A light came from the darkness, and Xiang Chujunzi's long black eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings and slowly opened. What came into view was the dim roof with a Japanese style. Xiang Chujunzi's clear pupils shrank slightly, with some fear and some surprise, and slowly raised her hands, looking at the delicate and beautiful ten slender fingers, the white and tender arms, and the slender and soft legs.

Xiang Chujunzi's heart was filled with sadness. She was as if in a dream, and recalled the darkest memory. Her hands and feet were chopped off by the snow-like knife light, followed by severe pain. The four broken ends were sealed with glue, and her tongue was cut off. She could not do anything, and could only lie quietly and die gradually in numbness in the tide of pain.

She heard wailing and crying, she heard wailing and roaring, she heard the sound of death, but she could do nothing. She saw flames shooting up into the sky and the bright red dangerous flames burning the room, but she still could not do anything and could only wait to die in silence. That was the fear of death, but Junko Xiangchu had nothing to be afraid of.

If you die, then you die.

Then there was endless darkness. Xiang Chujunzi never thought that she could survive. Her severed hands, feet and tongue were all intact, as if all the pain, sorrow and despair were just a dream, but she knew that they were all real.

With a creaking sound, a dim light came on as the door was pushed open, and a person walked in slowly. Xiang Chu Junzi blinked and looked fixedly at Yun Luo who was smiling gently. Some scattered memories emerged. It was the monkey mask with blue mysterious patterns, it was a warm embrace, and it was a bright red squeak.

Was it him who saved him?

As Xiang Chu Junzi thought about this, her body became so weak that she couldn't even stand up. She wanted to bow down to Yingying like the Meinin teachers had taught her, but she couldn't do it.

"It's okay, don't worry, you're still alive, that's good." Yun Luo said lightly. Saving Xiang Chu Chunzi casually was a casual act for Yun Luo. If Xiang Chu Chunzi was harmful to him, he wouldn't mind killing her.

Yunluo looked at Xiang Chuchunzi with a gentle smile. The red mouse Tangtang lazily lay on Yunluo's right shoulder, blinking his sapphire eyes and looking at Xiang Chuchunzi.

Xiang Chu Chunzi said thank you in a charming way, but the Japanese she spoke was not a complete sentence. She could not control her newly born tongue, but her voice was soft and delicate. Yun Luo smiled slightly, and Xiang Chu Chunzi lost consciousness and fell asleep.

…

Yunluo's first surprise about Kyoto was hearing the cuckoo's call. It wasn't under a tree, and Kyoto was not exactly shady with greenery.

The first autograph session in Tokyo, which was also a fan meeting for Siren, was very successful. Yun Luo shook hands with and signed books for a total of 5,673 people throughout the day. This was even though Yun Luo was careful not to be too extraordinary, but such a result also surprised and amazed Shimizu Tanaka.

Xiang Chuchunzi followed Yunluo quietly and gracefully, and the red rat Tangtang lay on the girl's shoulders obediently. Yunluo let Tangtang follow Xiang Chuchunzi intentionally or unintentionally, and also wanted the red rat to keep an eye on Xiang Chuchunzi. If Xiang Chuchunzi did anything that shouldn't happen, Tangtang would let Xiang Chuchunzi know the cruelty of the fourth-level alien beast.

On Qingshui Tanaka's side, Xiang Chu Junzi appeared as Yunluo's tour guide. Yunluo did not introduce her in detail to Qingshui Tanaka, and Qingshui Tanaka was very tactful and did not ask. But in Qingshui Tanaka's eyes, he probably regarded Xiang Chu Junzi as a girl engaged in compensated dating, because Xiang Chu Junzi was pure and charming like a little fox.

People coming out of the train station will be disappointed when they first see Kyoto. They see modern streets, modern bus stops, and pedestrians in modern clothes. There is no trace of ancient charm. Standing at the traffic light, waiting to cross the road, the moment the green light comes on, the sound of birds chirping can be heard on the sidewalk, very crisp.

…Kyoto people are really good at thinking that the green light is accompanied by the sound of birdsong. There is more than one traffic light. Walking from Nishi Honganji Temple to Nijo Castle, crossing the road, I heard birdsong all the way. There are two kinds of birdsong, one I don’t recognize: chirp, chirp, chirp, like a little bird sipping and pecking, and then chirping happily when it raises its head. The other sound is very familiar, it is the cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo.

Yunluo felt like he was back in spring, standing in the wilderness. Compared to the slightly crowded Kyoto Station, the north-south avenue in the west of the city was wide and spacious, and the east-west alleys were quiet and deep. The low wooden lattice doors and paper windows gradually revealed the Kyoto style as an ancient capital. Xiangchu Junzi followed Yunluo quietly, not saying a word, but occasionally smiling softly.

Yunluo began to appreciate the beauty of Japanese gardens from a tile.

Kyoto's gardens are scattered in different directions. Temples and residences of historical figures are famous for the beauty of their gardens. From the map, Nishi Honganji Temple is the closest, so Yunluo decided to visit Nishi Honganji Temple first. A little further north is Nijo Castle. Xiangchu Junzi naturally took Yunluo's arm, and Yunluo followed her. For the time being, Yunluo had not yet decided what to do with her.

Beauty and I are nothing but clouds.

