Memories of past lives
After Xiao Lin finished his dinner, he and Su Manyan went out together, but one went to digest his food while the other went to the Heavenly King Hall.
He bowed before the resplendent Buddha statue, like the other kneeling pilgrims, with a devout expression. He prayed inwardly that the Buddha would not take away his good fortune. He believed his fate in a previous life was difficult, unloved by his father and unloved by his brothers. He was trapped within a palace wall, forever saturated with suspicion and guilt.
He didn't know if it was because he had committed serious sins by killing enemies on the battlefield with swords and axes in his hands, or because the obsession and hatred of those wronged souls were too heavy, so God punished him by not having a good end.
He had been praying sincerely to the Buddha to save him, but the Buddha never responded. It turned out that the Buddha had sent Ah Yan to save this unfortunate man. In other words, Ah Yan was the Buddha who was protecting him.
He was no longer obsessed with the flashing of swords and spears, no longer awakened by nightmares of rivers of blood, no longer twisted and consumed by hatred. He began to learn to recognize the beauty of this world.
Xiao Lin put his hands together and bowed respectfully: "Buddha, please don't take my Bodhisattva away. If we must separate, please protect her at all times."
After the evening class ended, Xiao Lin stood up and went back. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he saw the old monk who had been talking in a mysterious way in the afternoon. He was chatting happily with the old abbot who had received everyone earlier.
He wanted to pretend he didn't see them and walk away, but the old abbot saw him first, immediately smiled kindly, and saluted him with his palms together. Xiao Lin had no choice but to step forward and greet the two of them honestly.
"Young donor, we meet again." The strange monk saw Xiao Lin and talked about "fate" again.
"You've actually met before? Young donor, you and my two brothers are truly destined to meet." The old abbot was filled with surprise as he introduced himself again, "My name is Fahua, and this is my fellow apprentice, Faxian."
"I just met with Elder Faxian this afternoon." Xiao Lin explained in a calm tone.
"That's perfect. Master just asked me to go look for him. I'll take my leave first. Junior brother, you must treat the distinguished guest who has come from afar well." Monk Fahua said this bluntly and left without looking back, leaving Xiao Lin and Faxian staring at each other.
Xiao Lin also wanted to take his leave, but Faxian seemed to see through his thoughts. He still had a kind smile on his face and spoke slowly, "Does the donor also respect Queen Shuyi?"
As soon as he finished asking, he saw the man opposite him's eyes suddenly darken, and he took a step back to increase the distance between them.
"Young donor, don't be alarmed. I don't have the ability to read minds. My senior brother just mentioned yesterday that a pilgrim brought back memories of him and Madam Shuyi. I only guessed that it was you, donor."
Xiao Lin didn't know whether to believe it or not. He neither spoke nor left, quietly listening to the monk continue: "Young donor, good fortune is naturally present. When I say we are destined, it truly is. If you have any questions before you depart, I will certainly tell you everything I know."
"Could it be that you are also a demigod? Besides, I think you really want to tell me something. If that's the case, why do you need me to ask in person? Can't you just tell me directly?"
The monk looked calm and composed: "The secret of heaven cannot be revealed."
Xiao Lin thought to himself, he was really crazy, actually listening to this monk's nonsense. How could there be such a monk, eager to ask him about the "secrets of heaven" and not ask a penny.
He didn't believe it in his heart, but he still maintained a dignified and serious appearance. After politely bowing, he said goodbye.
By the time he returned to the guesthouse, it was already completely dark. Si Ji and the others were still sitting around the table, chatting animatedly. A few plates of fruit and pastries lay scattered on the table. Inside, the temple's special calming incense burned. The warm yellow candlelight shone through the paper lanterns, illuminating everyone, cleansing even the dampness Xiao Lin had carried on his return.
He glanced around but didn't see Su Manyan. He probably had gone to rest. In the past few days since he'd been at the temple, he'd always felt Ah Yan was listless, anxious and fearful, even crying twice. He didn't dare ask any more questions. Now that Ah Yan had regained some of his energy, he might have gone to bed early to rest. That was all good.
Yun Que was the first to notice Xiao Lin standing by the door frame. She stuffed a green grape into her mouth, stretched her neck to look behind Xiao Lin, and asked curiously, "Your Highness, where is Ah Yan? Didn't you come back together?"
These words made Xiao Lin feel as if he had fallen into an icy cave. His pupils suddenly shrank, and he felt as if all the blood in his body rushed to his head.
"What did you say!"
The courtyard was brightly lit, and monks, holding lanterns, shouted Su Manyan's name. The lanterns' halo shone dizzily on the stone pavement. The monks' shouts, carried by the night wind, drifted deep into the forest, but only the sporadic chirping of insects was heard.
Xiao Lin's fingers, gripping the lantern, turned white, their knuckles bulging from the strain. Yun Que's question still echoed in his ears. He clearly remembered telling Ah Yan before leaving, "Go home after digesting your food." How could it have turned out like this?
Xiao Lin, using his light kung fu skills, searched every corner of the courtyard. The flame of the lantern trembled slightly in the wind, illuminating the panic in his eyes. He couldn't bear to think about it. Ah Yan had been uneasy for the past few days. If something happened in this ancient temple deep in the mountains...
"Amitabha."
A hoarse Buddhist chant suddenly rang out from behind him, causing Xiao Lin to pause. He turned around and saw Elder Faxian, draped in a gray monk's robe, standing not far away, slowly turning his rosary beads. His face lacked the usual monk's anxiety, but instead held an elusive calm.
"Elder, you've come here so late at night, have you met A'yan?" Xiao Lin's voice trembled slightly. He took two steps forward, and the light from the lantern fell on Faxian's face, revealing the deep wrinkles at the corners of the old man's eyes.
