Clear Scales Illuminate the Zen Heart

On a rainy night, after her husband was killed, a pregnant woman in Liujia staggered and knocked on the door of a ruined temple in the mountains. Inside the door, there was only an old monk who was as decayed as an ancient tree. She was exhausted and died giving birth, leaving the baby in her care before her death. The old monk silently took over this hot life and named him "Whisper". From then on, an old man and a young man guarded the crumbling temple. Wang Yan grew up with his master's silent "hmm". He saved an injured green snake and called it "Aqing". He thought this was the whole world: porridge, meditation, firewood in the back mountain, and the little green shadows that occasionally came in and then left quietly. Until Master passed away silently in the autumn rain, his body did not decay. The wealthy businessmen passing by felt like they had found a treasure, and regarded this ruined temple as a "flesh-body Buddha" dojo that turned stone into gold. The hustle and bustle swallowed up the last silence in an instant. Kneeling in front of the "golden body" that was suddenly worshiped by thousands of people, I felt completely ridiculous for making such nonsense. The person they worship is not the master who can eat cold porridge or cough to remind him. Amid the scent of incense, he took off the new monk's robes given to him by others, replaced them with old and patched clothes, picked up the old Zen staff polished by his master, and put on a broken bamboo hat. Amid the clamor of people bowing their heads to pray for blessings, the young man walked against the flow of people and walked alone to the grass-covered path behind the temple. Outside the mountain gate, there is a world boiling for miracles; inside the mountain gate, everything about an old monk and a little snake that he just closed with his own hands has passed. ——In this world, after all, no one can protect the peace of others.