Incense
The days after resigning from the law firm felt like a stagnant pond drained of its life force, stagnant and suffocating. Lin Xiaoning locked herself away in her 80-square-meter apartment, day after day. During the day, her parents would take Lele to the community garden to bask in the sun, deliberately leaving her alone. She would either sit by the window for long hours, watching the hurried passers-by below, feeling like a lonely soul abandoned by the world; or she would mechanically scroll through her phone, a flood of recruitment apps and startup information flooding in, yet they seemed blurred and distant, as if through frosted glass, unable to stir the slightest emotion. Her six months at the law firm, like the exhaustion and chill left after a high fever, had left her with an almost physiological aversion to any situation requiring her to interact with others or "demonstrate her value." She seemed to see that behind every seemingly glamorous job posting lay another "director" who demanded her smile, or even more.
She increased her antidepressant dosage, but the effect seemed to be diminishing. In the stillness of the night, the dark desire to end everything, like the hand of a water ghost, repeatedly tried to drag her into the abyss. She could only hold Lele, who slept soundly beside her, tightly. The child's warm body temperature and steady breathing were the last thin thread holding her together.
Just when she felt she was about to be completely swallowed by this silent quagmire, a long-awaited phone call, like a stone dropped into stagnant water, stirred up a few ripples. It was Sister Wang.
"Oh my little Ning! You finally answered the phone!" Sister Wang's signature loud voice exploded from the receiver, carrying a long-lost, lively air. "Your phone keeps getting disconnected, and you don't reply to my WeChat messages. It drives me crazy! I thought you... Oh, I'm glad you're okay, I'm glad you're okay!"
Lin Xiaoning gripped the phone, her lips moving, but no sound came out, her throat feeling clogged. She'd once considered Sister Wang's gossip and nagging noise, but now, her voice felt like a lifeline connecting her to the outside world, to a sense of "normal" life, a strange, poignant intimacy she felt.
"I'm telling you, evil will be punished, and good will be rewarded. It's not that there's no retribution, it's just that the time hasn't come yet!" Sister Wang eagerly began sharing the latest "battle reports" from her intelligence database, her tone filled with the excitement of witnessing history. "Xu Wu! That bastard! He got beaten up in there! I heard he was severely beaten and is in the hospital! It's really retribution! God, please help me!"
Lin Xiaoning's heart sank. Xu Wu... the man who had once lifted her up, and then pushed her into the abyss. Hearing of his fate, she felt no joy, only a sense of desolation, a sense of change and the cycle of cause and effect.
"There's something even worse!" Sister Wang lowered her voice, as if afraid to be overheard. "Zhao Qing! That cunning financial director and the old official behind her are both in trouble! I heard the matter was huge, involving financial problems, lifestyle... everything is ruined! Zhao Qing was sentenced to three years! Tsk tsk, she used to be so powerful, but now... humph!"
"And Liu Feng, that ever-so-busy CEO, you know him, right? Once the company collapsed, all those connections he'd built up through PR were useless. I heard he was in debt and had to sell his house and car to pay off his debts. Now... hey, someone saw him at the building materials market in the south of the city, actually carrying bricks! He looked so dusty and dirty, nothing like his old self!"
Sister Wang's words hammered at Lin Xiaoning's heart like a series of rapid drumbeats. Xu Wu's embarrassment, Zhao Qing's imprisonment, Liu Feng's fall from grace... These figures, once crucial figures in her life, symbols of power and desire, had now fallen in various ways. Their endings, like shattered mirrors, reflected the absurdity and impermanence of her own fate. She felt no schadenfreude, but rather a sense of desolation, a sense of grief for the fallen. We were all merely guests at this wild feast, and when it was over, the mess was in ruins, and no one escaped the reckoning.
"Oh, right," Sister Wang paused, her tone becoming a little complicated. "And then there's Wu Jiaming, President Wu. He's quite resilient, bringing a bunch of old friends to take over the old factory and set up some kind of employee-owned company. But, sentimentality can't make a living! I heard the business is terrible now, the equipment is outdated, and they can't get good orders. They haven't been able to pay salaries for months... Oh, it's really tough."
Wu Jiaming... the tragic hero who attempted to rebuild his ideal nation from the ruins. Hearing of his struggling gait, Lin Xiaoning felt a complex surge of sympathy, admiration, and a sigh of helplessness. In this realistic world, upholding ideals often means enduring even greater hardships.
Sister Wang rambled on for a long time, and finally, as if remembering something, her tone became cautious: "Xiao Ning, you...how are you doing now? You have to think more positively, there's nothing you can't overcome! Look at those people, they were so glorious back then, but now they're all...Alas, it's good to be alive, it's good to be alive!"
After hanging up the phone, the room fell silent again. The news Sister Wang had brought was like a gust of wind, scattering Lin Xiaoning's already chaotic thoughts. The fate of those people seemed to show her that all pursuits and reliance on external things ultimately lead to disillusionment. Xu Wu's power, Zhao Qing's shrewdness, Liu Feng's scheming, even Wu Jiaming's ideals... none of them seemed reliable.
