Qingruo was just like any other human being who was experiencing a slight ups and downs. By chance, he entered a strange world. When he first saw the man who looked like a god, his heart sank, and his heart was filled to overflowing at any time. . . . . .
That night, I listened to Sanskrit singing all night, not for enlightenment, but just to find a trace of your breath.
In that month, I turned all the prayer wheels, not for salvation, but just to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I bowed my head and hugged the dust, not to worship Buddha, but just to stay close to your warmth.
In that life, I traveled across hundreds of thousands of mountains, not to cultivate the next life, but to wish you peace and happiness.
The first time I saw Shaka, he walked slowly in the darkness. Everywhere you go, beautiful flowers bloom and shine. He stands in the wind, facing the water and shining on the flowers. . . . . .