The road up the mountain is different, it's a narrow path. I have a vague sense that this place looks familiar. Upon a moment's reflection, it seems that every time I've walked on the mountain before, it was this path, not the main road.
The Gold Grip Lama did it intentionally, in line with the meaning of Ah Gong Lama, telling me that the usual path I used has already been under their notice?
There were no unexpected events during the climb. The Gold Grip Lama kept leading me to the temple outside of which I had seen the thirteenth Zen Rinpoche, and only then did he stop.
The red temple walls exuded a sweetness, a milk fragrance, and an indescribable enchanting aroma. I hadn't paid much attention to it before, but upon sniffing it now, how could it be so similar to the Black City Temple?
"Master Luo, please." The Gold Grip Lama and the other lamas surrounded me, closing off all my paths, so I could only proceed to this temple.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped in.
Thick scrolls of scriptures hung down, and it seemed as if I could hear a continuous drone of recited prayers in my ears.
The recited prayer sounds were only in my ears, yet it felt as if they were coming from all directions. As they grew louder and more distinct, it was as if they were colliding with each other, resounding loudly in my mind!
In the end, they congealed into words.
"Om!"
"Ah!"
"Moo!"
I stood still, my body trembling slightly.
Close your eyes, concentrate, empty your thoughts, focus on your eyes, nose, mouth, and heart. Observe the mind. Be free and self-mastereing.
The first sound I heard was the gentle stream flow.
The insights of the female First Ancestor, I truly have exhausted.
Before heading down the mountain, I went to that stream. I also completed a state of concentration myself and gained some understanding of myself. Previously, I couldn't understand it. I felt that the form of water wasn't just non-contention and non-action; there were tremendous waves in my chest.
Using water to metaphorically represent human character, people should be the same as well.
The sound of the stream beside my ear grew louder, and I heard the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, and the rustling of waves being swept by the wind.
Although the overlapping Buddhist sounds are still very loud, the sound of the stream has formed a final defense line, preventing my consciousness from being pierced.
After a long time, the Buddhist sounds faded away. I opened my eyes, feeling much more composed. I took a step forward.
I have been to this temple more than once, but for some reason, no matter how I walk this time, I can't reach the central point, the place where the Thirteenth Zen Rinpoche had entered mahasamadhi. Naturally, I can't see either Ah Gong Lama or the other six living Buddhas.
I heard the sound once again in my ear, which was very strange. It was the screams and cries of humans, the panting and sobbing of humans, people of all ages, both young and old, all present.
Unlike the pure interference of Buddhist sounds, these sounds were too mixed, causing continuous irritation in my heart.
The irritation grew stronger, and to my surprise, some images began to appear in my mind, representing all the experiences I've had over the years.
Bitterness, suffering, struggle, rising to counterattack...
Also joy, warmth, harmony and ease...
These emotions and irritation are intertwined together, making it even more painful, like being stirred into a martial world!
At this moment, there was a resounding crash that seemed to be struck on the head by an invisible hammer, clearing my mind.
The past experiences were knocked apart.
The uncontrollable irritation in my chest was also dispelled.
The whole person was empty, but with a bit more tranquility and harmony.
I stood there, motionless, in a daze.
The Buddhist sounds echoed once again in my ear, and the recitation sounds became very clear.
The thumping sound was particularly dense, as if knocking on wood.
This sound scattered my just-concentrated consciousness once more.
Instinctively, I want to stick to my heart.
But there was an inexplicable relaxation, as if giving up would be just fine.
So many chaotic matters, what's the point of thinking about them? It won't do anything good.
The more dense the thumping sound, the more it seems to disperse all worldly bitterness.
The scrolls in front of me still haven't changed, but in my eyes, they seem to have a layout. I heard a voice in my ear, shouting, "Come..."
Inexplicably, I followed the voice and walked forward.
"Come..."
The voice grew louder, as if it were about to override everything! It seemed, this voice was the dharma sound that I should listen to!
The scrolls in front of me seemed to be receding to the sides, as if offering me a clear path!
Blood fills my mouth.
I bit my tongue hard, letting the blood overflow.
But I don't feel any pain!
The blood is seeping out of the corner of my mouth, flowing downward.
My body is uncontrollably moving forward, and the voice is even louder, as if it's about to shatter my consciousness and rebuild it!
I tried my best to resist, unable to stop my steps. However, my lips moved slightly and a weak voice emerged: "Dan Zhu Zheng Lun Qing Jing She, Ling Bao Tian Zun Qiu Huai She, Tai Guang Shuang Ling Yin Qing Jin She, Peng Xu Peng Qiao Peng Zhi Bu De Li Wu Shen She, Taishang San Tian Wu Zi Rong Xian She."
"I wash my body with the sun, refine my form with the moon, and am protected by the true man and assisted by the celestial maiden. The Twenty-Eight Constellations follow me in order. Ten thousand evils and impurities are driven away with the breath, quickly as the law commands!"
One incantation allowed me to become somewhat clearer for a moment.
The incantation was chanted over ten times in a short period of time!
Finally, I stopped my own steps.
No, it's not that I stopped my steps, but that I stopped my movements!
I had already stopped walking. The position where I was standing was the place where the Thirteenth Zen Rinpoche had entered mahasamadhi.
My action was to sit down, and there was a cushion under me.
The cushion under me was the one that the Thirteenth Zen Rinpoche had sat on, and later Ah Gong Lama had also sat on it once.
But there was a pointed stake in the center of the cushion, with two thicknesses and spiral patterns.
The stake pointed upwards, and sitting down would pierce my body directly!
Invisible forces!
Ah Gong Lama intends to kill!
Staring hard at the stake, I stepped back half a step again, cold sweat pouring out, covering my entire body, even soaking my back clothes.
From the faint footsteps, several people walked out from behind the scrolls.
There were six people in total, but their appearances were extremely unfamiliar.
By their age, the oldest must be over a hundred years old, with wrinkled skin and a faint glimmer of oil that resembles glaze.
The youngest one must be in their sixties or seventies, with smiling eyes that convey a sense of tranquility.
Each of them had distinctive features, with black or yellow skin, long eyebrows that hung over their cheekbones, or round earlobes that were larger than normal.
Six living Buddhas... Where is Ah Gong Lama?
My first thought was, are there really seven living Buddhas? Ah Gong Lama has added another person.
I soon realized that Ah Gong Lama had reincarnated several times to escape the vultures in the sky, so he could no longer be the same child from before.
"Master, you have the Buddha mind, the Buddha nature, and the thought of realization. Why did you suddenly stop sitting here and entering mahasamadhi?" The oldest monk, with an appearance of great devotion, asked me.
My eyelids keep jumping, and goosebumps keep rising on my skin. The feeling of fear is very strong.
"Old club, are your eyes blind? Such a big stick, let you sit, you happy or not?" Lao Gong emerged from my shoulder.
He shivered and cursed, "What kind of tricks are these? Black City Temple uses the Concubine to manipulate people's hearts. Why do you people have to provoke and forcefully eliminate their thoughts? Damn it, killing is still killing. Why do you call it sitting cross-legged? I vomit."
Lao Gong really heaved and vomited a large pool of filth.
The six old monks, without exception, all furrowed their brows.