What about herself? Where was her path? The law firm was a dead end, the workplace filled with unbearable repercussions and prejudicial gazes. Starting a business? She saw no path that would allow her to find a stable home. Home, her last refuge, was also in jeopardy due to financial hardship and emotional depression. Wang Shumin grew increasingly silent, and going home felt more like staying in a hotel. Her parents' eyes were filled with worry, yet they could do nothing.
Despair enveloped her like a thick fog. She recalled reading about the "Eight Sufferings" and the "Four Noble Truths" she'd experienced in her past. She didn't understand those profound Buddhist principles, but she had truly tasted the feeling of suffering. Perhaps, this world of desire and struggle was itself a sea of suffering? Could the place beyond this sea of suffering be the "Pure Land" often spoken of by Buddhists? There, there were no grudges, no deceptions, no past and present that had caused her so much pain. Perhaps, only that absolute emptiness could cleanse her from the mud and bring her true peace?
This thought, like a faint firefly in the darkness, pointed in a direction. She remembered a small temple on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't very popular, but the environment was tranquil. She wanted to visit. Not to convert, not to become a monk, but simply... to find a place to retreat, to catch her breath. Perhaps the morning bells and evening drums, the curling incense smoke, could temporarily isolate her from the chaos of the outside world and bring her a little illusory comfort.
She didn't tell her family her true purpose, saying only that she wanted to relax. After a long, bumpy bus ride to the outskirts of the city, she followed a secluded path up the mountainside, and sure enough, the small temple appeared before her. With its blue bricks and gray tiles and towering ancient trees, it truly felt like a tranquil retreat from the hustle and bustle of the world. The air was filled with the distinct scent of incense and candles, and the occasional distant chime of bells drifted by.
She entered the main hall. The Buddha statue stood majestically, its brows lowered, its eyes gazing compassionately upon all living beings. Several pilgrims were kneeling in devout worship. She followed their example, lighting a stick of incense and inserting it into the incense burner. Curls of smoke rose, bringing a soothing aroma. She knelt on the cushion, closed her eyes, and tried to empty herself, burying her exhaustion, grievances, confusion, and guilt in the ethereal clouds. In that moment, she truly felt a fleeting, illusory sense of peace.
After wandering around the temple, she encountered a seemingly kind, middle-aged monk. Hesitantly, she approached and asked if the temple needed volunteers or if there were any spiritually peaceful courses. She even summoned the courage to subtly mention her willingness to donate some of her savings to support the temple's development, pray for her family, and seek peace of mind.
The monk was initially kind and patient in answering questions. But when Lin Xiaoning pulled out the bank card from her bag, which contained the money she had saved for six months and intended for emergencies, and named a sum that was not insignificant for such a small temple, she clearly saw a subtle glint in the monk's eyes, and the smile on his face instantly became warmer and more earnest.
"Lady donor, your merits are truly immeasurable! The Buddha will surely bless you and your family with peace and prosperity!" The monk eagerly led her to the formalities, his tone a stark contrast to his previous indifference. That eagerness, that emphasis on the "incense money," instantly shattered the illusory tranquility that had just risen in Lin Xiaoning's heart.
The formalities were handled quickly, and the monk's smile was almost overflowing, repeating various auspicious words. However, Lin Xiaoning felt a sense of emptiness inside. She walked out of the side hall where the temple offices were located and returned to the sunlight, but it felt even colder than when she came.
She sat for a long time under an ancient tree in the temple, until the sun set. The pilgrims gradually dispersed, and the temple returned to true silence. She heard two young novices chatting quietly nearby, their words faintly drifting on the wind.
"...Have you heard? The famous abbot of Shaolin Temple, the one who often preaches on TV, has collapsed!"
"Huh? Is this true? What's going on?"
"Hey, what else could it be? He appears to be a righteous person on the surface, but behind the scenes... I heard he's having affairs with several female lay Buddhists, and he's also involved in huge financial matters. The temple's accounts are a mess... and now they're all under investigation!"
"Oh my god... this... how are we going to explain this to the pilgrims in the future?"
"Alas, these days, where is there any pure land..."
The young monk's conversation was the final straw, crushing Lin Xiaoning's last remaining illusions about Buddhism. Could even this seemingly transcendental place, a place of guidance, be tainted with the same desires, calculations, and injustice? Was the so-called Pure Land, the so-called Buddhist sect, merely another vanity fair disguised as a sacred place? Could this place truly save her? Could it cleanse her of her past?
She looked at the now-light donation receipt in her hand, feeling a profound irony. She had traded her meager savings for what? Not peace of mind, not Buddhist guidance, but another naked bargain and a deeper sense of disillusionment.
As night fell, she, exhausted and exhausted, boarded the return bus. The city lights shone brightly outside the window, but they couldn't illuminate the darkness within her. Far from being her salvation, her trip to the temple had only pushed her deeper into despair. If even this last refuge was illusory, then where else in this vast world could she find refuge? She felt like a rootless duckweed, floating in a turbulent sea of suffering, unable to find even a straw to cling to. How much longer could the young sprout from the root of the cabbage hold out in this bone-chilling night? She didn't know the answer, only that the road ahead was pitch black, with not even a glimmer of light to be seen.
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