Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You

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At noon three days later, an oasis appeared in front of me. After seeing the monotonous long yellow sand for a long time, I suddenly saw a large area of ​​green, which made me yell in excitement. Chumo Ruojibo saw me so excited, shook his head and sighed, but couldn't hold his smile, telling me that this is Wensuer.

Well, Wenxuer, he mentioned it when he first met me. Repeatedly reading this seemingly impressive place name, there must be a corresponding Chinese name, but I can’t remember it. When he was racking his brain, he was close to the city gate, and was suddenly surrounded by Western-style music. The cheerful melody was very pleasant, and a grand welcome team was cheering us on.

Several tents were set up along the road to the city gate. There are no people in it, but Buddha statues. In terms of engraving technology, it should be top grade. It turned out that the people sitting on the grass and the carpet stood together, carrying a plate of flowers to the mother and son respectfully. The mother and son folded their hands together for ten rites, took the flowers and sent them to the Buddha statue, and scattered the flowers on the Buddha statue.

I looked at this strange ritual and noticed the man headed by the guard of honor: in his forties, with a sturdy and burly body, with a short hair on the forehead, but a long hair in the back of the forehead, braided on the top of the head, embroidered with gold brocade Wrapped in gold crown with double phoenix motif. Dressed in a red diamond-patterned gold bead robe, with a round gold frill sewed on it, and pedaling down... Wait a minute, I'm guilty of occupational diseases, and have studied the living people in front of me as cultural relics.

Although he didn't understand it, he could tell that this was a member of the royal family who came out to greet him. The king was the one with precious cultural relics all over him. Although the beauty Jibo is also treated with respect, but the protagonist of such a high-standard welcoming ceremony is obviously Chumo Ruojibo.

I know that Chumo Ruojibo is by no means an ordinary monk, but no matter how clever, he is only 13 years old, and he is not yet the age to make great achievements. He must have other identities than monks, such as noble lineage or something. My heart moved, shouldn't he be a member of the royal family? Is he a prince? Ha ha, Buddha Shakyamuni was also a prince before his way.

We did not live in a temple, but lived in a magnificent palace in the royal palace. But it can never be compared with the Central Plains dynasty. Due to the drought in the Western Regions, the houses are dominated by simple wooden bones and mud walls, and the roof is flat. Houses built with earth walls are already high-end buildings, and usually only the government offices, temples, and palaces can enjoy the treatment of earth walls.

We now live in such a five-room luxury mansion, and the king who knows no country is equipped with ten maids. This time I have a single room. Looking at the furniture in the room is very simple: low bed, low cabinet, carpet, several cases. In this era, tables and chairs that sit high are not uncommon. People are used to sitting on the floor, so the furniture is low. Jibo saw too many people serving, and sent me a maid. The first instruction I gave was: I want to take a shower.

The hot springs, petals, and oversized bath barrels that often appear in the novel are not available here. The conditions are indeed poor, and the smell of the pancreas on the body is not as good as soap. However, I am optimistic by nature, and I can be soaked in the yellow sand for ten days or so and take a shower. I am already satisfied.

He came to my room during the evening teaching time. I know that the bed in this era has multiple functions and can be used for both sitting and lying. But I am a modern person, and I can’t get used to talking with people in bed anyway. Without tables and chairs, just sit on the carpet. A small case in the middle is the desk.

I can't wait to ask his identity. Chu Moruojibo said with a calm expression that could not be beaten by thunder: "The eyes, ears, tongue, body, and mind are not real, let alone names and positions?"

He actually dropped the Buddhist idealism with me. I stared at him fiercely: "Yes, yes, all four are empty, everything is empty! Zhuang Shengmengdie, I don't know if Zhuang Sheng is a butterfly, or a butterfly is Zhuang Sheng."

I didn't expect that Zhuang Shengmengdie, who rushed out of my mouth, caused him great interest and insisted that I tell this allusion. I had to tell him: "There was a philosopher named Zhuang Zhou in the Spring and Autumn Period in the Central Plains. He once dreamed that he had become a butterfly, a butterfly that was full of joy and vividness, and he was very happy and comfortable, not knowing that he was Zhuang. Zhou. Waking up for a while, I was surprised that he was Zhuang Zhou. Life is like a dream, so he couldn’t figure out whether Zhuang Zhou dreamed that he became a butterfly, or that butterfly dreamed that he became Zhuang Zhou."

He pondered quietly for a while, and then said: "Tianzhu said: Everything in the world is Brahma's dream. Once Brahma wakes up, the world disappears and everything is empty."

I sigh, this statement is really pessimistic. Not wanting to continue this idealistic topic, he asked, "Is Brahma a Brahma?"

The pronunciation of Brahma is familiar. I think of Shiva and Vishnu in Hinduism as the creator gods of the three great gods of Hinduism. I have been to India and have done some research on Hinduism, so I still have some understanding.

"Brahma?" He wrote the word Brahma in my sketchbook with a pencil, and tilted his head to think about it: "You said that'Brahma' means pure desire. Brahma is the creator of all things in the world,'Brahma' The name is really wonderful. Ai Qing, I heard that the Central Plains Dharma is not flourishing, but you have such a root of wisdom. The Central Plains Dharma is just around the corner."

I, I, I started stuttering again, and I plagiarized others' translation results. Kumarajiva, Xuan Zang, Yi Jing, and Buddhist translators I don't know, sorry, I didn't mean it.

When I went to bed at night, I suddenly thought that I had crossed the boundaries of time and space and came to him. Am I really there? Am I not empty? Am I also unaware in my dream?

For the first time, I felt sad for my passing.

We lived in this Wensuer. When I asked Chumoruo Jibo when he set out to go to Guizi, after all, compared to this small country, Guizi is much more attractive to me. But he said that he was invited to give a lecture at the Wangjia Great Temple to promote Dafa on July 7th, 49th, and he also gave me a guest seat.

So now I am sitting with Ji Bo and looking around curiously.

We are in the most magnificent hall in the Wangjia Grand Temple. In the middle is the statue of Buddha Shakyamuni, with a clay body and a gold body. The base is about two meters high and is placed in the niche. There are narrow passages around it for believers of the Buddha to circle. The wooden pillars and mud walls of the entire hall, only the door can transmit light, so oil lamps should be lit everywhere during the day. A typical Hindu Buddhist temple is very different from the Mahayana Buddhist temple that will become popular in the Central Plains in the future.

Early in the morning, Qiu Moruojibo led the monks to meditate, and hundreds of monks squeezed the not-so-big hall. On the left side of the VIP seat in front is the king and a dozen ministers greeted yesterday, and on the right, where Jibo and I are sitting, there are a group of women. Look at the clothing should be the queen and the lady.

Qiu Moruojibo sat on a high platform in front of a Buddha statue, wearing a sash of embroidered gold thread, with a solemn expression and solemn appearance. Even the group of kings and queens followed in the chanting. Only I was very embarrassed to lower my head so that others would not notice me. What is the bible of the Buddhist scriptures that I know in my heart? When Bammi Moonan Amitabha chanted up and down five hundred times, the whole chanting ended. Then Chumoruojibo began to speak.

I remember visiting the Mohammed Ali Mosque in Egypt. I was met by an imam explaining the Koran. There were hundreds of people inside and outside. I wrapped my headscarf, long trousers (a rule for women entering the mosque) and sat down in the crowd with them to worship. I am not a Muslim, just curious about how they pray. Imam spoke into the microphone, making strong gestures from time to time. But I couldn't understand Arabic at all, and it was boring in a moment. But looking at the pious expressions of the people around, the black crowd did not make a sound. If I get up and leave, it may hurt their religious feelings. So I sat for more than an hour and waited for the imam to finish talking before rubbing the numb legs. Then tell yourself not to listen to any worship anymore.

This is the situation right now. It's just that Chumoruoji Bo looks more seductive than Imam, and his voice is softer and nicer. However, my biggest problem is not understanding! Listening to this advanced Dharma is no different from listening to Arabic. Hundreds of monks around, the king and the queen listened intoxicated, how can I retire safely?

I don't dare to draw sketches, I'm afraid the movement is too strange to attract attention. So, when my professional research professional naming was repeated five times, I felt that the sleepy insects were attacking me frequently, alas, the result of getting up at four in the morning. The morning classes are held at five o'clock, and I really admire the perseverance of the monks. I was so sleepy that I couldn't fall asleep under the large crowd, so I had to secretly twist on the mat and do small, unobtrusive exercises.

It felt him locking my eyes, it was him. I grabbed my mouth and threw my tongue at him, rubbing my numb buttocks. He twitched the corner of his mouth upward, a little smirking. After a few more words, I stopped. Seeing everyone standing up to Qiu Moruojibo with his hands in salute, I quickly got up and painted the gourd.

The king summed up his speech, then gave a high-five, a row of palace people poured in, holding a few cases and food in hand, and arranged it in front of everyone on the VIP seat. There is no separate case for the ordinary seat after the VIP seat, but a copy directly. I was dumbfounded by looking at the things in the few cases.

The fruits are of course Xinjiang specialties, with grapes and melons. Naan is also essential. But what is this? With oily glow and aroma, isn't this barbecue? From the appearance, roast lamb is more likely. Xinjiang’s roast lamb is of course famous, and I haven’t eaten any meat for ten days, but besides me, the king and other secular people, all the monks are also divided into meat, and the whole hall suddenly smells of meat. . Under the leadership of the king, everyone started, chewing the meat constantly.

I stared at Chumo Ruojibo, who was still sitting in position, and saw that he was also chewing on the meat. Although his movements were elegant, the visual impact on me was too great. Suddenly thought that since this temple pattern is a model of Theravada Buddhism, then they should believe in Theravada Buddhism, and I remember that the Theravada monks can eat meat. But I can't remember it, and I'll check with him later in the evening. After biting the meat, the taste is not too good, only sprinkled with salt, no chili or cumin, it is not as good as the stall in front of our school.

After eating and drinking, I urinate and think about it. Forty-eight days later I will be depressed. When he came back, he saw Chumo Ruojibo standing by the door, and the noon sun was shining on him, and Jin Hui was shining. He squinted and smiled at me: "Ai Qing, it's too uncomfortable to know that you don't understand. It's too uncomfortable to sit like this. I've asked Wang for instructions. You don't need to participate."

Great! I jumped three feet in height, almost rushed to give a hug, think about his identity as a monk, just forget it. With thanks, he ran with his legs raised, and heard him shouting behind him: "You go back to the house to practice yesterday's Guiziwen. If you can't pass the exam at night, you have to beat your palms."

In the evening, he arrived in my room on time. I went back in the afternoon to make up for my sleep. I also used my memories to draw the scenes of the Buddhist temples and lectures I saw, and I was waiting for him with great energy.

My spitting Rowan exam passed successfully. When I was teaching, I quickly asked him the question that he had been bored all afternoon: "Why do you eat meat?"

He was surprised: "We believe in Hinayana, of course we can eat meat. However, we can only eat Sanjing meat."

Three net meat? It should be the meat allowed by the Theravada Buddhist monks. Then asked: "So what can we call Sanjing meat?"

"First: I don’t see the killing, that is, I don’t see the tragic scene of the dying livestock; Second: I don’t hear the killing, I don’t hear the sound of its screaming; Third: I don’t kill myself, that is, I don’t want to kill myself. It’s killing only after eating. For example, if you go to the market and you see that the street vendors are killing chickens and fish, or the sellers tell them that the meat is freshly slaughtered, it’s not compatible; When the chickens slaughter the ducks to entertain, this means that all beings are killed for themselves. This is not Sanjing meat. In short, if you don’t see or kill me, you can only be called Sanjing meat if you meet the three conditions at the same time."

After Buddhism spread to the Central Plains, the commandments were stricter. Mahayana Buddhism strictly forbids killing even the meat. Therefore, in our impression, monks are not allowed to eat meat. Suddenly remembered, Xuan Zang once talked about the problem of eating meat in The Story of the Tang Dynasty. When he traveled west to the Western Regions, he was not used to eating meat from Western monks.

"But why haven't we eaten meat on the road?" I never realized they could eat meat, just because they hadn't eaten meat for so many days following them on the road.

"Because you have eaten the dried meat before meeting you."

I nodded, and now I finally figured it out. Remember if you let the Central Plains monks see that they can eat meat, I wonder if they are envious or disgusted? "Well, then, you just said that you are Hinayana, this Hinayana seems to sound familiar. What does it mean?"

He thought about it for a long time, and said a bunch of words, I can understand a little bit of Tyrannosaurus now, so knowing that he is not speaking Tyrannosaurus, it must be Sanskrit, this is medieval Middle Asia Mandarin around. By the way, he also spoke Sanskrit today in Sanskrit, because I can’t understand a single word. If it's Tuluran, I can understand a few words.

I heard another sound from him: Mahayana. When I went to India, I brought an English version of LonelyPlanet (the most authoritative and popular self-guided travel guide series in the world). These two words often appear in the attraction introduction. Related to Buddhism, he also said that he believed in Hinayana and ate Sanjing meat. Ah, I suddenly thought:

"Mahayana Buddhism and Hinayana Buddhism, right? Mahayana is Mahayana, Hinayana is Mahayana."

Seeing him puzzled, I wrote "Mahayana" and "Hinaya" in the sketchbook: ""ride" refers to the vehicle, which is a metaphor for Buddhism and Buddha to ride all beings here, just as a boat can carry people to Dapi. Hinayana emphasizes crossing yourself In pursuit of personal liberation, the Chinese translation is called Theravada. Mahayana emphasizes crossing others and pursuing all beings, so the Chinese translation is called Mahayana."

I'm proud, I can be blind even in Sanskrit. I bumped into his gleaming big eyes and saw his knowing smile in his eyes. I fought a cold war all at once.

"Ai Qing, as I said, you have Huigen."

I, I, and plagiarized the translation achievements of my predecessors. It seems that Kumarajiva turned it over, sorry, I didn’t mean it...

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This welcoming ceremony was written with reference to Qian Wenzhong's "Xuanzhuang Journey to the West" Xuanzhuang's welcome ceremony in Guizi. Xuan Zang was a person from the early Tang Dynasty, two hundred years later than the male, so in the male era, this set of etiquette should not change much.

On the issue of monks eating meat: Assumption Buddhist monks can eat meat as long as they meet the requirements of Sanjing meat. So far in Southeast Asia where Theravada Buddhism is popular, Theravada monks still eat meat. When Buddhism first came to the Central Plains, it did not abstain from eating meat. It is said that the abstinence began from the frantic Buddhist emperor Liang Wu in the Southern Dynasty.