Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You

Chapter 68: Life Like an Ant (2)

I walked past the drum tower with Rosh, Hu Yanping, Duan Ying Ting, and more than twenty Turtles disciples from Rosh. Lu Guanghong, the second son of Lu Guanghong, was responsible for the conscription, and when he saw us, he ignored us intentionally. Why should I be so proud? He also wanted to stand on his own after Lu Cai forced Lu Shao to die, but was defeated and killed by Lu Cai. Lu Guang's sons, what else can you do besides fight each other in the nest?

“Master, split the buns first. I joined the army just to feed my mother a bun. ”

A loud, mute voice in a period of alternating voice caught our attention. Half a child, at most thirteen or four years of age, has a runny nose and is frozen purple on his cheek. Rotten shoes on the feet, toes exposed outside, blackened, indistinguishable.

“The buns had to wait for the battalion to get out, and now they don't.” The officer who was busy filling the list answered impatiently.

“When will that be? ”

“Shut up, are you going to vote or not? Next!”

“I vote, I vote.” Press the thumb on the red mud and press on the paper. A life sold out like this, still a child.

“Shun, Mother doesn't want you to join the army. You're only 13 years old.” A woman fell and ran over, screaming and screaming at the child.

“Master, I've got fifteen years. My mother couldn't resist saying that.” The child saw the officer frowned and said hastily. Several soldiers arrived, pulled his mother's hand away and took the child to the back of the tent.

The child turned to the woman and shouted, "Mother, I'll bring you some buns later. ”

I couldn't bear to watch. This is so naive. How could he possibly get out of that camp? When I saw Rosh around me pulling it out in his arms, he didn't pull anything out, whispering to me: “Is there any money left? ”

I nodded, touched out a few copper plates, walked up to the woman who was still crying and gave it to her. She looked up and couldn't see the colour on her dirty face. She didn't pick it up and suddenly knelt down to Rosh: "I don't want the money. Master, please read the Scripture and bless my son to return safely. ”

Rosh moves, fake help, I pull her up quickly.

“Master, help my son with his scriptures. ”

“Mage, and me, I'm an orphan, just read it for me once. ”

“Mage...”

There was an increasing choking noise in the team, Rosh looked up, thousands of dressed people, just to get a full meal, leave their families and go to the battlefield without knowing life or death. The corners of Rosh's mouth fluttered and the bottom of his eyes poured out with endless sadness. Turning to admonish the disciples, the disciples spread out and walked into the middle of the team to recite the peace spell for those who asked for blessings. The vast majority of the people closed their eyes and received the blessings of the Buddha in piety.

Snow flakes began to drift again, the snow fell, the sanskrits murmured, the cries depressed, one piece of red stamped paper after another, and the conscription platform was quickly filled with bases.

That night, he stayed awake for a long time, and there was a miserable white snow outside, reflecting his sorrow: "Ai Qing, man is alive and suffering. I am powerless, unable to stop natural disasters, nor can I stop man-made disasters. What exactly can I do for them? ”

The sorrow in his heart is not with him. Put a cotton coat on him, pull his hand over him, and lean against his shoulder.

“You can do a lot. Buddhism arises from suffering, and when the Buddha sees the dust, everything in the world suffers, so there is Buddhism. It is a spiritual comfort that temporarily oblivion suffering and a wonderful fantasy for the future. I remember a Western archdeacon saying, 'Religion is the sigh of an oppressed mind, the emotion of a heartless world’.” (Speaking of Max's Introduction to Hegel's Philosophical Criticism)

Turn around and hold his hand: "Rosh, do what you can to give some spiritual comfort to those who suffer. Even if they cannot escape the fate of frozen starvation, at least let them close their eyes with their hopes for the next life before they die. ”

He looked back at me. To save money, we didn't light the lights, and the reflections of the snow still illuminated the deep sadness in his eyes. He whispered my name in his arms. And I, let the tears soak his collar. What you see these days, for me, is not a mental shock?

