He is a pure Buddhist monk, accompanied by the ancient Buddha Qing Leng, who practices pure Buddhism to save all living beings.
When I saw him, in the bright hall of the high hall, candlelight was flickering and incense was lingering. He was sitting under the bright platform, wearing a monk's robes not stained by dust.
I knelt down and worshiped before the Buddha, and drew a flat lot from the lotus tube in front of the Buddha: It is difficult for a woman to be reunited with a broken mirror, a woman asks her husband to remarry, the past is undisturbed, and the mirror is empty.
The abbot interpreted the signature for me, looked at me with deep meaning and said, "Donor, the past is just a dream. Don't force it when the destiny is not there, don't force it!"
When I walked past him, he looked at me, his eyes calm and still, still the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.
I asked "Why don't you want to see me."
He didn't look at me anymore, lowered his eyes, and his voice was light and calm.
"The donor is joking, why would you or I, the Pingshui Passerby, not want to see you?"
…
At that time, I thought I was just a passerby in the world of mortals, just in a hurry.
On the day I was hunted, my clothes were soaked with blood, and when I was about to faint and fall, he rushed to protect me in his arms. The eyes of Buddha, who had never killed a living being, were red, and warm tears flowed onto my cheeks.
"So you will cry for me too."
"The royal family has taken precedence over you and the Chu family. How can it be difficult for the country to change its owner?" That day, his monk's robes were stained with dust.
Later, in the magnificent hall of the Buddhist temple, he knelt down and worshiped under the lotus platform, with Buddhist beads scattered on the ground next to him. He kowtowed and said in a low voice: "Disciple, if you can't see through it, how can you have both ways in this world?"
He knelt inside all night, and I blew the wind outside the temple all night. Under the bright moonlight, it rained pear blossoms one after another. The falling pear blossoms fell on the cloak I was wearing, and the sound of Sanskrit lingered in my ears. How can I redeem this world...
