Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You

Chapter 17 Anyway, Just Come Back

The next day, the Persians left for Chang 'an. I am neither Persian nor Taoist, and naturally I can no longer mix in the Taoist chapel. I'm going to take a look around and look for a place to stay.

The streets are still heeled and flowing towards the West Gate. I seem to hear them shouting "Kumarajiva”. Seizing a middle-aged man, he said that today there was a grand lecture outside the Siemens stadium, lectured by the famous Kumarajiva Master. The opportunity was rare, so hurry up and grab a good seat.

The rest of the words drifted into my ear, and I unwittingly mumbled, and my legs drifted off with my middle-aged uncle.

Here we are again in the General Assembly Hall of the Five-Year Conference. Those two four or five meters tall Buddha statues that paraded yesterday should now be in a temple somewhere in the city. There was a loud voice in the room, and everyone sat in their seats. There is a golden Leo on a tall stage with a golden wooden mattress and a golden glow in the sun. I'm still too late to sit in the back. The proportion of women in the population was higher than that of men, and their faces were reddish and they looked up to the front of the table. Alas, handsome guys hire people everywhere, even monks. If we change to a skinny old monk today, will there still be so many women in the audience? I remembered to explain to him Confucius “I have not seen the good as the good as the good”, not by Guan 'er. Old man Makoto doesn't bully me.

The crowd rioted and the women stretched their necks. I can't wait to look up to the table. Someone came to power, not him, but Wang Bai Chun of Turtles, leading a group of nobles in a circle. Then, he came out, still a golden thread stitched, and walked calmly toward the Golden Leo in the middle of the stage. White knelt down in front of Leo Gold with his hands raised. Rosh stepped on white pure hands, while the other stepped on white pure shoulders and sat on the Golden Leo. The crowd stayed. Such a high standard of courtesy. Don't tell me I've never even met the Turks, have I? He wrote in his biography: "King Turtles is a goldsmith. Paved with Daqin Jin bedding. Rinschl said that.” I saw it today to see if it was true.

White waited for Rosh to settle down before sitting on the carpet under the Golden Master's seat with the noble plates. Rosh has spoken, in Torcharo, and I think it's because of the low Sanskrit penetration rate in public speaking. His voice removed naivety and added more maturity than when he was 13, ironing every nerve of his audience with a gentle ear. He began with a few introductory remarks, brief and humble, that made everyone sound comfortable. His speaking skills have grown again, and I'm sure he has said a lot of things over the years.

Then get to the point and start talking. He spoke of the Buddha's dwelling in the trees of the Kingdom of Shewei to the Solitude Garden, where there were 1,250 men in the Great Picchu. One day, until noon, the Buddha, as usual, will put on his clothes, hold a bowl of rice, and enter the King's City of Shewei to beg. Poor, rich and poor, follow the doorknob in turn. Return to the garden, finish your meal, pack your bowls, and sit quietly after washing your feet. At this time, the elder Buddha, among his disciples, stood up from his seat, bare his right shoulder, knelt on the ground with his right knee, and began to ask the Buddha questions with his hands together.

Then I fainted. He was all about storytelling, and I could hear a lot of things about him, including Buddhist knowledge, even with the speculation monk, at the level of the spouting Roman language that I could converse with, and after going back to modern times. However, the following is a hard Buddhist method. Although his speech is not fast and every word is clear, the vast majority of the words are spewing fire that I don't know, or a fog. I remember listening to him for the first time in warm lodging and remembering as vividly as yesterday. In fact, all of his memories are clear, after all, to me it just happened less than a year ago.

He swings his sleeves and reveals a string of Buddha beads wrapped around his left hand. Is that my illusion? Why do I have a hunch that those beads are the New Year's gifts I gave him before I left? I looked firmly at him on the Golden Leo, far away, but I could still see his calmness and complacency without sighing.

Rosh, I've been around you for two days, but I can't get to you. Can I only look at you as far away as the women with the red eyes? Scripture, I'm not running anymore. Can you see me?

After two hours of this talk, he didn't have a speech, he didn't even hit a chirp. He spoke for seven, seven, forty-nine days in warm lodging, and although I only saw it for half a day, I was sure he didn't have a speech either. I knew he was smart enough to remember, but I couldn't help but admire him. It is with great pain that I conclude, based on 20 per cent of what I can understand, that he is promoting the philosophy of the great multiplication of “emptiness”, and that the scriptures he speaks of are one of his famous translations in the future: the Vajra Boromi, commonly known as the Vajra.

I can't carry the whole Vajra, but back in the 21st century, I deliberately read this book, which is very important to Rosh. The entire passage, which is not long and does not exceed 5,000 words, is expounded in the Q&A of the first disciple of the Buddha, the Bodhi and the Buddha. “Empty” is the hardest to express in words and words, so there are many deep Buddhist sentences in the Vajra that are meant to be "unspeakable, unspeakable”. There are six editions of this book, both translated by Rosh and Xuan. The Buddhist community calls what Rosh translates an old translation and what Xuan translates a new translation. However, the new translation, which strictly adhered to the original language, was forgotten, while the old translation, which Rosh favoured, circulated for 1650 years.