Lu Hong's recruitment ended five days later and more than 30,000 people were recruited. Apart from the elderly and the infirm, no younger people can be seen among the displaced. Three days later, Lu Hong set out to assist Lu Guang with newly recruited soldiers and a large amount of food. When the team was pulled out, Rosh took his disciples to pray for them, and the displaced people who joined the army finally wore cotton jackets, grass ropes between their waists, and a big “pawn” on the back. The putrid hand held the bow spear and his eyes were full of confusion. It is only by killing people who have nothing to do with themselves that we can get the buns. What is more, in this barbaric mixed war, they may have their own relatives among the enemies they face.

That whole day, Auntie was crying all over the city, looking up at the sky, and the snow flakes fell on her face. Remembering a "Separation Valley" in the North Korean folk song, depicting the tragedy of brotherhood:

Brother is out of town, bow without strings, arrow without brackets, food is scarce, how can you live! Help me!

Without this crossing, I would never cut my body like a termite.

I'm still busy every day, my hands and feet grow frostbite for the first time in my life, and it hurts and itches, and rubbing ginger chips doesn't help. But none of this spared us, and one nightmare struck us with dismay.

By mid-December of the lunar calendar, as I know, food had risen to the highest price in that period of history, at 500 literature per battle. Li came to us with a calm face and said he couldn't hold on any longer. All his industries, such as inns, liquors, pharmacies, etc. can no longer be run. Tenant rents are also simply not received due to the exile of tenant farmers. He suffered losses that had never occurred in previous years. Those leftovers in the warehouse must ensure that the entire Lee family survives this cold winter.

This is no less than a sunny thunderbolt for us. How long can we survive without his support? Rosh and I prayed for him in agony, but it was useless. Li just told us with regret that this time he had to eat his words, it was his fault. If we had any other requirements besides relief, he would have done so as long as he could.

That night, Roshmere cleaned it up. Put the books, the extra clothes, everything he thinks he can sell out and give it to me.

He glanced at me and told me firmly: "Ai Qing, I will not buy any more books, I will not change clothes every day, let alone eat meat every dozen days. Whatever the victims eat, so do I. But wherever you can save money, you must save it. Roche wants to save people too. ”

I was shocked when the book fell to the ground: "Rosh, minus the number of conscripts, there are still 78,000 people affected. We can only save our own food for two or three days at most. What are we gonna do in two or three days? ”

He silently picked up the book and placed it on several cases, staring at the slightly beating core of the oil lamp, which lit his eyes with helplessness and silence. I know he won't tolerate it, but I have to.

Gently pulled his arm, softly exhorted: "Rosh, give it up, we've done everything we can. We have to keep these grains for the winter... ”

“No.” He interrupted me, with an unusual obsession in his clear grey eyes, "We can still sell things, and I can go back to Da Guan for a distinguished donation. I will never give up before the end of the road. ”

When I think of the short phrase in "Jin Jin", suddenly sadness comes from it. “But this famine would have...”

“Tomorrow, I'll go find Lusho.” He didn't seem to care what I said, his eyes sparkled, and the whole person was cut out of an unusual halo by the dusk light. At this moment he, as holy as the statue of the Buddha of mercy, shines the only light in this darkness.

Put his hands on his heart, stare into his clear eyes and take a deep breath: "Okay, this is your choice. I'm your wife, and I should suffer with you. ”

He touched my face and his soft lips fell on his cheek: “Aiqing, you are thin...”

Develop a filament for me, and the bottom of my eyes pours out crystalline light. The throat rose and fell in an elegant neck, whispering: "How good is your time, no such disaster, no inhumane war. Come here to follow me, it made you suffer together..."

I shook my head so hard that I could not stop it and cried in his arms. Indeed, I have never suffered so much, and for the twenty-first century I have been too accustomed to the wealth of goods in peacetime. But my time has also suffered. Famine in Africa, wars in the Middle East, genocidal vendettas. It's just that they're too far away from me, and I'll just say a few words. Without the sixteen more than a thousand years ago, how could I have expected myself to start suffering from hunger three days later?

And I cry not because I'm afraid of the impending hunger, or because I want to see so many people die every day, but because I know how this famine ends. On several occasions, the third word reached his mouth, but he still swallowed it back. Why did you have to let him know about this cruel note? I would rather endure the torment of knowing the end and support him to the best of my ability, in accordance with his wishes.