Chapter 118: Going to the Ancient Temple with a Simple Carriage, the Morning Bell and Buddhist Sayings Purify the Heart
The morning mist hadn't yet cleared from the Fang Mansion when Ziwei, clutching a lilac cloak, chased out of the Moon Gate. Xiaoyanzi had already hopped onto the carriage parked at the alley entrance, her moon-white silk skirt sweeping across the shaft. In her hand, she clutched the peachwood wooden fish pendant. The sandalwood scent mingled with the gardenia fragrance in her hair, floating gently in the cool morning breeze.
"Be careful on the road, go early and come back early." Ziwei put the cloak on Xiaoyanzi's shoulders and touched her hot ears with her fingertips. "The abbot said that the vegetarian noodles in the temple are delicious. Please eat an extra bowl for me." The silver tassels on her temples swayed slightly as she spoke, and her eyes were full of instructions.
"I know!" Xiaoyanzi leaned over and pinched Ziwei's cheek, her two little fangs showing in her smile, "I'll bring you some osmanthus cakes from the temple when I come back. They smelled so good last time!" The coachman cracked his whip, and as the wheels of the carriage creaked, she waved at Ziwei through the window, her skirt sweeping across the carriage, bringing up a gust of wind.
As the carriage passed through Zhuque Street, morning dew dripped down the shop windows. Breakfast stalls set up steamers, and the aroma of fried dough sticks wafted through the rising white mist. The sedan chair bearers, on their way to the early shift, called out to make way, and the sound of horses' hooves clattering across the bluestone pavement was crisp and melodious. Little Swallow lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, taking in the familiar streetscape, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the wooden fish pendant. Only when the Emperor sent word, "You may enter and exit the Imperial Temple at any time," did her heart finally finally settle.
The imperial temple's vermilion lacquer gate shone warmly in the morning light, its three golden characters, "Huguo Temple," gilded by the rising sun. The gatekeeper, upon seeing the carriage, hurriedly clasped his hands in a respectful salute. His gaze rested on Xiaoyanzi with a knowing smile—Eunuch Su had come yesterday with a special message, stating that the young lady from the Fang residence was free to come and go.
"Miss Fang is here." The young monk led her inside. Dewdrops still hung on the ginkgo leaves lining the stone path, making a rustling sound when stepped on. The bell from the main hall had just struck the hour of Chen, and the lingering sound spread across the courtyard, mixing with the smoke of sandalwood from the incense burner, bringing a sense of peace to the heart.
As Xiaoyanzi turned the corner of the Sutra Library, she saw the abbot squatting under the Bodhi tree, sweeping the floor. The hem of his gray robe was stained with grass leaves. He gently waved the bamboo broom, sweeping the fallen leaves into neat piles. The morning light fell on his gray beard like a layer of broken silver.
"Grandpa Abbot!" Little Swallow jumped over, grabbed the broom and helped sweep. The hem of her skirt swept the fallen leaves on the ground, startling two gray sparrows that fluttered into the sky. "Here I come! Look how kind the Emperor is! He really lets me come and play anytime!"
The abbot stood up, looking at her wind-blown hair. He pulled a plain handkerchief from his sleeve pocket and handed it to her. "Wipe your sweat. You just ran here?" His eyes fell on the broom in her hand. The branches of the bamboo broom trembled slightly from her grip. "There are some rules for sweeping the floor. You have to go with the wind. If you rush, you won't sweep cleanly."
Little Swallow stuck out her tongue and slowly waved her broom, imitating the abbot. "You're amazing! Even sweeping the floor requires some skill." When she reached the thick shadows of the trees, she suddenly remembered something and pulled out an oil-paper package from her sleeve pocket. She offered it to him like a treasure, "This is the mung bean cake my mother made. It's sweet but not greasy. Would you like to try it?"
When the oil-paper package was opened, the fragrance of mung bean cake, mixed with sandalwood, wafted into the air. The abbot picked up a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly. The smile in his old eyes was like melting honey. "Your mother's cooking skills are still so good. Back when I was at Hanshan Temple, she gave me osmanthus cakes. It was so sweet to my heart." He paused and pointed to the bell tower not far away. "The new bell in the bell tower has just been hung. Do you want to go and ring it?"
Xiaoyanzi's eyes lit up, and she dropped her broom and ran to the bell tower. The wooden staircase creaked, and she took two steps at a time, her skirt fluttering as the wooden fish pendant in her hand gently clashed against the ground, making a crisp "tick-tick" sound. The wind on the top floor of the bell tower was strong, blowing her braids apart. She held onto the large bronze bell, its body cold and intricately engraved with scriptures, which shimmered faintly in the morning light.
"Hold the bell hammer tightly, and think of pure thoughts." The abbot walked up the stairs slowly, his voice slightly muffled by the wind. "Strike three times. One for peace, two for success, and three for clarity of mind."
Xiaoyanzi took a deep breath and grasped the jujube wood hammer with both hands. The wind lifted her skirt, and the palace walls in the distance loomed in the morning mist. The troubles of her past life and the worries of this life surged in like a tide, gently soothed by the lingering sound of the bell. She closed her eyes and slammed the hammer into the bell.
“Bang—”
The first bell rang loudly, deep and long, jingling the copper bells on the eaves and piercing the clouds. When Little Swallow opened her eyes, they were slightly red, but she smiled brightly, "This bell sounds so beautiful! Even louder than the one at Hanshan Temple!"
"When your heart is pure, the sound of the bell will naturally be beautiful." The abbot stood behind her, watching the distant skyline slowly take on the morning glow. "Girl, the roads within the palace may be difficult to navigate, but remember, when your heart is at peace, your steps will be steady. Just like this bell, no matter how high it's hung, the sound it strikes will still resonate deeply."
Little Swallow turned and hugged the abbot's arm, burying her face in his robes as she had done when she was a child at Hanshan Temple. The scent of sandalwood mixed with sunlight made her feel particularly at ease. "I'll remember this, Grandpa Abbot." When she looked up, the morning light was falling into her eyes, as bright as stars. "When I enter the palace, I'll come and ring the bell often. Please don't think I'm noisy."
"I'm waiting to hear your bell." The abbot patted the back of her hand, and the bodhi leaves rustled in the wind, as if echoing his words. In the distance, the sound of a young monk delivering breakfast reached her. The fragrance of plain noodles drifted up on the wind, mingling with the lingering sound of the bell, filling the ancient temple with a particularly warm and peaceful atmosphere.
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