My favorite part of Rosh's translation is, "Everything works, like a dream bubble, like dew or electricity, should be watched." Such elegance and elegance, with all its faint wisdom, comes from Rosh's translation of the Vajra, known as the Six Rumors. Having seen such translations, one can understand why Rosh's translations are still the most widely disseminated over the millennium.

Watching him publicly preach “empty” reason, he really converted from small to large, and fought the traditional small forces of Turtles to actively promote large multiplication. It is true that after more than a decade of his efforts, almost all of Turtles have changed their minds. However, he will not know that when he leaves Turz and never returns, the great multiplier advantage he has built up in Turz will fade rapidly, and the small multiplier will flourish again until Turz returns to the fold and all are forced to convert to the * * * religion. Big Buddhism is in Turz, only because he is alone, like a flower.

I did not leave immediately after that and walked northwest of the venue. The river, which was not very wide, was in a rush, and a wooden bridge appeared on the river. The “strange” temple on the other side of the river is still magnificent and glittering with gold on the roof, and looks like it has been overhauled. Thinking of me shaking over the ice, Rosh's hands were warm and wet and he couldn't help laughing. It's my first snow blind, but it's mild. Close your eyes and think back to the panic in your heart.

“Rosh, how can I not see you? ”

“Take it easy. Close your eyes. It'll just take a minute. It's my fault. I should warn you not to stare at the snow for too long. ”

“Rosh, am I going blind? ”

“No.”

“What if I'm really blind? ”

“No.”

“You're back? ”

I don't think the last sentence came out of my memory bank, do I? Open your eyes violently and turn your head quickly. Settle down, eyes wide open, open again, big enough to leave only his wind and clouds...

“It's been ten years. Why do you still have that stupid look? ”

Well, he said, "You'd be smarter if you didn't have those silly faces." It turns out that those memories that are alive to me, in him, have been around for 10 years. My nose is a little sour and I have a cold.

“What's the matter? Don't you know me?” My right arm was stretched out to me and I was just about to hit my shoulder, but I made another turn and I shrunk back. Originally staring into my eyes, I flashed a few times, slightly biased my head and sank the curtains. In an instant, he reached out again and grabbed my right hand: “What happened to my hand? ”

I saw my right palm with his eyes, and yesterday I fell down and held on to it, and it was broken by a little rock. Elbows also wore a layer of skin, but were hidden in clothes and there was no visible injury outside. It wasn't until I stayed in the Persian chapel last night that I handled it briefly. Now, a little swollen. Without anti-inflammatory drugs, tetanus can kill people. I can't, I can only go back to the 21st century...

Just thinking about it, feeling pulled in the direction of the venue.

“To where?” His palms are still warm and a little wet.

“See a doctor.” He looked out to the distant table. There were no more people in the hall, and a few rare monks were cleaning up. “The king has gone back. Follow me to the palace. ”

“You...” a little hesitant, "don't ask me why I haven't changed?” Alas, he didn't ask me if I was upset, but if he did, what would I do?

Ten years later, he had grown up to be such a handsome young man, and I, for one, had made no difference. And then I realized that we were all twenty-four years old now. He was the same age as me, holding my hand, careful not to touch the wound. He is a monk and there are others in the venue...

Feeling me stop, he turns around and sees me staring at him holding my hand. Suddenly realizing what was happening, he let go in a hurry and a red spot appeared on his face that I was familiar with. He lowered his eyes and said softly, “Fursati said you were a fairy...” He looked up at me again, his light grey eyes flowing, pure and bright.

“Anyway, just come back...”

I must have caught a cold with an unknown straightening of acid through my nose.

We didn't go to the palace to see a doctor. I was afraid to see someone I knew. Rosh didn't treat me like a monster. Maybe someone will burn me on fire. I'd better keep my head down. I didn't explain my concerns to him, but when I hesitated, he understood.

I carried a backpack of NORTHFACE in Rosh's exclusive carriage, where he took me to stay at night. His carriage doesn't look luxurious, but it's comfortable inside, with good carpeting and a great horse. As a monk, he shouldn't have any personal possessions, but he's actually lived his life in peace, well-supplied, and accompanied by waiters. He may not even have reached the age of 10 years when he is treated in a special way: “The sun gives a pair of gooseberries, three battles of rice noodles and six liters of soufflé, in addition to the country. The monks residing in the monastery are the five worst monks and the ten Sha Mi. They look at the sprinklers. There are some disciples. It admires that.” In the TV show, the biggest shot is to sweep the floor with a big broom. I'm afraid he's never done what these poor kids have to do to get out of the house in his life.

The waving of the carriage pulled my god back and set his eyes on Rosh across the street, his face starting to faint red again sometime.

I hummed, my eyes staring at the Buddha's beads on his left wrist, I couldn't see the original color, several of the beads had gaps. “It's old and still wearing. ”

He leaned over his head and his left hand shrunk toward the brim. “Well, always. Didn't think to change...”

I took my onion arm beads from the backpack that the Persians gave me: "Put this on. ”

He looked at the beads in my hand, a little hairy. Each one of those onions is even, crisp and crisp, and at first glance a good color. He paused for a while, reaching over and not wearing it, carefully putting it in his arms.

He looked at me with a layer of smoke and didn't really see it. I think this car is really upside down...