Chapter 1454
Words:1069Update:22/09/04 21:59:13
"Okay."
Grandpa An's voice was hoarse when he said this word.
He thought that his grandson had thought it through.
Until the little figure stood outside the Bo family's courtyard and looked at the window for the entire afternoon.
Grandpa An then realized that it didn't seem to be the case.
Qin Mo held a talisman in his hand and pulled his little panda suitcase with one hand. That abstinent little face was even more indifferent than before.
After getting into the car, he said, "Grandpa, I want to go to Wutai Mountain after returning to China."
"Wutai Mountain?" Grandpa An glanced sideways. After all, his grandson had never been interested in this aspect. Buddhism?
"Mmh," Qin Mo replied and looked down at the talisman in his hand. "Wutai Mountain."
Grandpa An had never rejected his grandson's requests.
Especially at this moment.
Because when his grandson tilted his head and looked at the scenery outside the window, his head was lowered.
Three days later.
Wutai Mountain.
There weren't many people who came to worship.
Anyone who has studied the Dharma would know.
The first and fifteenth day of the first month was the day when the incense was the most popular.
But today, the seventh day.
The number seven in China had an ordinary meaning.
But on this day.
On the long stairs.
Thousands of steps.
A small figure with an indifferent side profile and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead bowed as he walked.
A total of 999 bows.
Sweat soaked his sweater.
His black hair was steaming.
But it didn't seem to affect his nobility.
Maybe it was because he was really too young.
The young novice monks saw it and watched.
There was still snow on the mountain top.
The snowflakes would only turn into water when they landed on the head.
The young novice monks saw the figure getting closer and closer. Some of them jogged into the temple.
"Master, master, there's someone outside, there's someone outside."
The old monk who was knocking on the wooden fish put down the Buddhist book and glanced up at the young novice monk. "Impatient, when does the mountain not have people coming? Where did all the Buddhist books you read go? "
"No, go out and take a look, there's a child."
The young novice monk was a child himself. How could he say that others were children?
The old monk shook his head and walked with the smell of sandalwood.
He didn't pay much attention at first.
When he saw the figure bowing with each step, he paused for a moment before chanting, "Amitabha."
The cold wind blew. Between the mountain streams, snowflakes fell on the shoulders of the figure, but the little boy's face was even more eye-catching than the mountain full of snow.
That scene was very much like Tsangyang Gyatso's poem.
He said, "That year, I kowtowed and crawled on the mountain path, not to see you, but to feel your warmth. In that life, I went around mountains, rivers, and pagodas, not to cultivate my next life, but to meet you on the way. In that instant, I ascended to become an immortal, not for longevity, but to ensure your safety and happiness. "
The old monk was waiting, waiting for that noble little figure to walk in front of him.
Qin Mo understood etiquette. Even though there was sweat on his forehead, he still bowed and greeted, "Master."
Nine hundred and ninety-nine steps of worship, no matter when it was, he had to fulfill this wish of his.
The old monk looked down, but there was helplessness in his eyes. "Young benefactor, where are you from? What do you want?"
Qin Mo pulled out a red string from his neck. There was an amulet tied to the end of the red string. "Someone asked for this for me. Master, can you give me a piece of Buddha's words?"
"Do you believe in Buddhism?" the old monk asked.
Qin Mo shook his head. "I only believe in myself."
The old monk asked again, "Then why did you come to ask for Buddha's words?"
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