"Go back, it's late at night."
"Master, Donor Bai comes here every year, but does he have any agreement with you?"
"He came to fulfill the promise, but the promise may not be for whom. He came naturally if he had something in mind."
"I just heard Donor Bai say that tonight he is looking forward to meeting his old friend in his dream. Master, tell me, the old friend that Donor Bai talks about is the scholar who came side by side with him when I was a child?"
"Oh, that scholar is not a scholar, Sanbao, you don't understand him..."
"Why? I remember that he is obviously a scholar. Could it be that I have misremembered? Master, he is a scholar."
"Silly boy, it's just a story after all. Scholars or knights, legends all remember him. Identity is just a piece of clothing worn by passers-by. It changes and can be confused by people who don't understand him."
"Master, my disciple doesn't understand..."
"When you grow up, you will naturally understand. Sanbao, let's go."
…
The two masters and apprentices held up the moon as a lamp, stepped on the snow and left traces, and gradually headed towards the Zen room in the backyard.
The lights in the hall suddenly dimmed, and wherever the moon shone, the incense burned into ashes.
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PS: It's a very short article, HE, I just saved it, please feel free to do so.
Conception: