all empty

The shovel in my hand fell to the ground with a clang, and I thought I would scream, exclaim, and feel heart-piercing fear.But I didn't, I just choked the hoarse syllables in my throat, and instinctively panted like a beast.

It was not a pair of eyes, but one, as big as two fists put together.

Chaotic, empty, covered with blood and ashes, as tired as if you haven't closed your eyes for hundreds of years.

Those eyes stared at me, and the pupils opened and closed as it breathed. When it shrinks, it looks like a vicious beast, but when it expands, it looks like a compassionate monk and Buddha.

I can imagine how colossal its owner is, and how it huddled under this crumbling ancient temple with intertwined roots. Once it broke through the ground, it would be so shocking and overwhelming.

I closed my eyes, the sweat on my palms was wet and dry, mixed with the remaining soil, giving off a disgusting smell.I think my posture should be extremely embarrassing, extremely humble, I have swallowed education and civilization, and now there is only a fragile carapace, waiting for it to be swallowed effortlessly.

He breathed heavily for several centuries, and when he opened his eyes again, the single eye was gone, leaving only a black lacquered mud hole that had been excavated, like a bone socket that had lost its eyeball.

I originally wanted to collapse on the ground like a collapse, but the dullness of my brain dominated my body. I squatted down tremblingly, and hugged my head, which was gradually returning blood, with both hands.

There was a clicking sound, my heart contracted suddenly, and I reflexively looked towards the entrance of the cave. There was a wooden box half hidden in the loose soil.It is very different from the dilapidated surroundings. Although the wooden box is old, it is well preserved. It is not dusty at all, and has a faint luster of newly cut Chinese pine.

The wooden box is tightly closed, but it is not locked. It is only sealed with a page of hand-copied Buddhist scriptures. The characters of the Buddhist scriptures are crooked, just like the ones on the plaque in Qingtan Temple.

My teeth trembled faintly, and I stretched out my hand like a poisoned gu, but before I touched it, the Buddha's gatha fell in response to the wind, fell to the ground, shrank and rotted quickly, and finally turned into wet soot.

There was a crack in the opening of the wooden box, like a lifeless dead thing, with its mouth slightly open.

I opened the wooden box, and there was an old smell of ink and a lingering fragrance inside, like the fresh poria cocos on a girl's cheeks.

I picked up the top thing, and it was a strand of intertwined hair.

The hair is like a fine brocade thread, which is as soft as ink satin in the hand, and it pours on the fingertips seamlessly, occasionally reflecting the light and shadow of the clouds outside.

A pair of hands wearing prayer beads carefully combed the hair, and gently rolled up the bun.

The root of the hair on the top was pulled slightly, it was numb, like a lark pecking at it carefully, Lu Li restlessly avoided this delicate touch, his eyes followed Mo Can's hand binding her hair in the mirror, and said with a smile : "I have been doing it for many years, but my hands and feet are so clumsy that I can't comb the bun well. Please help me, little master."

Mo Shen picked up the wooden comb and brushed the broken hair around her ears. His eyes like distant mountains met her smiling eyes that were as bright as spring peaches in the mirror, and his eyelashes trembled slightly, and then lowered slightly.

Lu Li wrapped his index finger around his hair, and said, "I saw that the monk and aunt at the foot of the mountain had a bald head, and it looked a little like me in the original time."

She sneered again: "Why don't my little master shave my head too, I'm not used to wearing this hairy hair all day long."

Mo Shen shook his head: "Master Liaokong said that the hair can only be shaved and cut off when the six roots are clean."

Lu Li looked at Mo Shen's long hair that looked like splashed ink, and thought, "Then little master is pulling his hair up and combing it in a bun, is it possible that six strands are not clean?"

Mo Shen didn't say a word, and his eyes, which were as elegant as bamboo leaves, were a little more confused.

Lu Li looked at her hand combing her hair, bit his lips and said with a smile, "But the little master lives here alone, with no worries, the only concern is Ah Li."

As soon as she raised her head, she met Mo Can with her shining eyes, and asked, "Ah Li can be regarded as the six roots of the little master?"

She spoke slyly and innocently, and when she spoke, she gently tugged at the hem of Mo Can's clothes. Looking at her childish face, Mo Can slightly hooked the corner of his mouth, and said softly, "There is only one tail for the snake."

Lu Li looked into her eyes, and while she was holding her hair, he felt the warmth of her hands from ironing. As the strands of hair climbed, the heat hit the back of her neck, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up inexplicably.

The numbness in her eyes was worse than the numbness on the top of her head just now, and it was as hard to resolve as it was bleeding to the bone.

Lu Li evasively moved his eyes away, twisted the hem of his clothes and said in a low voice, "Ah Li now has a humanoid shape, with human feet, it counts as two."

She touched the prayer beads Mo Can gave her, and she didn't know when a piece of hair was wrapped around it. She hadn't noticed it before, and she didn't know if it was Mo Can's or her own.

She glanced at the hair and then at Mo Shen.

Some flustered, but also some inhuman joy.

My sister once said that monks are not considered human beings, but the appearance of the little master just now is a human being.

The sound of lingling water came next to his ears, Lu Li turned his head and saw that Mo Shen had already put down the grate and cleaned his hands.Lu Li picked up the gray coarse cotton cloth on the side for Mo Can to wipe, and then handed over the prayer beads that were left aside, slipped them into Mo Can's wrist, and asked, "What did little master recite today?"

Mo Shen caressed the Buddha beads with his index finger, ""Enlightened the Righteousness"." Seeing Lu Li's hesitation, he said, "You just recite the "Heart Sutra"."

Lu Li's talent is not high, and he is illiterate. From spring to autumn, he can barely finish the morning lessons with Mo Shen.

Mo Shen knew in his heart that each way has its own causes, and practice is also a predestined method, so he never forced it.

Lu Li was still biting his lip, and Mo Shen turned his face slightly, waiting for her to speak.

Lu Li really said: "The plaque in the temple is very old. The little master said to make another one a while ago. I chopped down a tree and ground the plaque in the past few days. I just wait for the little master to inscribe it."

Mo Shen smiled when he heard the words: "You take it in."

Lu Li went away happily, and soon moved a wooden plaque made from the heart of a yellow elm tree.

Mo Shen studied the ink well, saw her come in, closed his sleeves and checked the pen with plain hands, and said: "You come."

Lu Li waved his hand: "My handwriting is very ugly. If it is inscribed on the plaque, I am afraid that the incense will be cut off from now on."

"It's just you and me here, there is no incense."

After Mo Shen finished speaking, he dipped the tip of his pen in some ink, bowed his head and said, "I'll write it once, and you can trace it once."

Lu Li was overjoyed, and responded sweetly, snuggling up to her side, turning his head to watch her write.Mo Shen's handwriting is the same as hers, very upright, but his movements are smooth and smooth, and the character frame is full of elegant style.

"Qingtan Temple——" Lu Li muttered, and suddenly said, "I heard from my sister that the monk lives in the temple, the aunt lives in the nunnery, and the little master is a girl, why does she live in the temple?"

Mo Shen paused for a pen.

"People who become monks have neither male nor female."