. Where is this reincarnation?
"Does the donor know Emperor Shunzhi?" the old monk suddenly asked.
"Emperor Shunzhi was our first emperor after the Qing Dynasty entered the customs. We naturally know that he ascended the throne at the age of six and reigned for eighteen years. He worked hard to govern and promote the Manchu and Han Dynasties. Unfortunately, he died at the age of twenty-four."
It was precisely because of Shunzhi's untimely death that Kangxi ascended the throne at the age of eight.
The old monk didn't know what he thought of, and he was looking at the bodhi tree there in a trance. Ling Ruo waited for a while and asked, "Could the story the master told have something to do with this emperor?"
The old monk smiled, raised his eyes that had become cloudy again and said, "If this poor monk tells you that Emperor Shunzhi is not dead, do you believe it?"
[Author's digression]: The next two chapters are still being revised and will be posted a few minutes later.