"Master, please drink some water to moisten yourself up. It's the hottest autumn weather." Kong Wenmin hurriedly took out a water bag from his waist and handed it over.
Zhong Mingwei drank the water in one gulp and handed the water bag back to Kong Wenmin.
"Master, I know you are devout, but, this mountain road is muddy and rugged. How about we take another route?" Kong Wenmin looked at Zhong Mingwei's sweaty face and muddy body, and was really worried and reluctant, "Master, this road is too difficult to walk on."
"Is it difficult?" Zhong Mingwei pursed his lips and said. He reached out and put the stone pendant that had slipped out of his collar back. Then he looked down at the way he came and muttered, "It's not that I haven't walked the most difficult road before."
Kong Wenmin was startled and didn't understand. He asked in a low voice, "Master, what do you mean?"
Zhong Mingwei shook his head and said nothing more. Then he turned around and continued to kneel down on the mountain. Kong Wenmin hurriedly followed him.
Yes, even the most difficult road has been walked before.
He had not thought about how he, a paralytic, had carried the unconscious girl down the mountain that winter. But every time he thought about it, he could not help but feel a palpitation of fear. That road was really difficult to walk on. It was clearly dawn, but there was no light at all. The pitch-black darkness was filled with the smell of ice, snow, blood, and even death. He crawled on the bumpy and rugged road, pushing the door panel forward with difficulty. His cotton coat had long been worn out, and his knees, hands and feet were bleeding from the cold, hard and uneven ground. Gradually, he could no longer feel the pain. She was numb from the cold, and even the blood could not flow out. However, the girl who was tied to the door panel by him did not make a sound from beginning to end, and could not even cry out in pain. He had never been so scared, nor so helpless and desperate. The 33-year-old man stood in the cold wind, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from crying out loud, and calling out in a hoarse voice to the girl who refused to pay attention to him...
That is truly the most difficult path to take, and also truly the darkest path.
Fortunately, it finally came to an end. Fortunately, he and his girl finally walked hand in hand onto a golden road filled with sunshine.
…
After entering the temple, Zhong Mingwei burned incense to the Goddess of Childbirth, and then, under the guidance of the little monk, went to the backyard to wash and change clothes.
"It's been a long time since I've seen someone as pious as you," the young monk said. He was only about sixteen or seventeen years old, very lively, and never stopped talking. "It rained last night, and the mountain road must have been muddy and difficult to walk on. I didn't expect you to kneel all the way up the mountain. Your sincerity will surely move the Goddess of Childbirth, and she will surely bless you and your child."
"Thank you, little master," Zhong Mingwei said to the little monk with his hands clasped together. He glanced at a nun in the meditation room opposite, kneeling in front of a Buddha statue and chanting with her eyes closed. Zhong Mingwei suddenly stopped and spoke again with a trembling voice, "She... why is she here?"
"Ah? Who are you talking about?" The young monk was startled, followed Zhong Mingwei's gaze, and then introduced, "That is Master Jinghui from Mount Wutai. It seems that a woman in her family is about to give birth, so she came all the way from Mount Wutai to our Miaofeng Mountain to pray for her family. She is very pious. Except for eating and resting, she has been chanting scriptures every day."
"When did she come?" Zhong Mingwei looked at Jinghui, who was reverently chanting scriptures, from afar with a complicated expression. Jinghui had shaved her head, and her appearance and temperament were very different from before. Her face had obviously aged, with fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and her skin was no longer as delicate and fair as before. She looked like she was ten years older than Zhong Mingwei, but she had a demeanor that was not seen before. Wearing a string of Buddhist beads, a cup of fragrant tea, and a gray robe, Jinghui, without the blessing of brocade clothes and pearls, was so calm and elegant.
"Oh, she has been here for almost two months, right?" The little monk frowned and thought for a moment, then hurriedly said, "She said she would chant sutras and pray for her family for 49 days. Today happens to be the last day, so she has been here for 49 days, and she will leave tomorrow."
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