Legend of Buddha

The clouds on the soles of the feet point to the lotuses, and the phantom traces occasionally send wind and smoke. When I come home late, I lie down in the pot. Who knows that there is more heaven in the pot? The romantic relationship between man and monster, the struggle between Buddha and Tao, should we forget our love and hatred and enjoy the wealth and honor in the world, or should we cut off the earthly ties and open the door to immortality?