Xiang Chujunzi didn't know that the big star mermaid next to her, this mysterious and powerful man, was still thinking about her life and death. Xiang Chujunzi was controlled by the big family from birth to adulthood. She was trained to serve those big men. She had no ID card, no household registration, nothing, just like duckweed.

At first glance, Yunluo felt that Japanese-style temples were very plain, with grey roofs, dark, almost black supporting pillars or inlaid wooden strips, light yellow or white walls, and old-looking wooden lattice windows. Everything was plain, but plain and clean, as if it had been washed by rain countless times, leaving it spotless.

A second look reveals a regular arrangement in this plain color, expressed through lines. The lines of the roof ridges and window panes are sparse and orderly, and it is hard to tell what is special about them, but when you look up, you can feel a sense of harmonious rhythm.

The old tree and the black crow are the impressions of the third eye.

The antiquity of the temple can be judged not only from the fading murals, but also from the old trees in the courtyard. On the old trees of Nishi Honganji, there are still black crows. Although the crows' calls are not very pleasant, they match the empty courtyard very well. It's as if the crows are flying through the air, and their cries extend the loneliness of the empty courtyard to the sky.

There are no winding paths leading to secluded places, and the Zen room is full of flowers and trees. In addition to the old trees, there are some sparsely planted Japanese pines, which are green and vigorous, and have no bright and beautiful flowers and trees. There is only a pink crape myrtle tree in bloom, like a little flower child standing in front of the old monk.

It seems that Japanese temples are really places for meditation. Even the colors are monotonous, unlike the temples in Thailand and China, which first use large areas of heavy colors to give you a visual impact, and even the Buddha statues are covered with gold. The Buddha statues here are not sitting high in a conspicuous place, but hidden in the shrine. Looking in from the outside, it is not very clear in the dimness.

This reminded Yunluo of the mystery of Tibetan Buddhism, where the followers also sat on the ground, silent and quiet. There were also Hindu families in Bali, where they added a door to the statues of gods they worshipped, and only opened the door on special days of the year. It felt like Yunluo knew it in his heart, but kept it a secret.

Perhaps this is what gods and Buddhas place in our hearts, and what we worship every day are just their incarnations.

This also reminds Yunluo that Japan is an island country after all, and the culture of island countries always has its mysteries. No matter how developed the modern Japanese economy is, it still retains a kind of mysticism in the subtleties, allowing you to understand it, but it can also be plausible.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

In fact, regarding Nishi Honganji, Yunluo had no intention of sitting down and listening to the abbot in black and white shirt speaking incomprehensible scriptures to the congregation. He could not understand a single word. Yunluo did not comprehend Buddhist etiquette or morality, but only liked the beauty of the garden, starting with the trickle of the stream in front of the house. Since Xiangchu Junzi's new tongue was not yet familiar, she still spoke out of tune, so she liked to be silent.

…Yunluo followed the sound of water and came to a place where water was flowing. This was not a natural stream, but water from somewhere unknown gathered together and then dripped down from a high place. Grey tiles were placed on the ground where the water was dripping, creating the sound of raindrops, which was really a brilliant idea. Xiangchu Chunzi held Yunluo's hand beautifully, interlocking their fingers. Her hands were white and soft, as if they had no bones.

The dripping sound and the trickling water make people feel peaceful and relaxed.

Here you can find the simplicity of Han Dynasty Yuefu, the artistic conception of Tang Dynasty poetry, and the rhyme of Song Dynasty poetry. The water flow leaping onto the tiles and the liveliness of the minor tunes of the Northern and Southern Dynasties. No wonder the Japanese are very fond of Matsuo Basho's haiku, "Ancient pond, the sound of frogs jumping into the water."

The splash of water seemed to break the tranquility, but after returning to silence, the sound of water actually increased the sense of tranquility. It seems unreasonable, but it is very interesting when you think about it. Isn't this the Zen beauty of Japanese gardens? There is no ancient pond here. In front of the courtyard of Nishi Honganji, there are only old trees, crows, and blue tiles, and the sound of falling rain.

Higashiyama is a tourist attraction from Ginkakuji Temple to Kiyomizu Temple. If the western landscape is like the solemn, dignified and simple mountains in the north, the scenery of Higashiyama is like the beauty in the south, which is more gentle.

Yunluo held Xiangchu Junzi's hand and stood in front of Chion-in Temple. The sun was bright and it seemed to be a different era from the coldness of Nijo Castle. Going up the stone steps, two tourists were sitting under the gate pillars in front of the mountain gate. Standing in the shadow of the porch, the wind blew over, cool and carrying the fragrance of leaves. Unfortunately, the main hall of Chion-in Temple seemed to be under repair, so it would be nice to stroll around the courtyard.

There is a red pavilion on the left hand side of the uphill slope. This red is mixed with orange tones, which is more beautiful than red, and it is set off by white. It is unexpected to see such a girlish pavilion in the Japanese-style cold-toned courtyard.

There are many Buddhist sects. Chion-in belongs to the Pure Land sect, which believes that life is inherently painful and places hope on rebirth in the afterlife. It is the largest temple in Kyoto, with a huge bell that can only be rung by more than a dozen people. Yunluo came to see the garden, so he didn't feel sorry for not hearing the bell. As for this red pavilion, Yunluo was puzzled.

Temples in China like to paint their exterior walls in a less vivid yellow, but in Japan, black, gray, cool green, and light gold are the main colors, which reflects the quiet nature of the monks.