The Buddha said that people should abandon all desires.
Only in this way can our spiritual practice achieve something.
A solitary lamp and an ancient Buddha.
Deep in the mountains and distant forests.
I sit in the dilapidated temple, day after day, striking the wooden fish.
The noise outside is irrelevant to me.
Those devout men and women who come to seek Buddha's help are tainted with the scent of the secular world, but when I look at them, I feel like an observer traveling through the human realm.
I thought I would always be free of distractions and follow the Buddha.
Until one day, the master brought back a junior disciple.
"This is your senior brother," the master said to his junior brother.
He wouldn't bark, staring at us with wary eyes, like a wolf cub that had always been a victim of slaughter.
It was completely out of place in our overgrown, bland temple.
The master sighed, "This little kid has had a tough time, you should be more lenient with him."
I will certainly give in to him.
For a long time, however, he refused to talk to anyone and just huddled alone in a corner of the temple, gnawing on a cold, hard steamed bun.
Sometimes I would go over and tell him that the steamed buns were cold, and ask him to go to the small kitchen to heat them up.
He simply turned away silently, without uttering a word.
When devout men and women occasionally come to burn incense, he always avoids them.
This went on for almost a year.
Winter came, and he carried his bundle, saying he was going down the mountain.
My master couldn't keep people around, but he was also worried about this little kid, so he asked me to stay with him.
The master said that the little boy had no bad intentions. He had something he needed to do after going down the mountain, and he would come back.
That day
The mountains were covered in snow.
With one step, the snow reached up to my knees.
Although his master always called his junior brother "little kid," at thirteen years old, he was already taller than some adults.
He came out of the mountains during the Lunar New Year to pay respects at people's graves.
His entire family died on this winter night, on a festive New Year's Eve.
He witnessed it all firsthand.
No wonder his master said it wasn't easy for him.
“Senior brother, tell me, if a person’s heart is full of hatred, how can he possibly abandon all desires as the Buddha taught?”
This was the first time he called me "senior brother".
"Hatred can be gradually dissolved over time."
My junior brother knelt before the grave, turned around, and looked at me.
"Buddha saves all sentient beings." I patted his head: "Go back, your master is waiting for you."
No wonder Master was so sure he would go back.
He has no home anymore.
The temple was his home.
Even if it is overgrown with weeds, dilapidated and far from the hustle and bustle of the world.
But this is also his home on earth.
Life is boring.
Every day, we eat congee and steamed buns, along with wild vegetables picked from the mountains.
However, it was also quite pleasant.
The junior disciple gradually learned to meditate, and seemed to gradually let go of his hatred, taking on the appearance of a monk.
The three of us, master and disciples, are like a family.
Seeing my junior brother becoming more and more cheerful, I gradually became happy for him as well.
"Senior brother, I plan to spend the Spring Festival with you all on the mountain this year," the junior brother said, leaning closer with anticipation on his face.
"When Master returns from begging for alms, we'll cook a whole pot of porridge, prepare lots and lots of pickled vegetables, and hang red lanterns at the temple gate..." The junior brother said, his eyes narrowing as he smiled.
Happiness can sometimes be that simple.
People who really want to live together are passing the limited time they have.
But Master never came back.
He died.
They also died on the same day of the Lunar New Year.
The message was brought over by a devout woman who frequently visited the temple to burn incense; she hid it in her dog's collar.
It is said that he died a terrible death.
That day
The Buddhist prayer beads I always wore around my neck inexplicably shattered into pieces.
My junior brother was stroking the dog's head, and I could clearly see it.
His smile gradually faded.
A tear slid down the corner of her eye.
He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face: "Senior brother, you're wrong. Buddha doesn't save people. Buddha only says that all beings suffer."
Since then,
For several years, I never saw my junior brother again.
All I know is that on New Year's Eve, the person who killed my master was wiped out along with his entire family.
Those who murdered his junior brother's entire family also died suddenly in the mansion a few days later.
I sat alone in the temple, gazing at the Buddha.
But I feel that Buddha is no longer the same as before.
The words my junior brother said before he left kept echoing in my ears.
"Buddha does not save people; Buddha only says that all beings suffer."
The Buddha before me is still the same Buddha, smiling.
Can Buddha truly see the suffering of humankind?
I closed the courtyard gate.
They packed up the few belongings they had left at the temple.
We descended the mountain.
I don't know where to go.
But I think I will never become a Buddha in this lifetime, so I might as well not practice.
If anyone asks, I will say that I am looking for someone, someone who is very important to me.
But only I know.
This vast land, this bustling world, I know not where the road ahead leads.
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