Faxian raised his eyes and looked toward the bamboo forest to the west. "Don't worry, benefactor. Miss Su's life is not in danger for now." He paused, the rosary resting on his fingertips. "But the old matter that has been plaguing the girl will probably begin to resolve itself from today onwards."
"Old things? What old things?"
"Of course it's something old and dusty. My dear benefactor, the road you've taken to get here has been too long and too difficult. Buddha has mercy on me, and this is a gift for you. Please accept it."
The monk placed a bodhi seed in Xiao Lin's palm. Instantly, the dark lines that had been dormant in Xiao Lin's body, as if receiving a signal, reappeared. The piercing pain, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, relentlessly slithered through his internal organs.
Xiao Lin groaned, shaking his head vigorously, trying to stay conscious, but the pain in his chest only intensified. The bodhi seed in his palm seemed to expand continuously, becoming so heavy that he could no longer lift his right hand. He half-closed his eyes, his consciousness shaky like a candle in the wind.
Amidst the chaos, fragmented memories suddenly rushed into his mind: the soft tingling sensation of petals landing on his shoulders as his mother held his hand while they chased butterflies in the imperial gardens when he was a child; the excruciating pain of being hit by a rolling rock at the foot of a windy cliff; the harassment he endured from the concubines in the cold palace; and the small orange lantern Ah Yan handed him, the tenderness of their fingertips touching...
As soon as these images faded, another wave of crushing pain washed over him. He forced his eyes open, only to see the monk still walking slowly ahead, his rosary silently twirling between his fingers, chanting obscure Sanskrit. Every word felt like a hammer hitting his swollen head. He wanted to scream at the monk to stop, but his lips parted, only a few broken gasps escaped, not a single word. The next moment, consciousness plunged into complete darkness.
This time, the illusion was exceptionally clear, and scenes he had never experienced before were vividly unfolding before his eyes:
On a battlefield blanketed in yellow sand, he clad himself in armor, his spear in hand, knocking off an enemy general's helmet, his soldiers cheering behind him. After a celebration banquet, an imperial decree was issued, declaring he was to marry the princess sent by an enemy nation. On his wedding night, as the candles flickered, he reached up to lift the veil. Beneath the crimson silk, the face bore a striking resemblance to Ah Yan's, even the dimples in her eyes when she smiled.
They had played chess under the moon, her brows often furrowed in thought as she made her moves, her hair falling on her cheeks. They had also played music together by the window, she on the pipa, he on the flute, their voices lingering, the fragrance of the flowers filling the courtyard intoxicating. But such harmonious days were ultimately mere illusions.
The scene suddenly shifted, and the cold, damp air of the Sky Prison hit him. He was chained to the wall. His former brother stood before him, clutching a forged letter of treason, a cold smile on his lips. "Brother, this kingdom should have been mine." Then, the excruciating pain of a thousand arrows pierced his body, and he collapsed in a pool of blood. The last thing he saw was smoke rising from the direction of the palace.
And his princess, wearing the red dress she wore when they first met, drank the cup of poisoned wine, with tears still on the corners of her mouth.
It turned out that his good brother had long been secretly colluding with the enemy emperor: one used him as a tool to eliminate the thorn in his side, so as to secure his unworthy throne; the other used a marriage alliance to paralyze him, buying a false peace amid internal and external troubles. They both benefited, but he and A Yan became the most innocent souls in this conspiracy, bearing the infamy of treason even in death.
Heaven and earth are unfair! Xiao Lin screamed in the illusion. Hell was empty, but evil spirits were rampant in the human world. Why did they not distinguish between good and evil, but took the lives of good people, leaving only those treacherous people to do evil in the world?
Perhaps the Buddha heard his immense hatred and gave him a chance to be reborn.
He was once trapped in the sad memories of his past life, but the shackles between this life and his past life were eventually broken by the endless stream of Buddhist teachings, and he finally figured everything out.
After his death, his spirit could never reach the underworld, wandering like a zombie. He drifted to the palace where Su Manyan died, but alas, a raging fire engulfed it, preventing him from entering. When they "reunited," one was a disembodied ghost, while the other had already crumbled to dust, scattered by the wind, leaving no trace of his spirit.
After wandering around the charred building for an unknown amount of time, Xiao Lin became disheartened and was about to die when a small, shiny ball suddenly appeared before his eyes.
The ball could even speak. Like the temptation in Pandora's box, it asked Xiao Lin his most cherished wish: "Do you want to be reunited with your wife? Do you want revenge?"
How could Xiao Lin not want to? His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were chapped. Without the slightest hesitation, he said, "Do you have any solution? I'm willing to give everything." He was so grief-stricken that he was almost insane. Even the talking, flying ball didn't seem strange to him.
So, they made a trade: Xiao Lin would be able to live a new life, but initially he would lose his memories of his past life and be haunted by black lines. Su Manyan's soul, shattered, would first travel to another world to recuperate and return to this one when the time was right. However, Su Manyan would not return as a "princess," but would instead travel through time and space to become someone else.
Xiao Lin agreed to everything, but when he heard about Su Manyan's situation, his brows furrowed. "But what happened to my wife? Why can't she have her own body?"
"I followed the instructions of others and acted according to the agreement. There will no longer be a princess named 'Su Manyan' in this world. Your wife is fine. Someone will protect her. Don't worry."
"When you reunite with Su Manyan, if she begins to recover her memory, all your memories will be restored."
…
Xiao Lin clenched his palms, gripping the bodhi seed even tighter. The rough surface rubbed against his palms, causing a slight sting. He raised his head, his eyes clear again, but a tear slipped quietly from his eyes.
He finally remembered everything.
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