Burning Temples

He was born a Buddha, and I was born a sinner. I want him to save all sentient beings cleanly, I want him to stumble and save me alone. --- Xie Yuan, the ninth prince of Dayin, was born with a "Buddha bone glazed body". He entered the Huguo Temple at the age of seven and became a "little Bodhisattva" who received the incense of all people. Compassion is his perfect cassock, sobriety his eternal shackles. Shen Jiu, the abandoned son of his motherland, was banished to the temple as a hostage and became the most notorious dandy in the capital. Dissipation is his armor that tempers poison, and sincerity is the scale that he dare not touch. One pretends to be holy on the altar, and the other pretends to be dirty in the mud. They went from being childhood sweethearts to being on the same page. In every confrontation between restraint and provocation, the feelings they shouldn't have turned into poison. He once handed him a sprig of gardenia that was so fragrant that he cared about life and death: "This one is worthy of you." He once knelt in front of the Buddha until dawn, his fingertips digging into his palms and making them bloody. Until the imperial power was overthrown, Shen Jiu received the last order from his motherland: to destroy this "Bodhisattva of the enemy country" with his own hands. And Xie Yuan is faced with the biggest paradox in his life: Should he stick to the Buddhist destiny of protecting all living beings, or should he embrace the sin that made him want to fall into the world of mortals? "The bloody struggle of two souls under the strangulation of ethics and desire." Finally, at the enthronement ceremony, Shen Jiu used a carefully designed "regicide" and used blood as a sacrifice to completely push his Bodhisattva to the lonely altar. On the high platform, Xie Yuan's eyes were full of blood and tears, and he was praising compassion. In the flower shop at the end of the alley, the mute shop owner couldn't say a word of love or hate to the withered gardenias that filled the room. He became a mindless Buddha. He became speechless. No one can cross, no one can cross. Only the fragrance of gardenia from that year is left, lingering in the long sentence of each of them for the rest of their lives, withered and prosperous year by year. Intention: When love and responsibility are naturally at odds with each other, and sincerity and disguise are masks for each other, how can we complete a sacrifice and sacrifice to ourselves in the cage of fate.