Eternal lamps are lit up in the Faxi Temple, it is the custom during funerals.
But they would only light one for ordinary people, not like now, from the courtyard to the temple, on the floor, on the table, on the windowsill.
A single clear flame so valuable it is worth a fortune, when it appears, it only fears the cold wind’s invasion. If the master also diligently tends it, it dares to offer its utmost before the honored guest[mfn]It’s a poem. It speaks to the immense value of something small and pure, the dangers it faces, and how with careful nurturing, it can bravely offer its full potential. It could be about talent, hope, a new beginning, or even a loyal heart, something that needs protection and care to truly shine.[/mfn].
Thousands of oil lamps were lit in the Buddhist hall. In the middle was a simple coffin. Inside lay Chang Ling, who had been cleaned up. He was wearing his usual robe and sleeping quietly with his eyes closed. A white gauze with Buddhist maxims written on it covered his face.
Xu Hang placed the Buddhist scriptures he had copied and the wooden fishes he had struck inside the coffin. After taking a look at him, he burned the Heart Sutra he had copied in the brazier. He then walked around the coffin with an oil spoon, adding oil to the lamp one spoonful at a time.
Duan Yelin comforted the little novice who had cried himself in front of the coffin, and carried him back to the room to sleep. Only then did he come out to keep the lights on with Xu Hang.
The cold wind blew, and the candlelight flickered. Xu Hang stretched out his hand to block it, fearing that it would be blown out. Duan Yelin closed the window and took off his coat to put on him: “Are you cold?”
This question reminded him that, yes, it is already autumn.
Xu Hang shook his head and continued to add oil to the fire: “Do you think the road to the underworld will be cold?” He thought of Chang Ling, who died in the cold river water, and sighed, “When I was a child, I heard from the old people that water ghosts cannot be reborn and will always feel cold because their souls are buried under the water…”
Duan Yelin hugged him from behind. As expected, Xu Hang’s body felt chilly. He rubbed the back of Xu Hang’s hand, trying to warm him up: “He won’t. He is a man of merit. He will not go to the underworld but to the West Paradise.”
“The people we know have left one by one, some have died, and the rest… who are left?” Xu Hang’s eyes were a little empty. “So, in fact, I should be the one going to Yinsi Quan Road[mfn]The underworld[/mfn]. I’m very ominous.”
Duan Yelin immediately covered his mouth and said, “Don’t talk nonsense. This has nothing to do with you. If you are really unlucky, then I should be the one to get into trouble.”
Xu Hang’s eyes flickered and he put down the spoon in his hand. Duan Yelin’s words were so powerful that even he himself didn’t know that they had the effect of coming true.
“Chang Ling’s death has caused a lot of uproar, and it can’t be concealed. I think Kuromiya Keiko will come here soon. Although Chang Ling sent me the drug research, but I don’t know much about the Japanese plan yet, so I’ll ask her again.” He concealed the matter of another battle plan.
Duan Yelin looked back at Chang Ling’s body, his eyes becoming deep: “Ask? I’m afraid it would already be a blessing if she didn’t go crazy on the spot.”
Speak of Cao Cao, and he will appear.
The moment the door creaked open, all the lights flickered, and a gust of wind swept in, and not a single light was extinguished.
This was the first time that Kuromiya Keiko appeared in public in such an unpresentable manner. Her hair was messy, and her skirt was a little torn, probably because she fell while running up the mountain. She had no makeup on, her face was paler than those Japanese geishas, and her eyes were so wide that they almost popped out of their sockets.
She didn’t run in, she fell in. From her distraught look, one can tell how panicked she was.
The moment she raised her head, the lights in the room almost burned her eyes. The coffin in the middle had not been closed yet and lay open, as if waiting for people to pay their respects.
As if someone had grabbed her throat, Kuromiya Keiko was speechless for a moment. She stood there, not daring to move forward or backward, and just shook her head stupidly.
It can’t be… it can’t be him…
How can someone who believes in gods and Buddhas commit s*icide so easily?
She stared at Xu Hang and Duan Yelin beside her with wide eyes, and her voice sounded like it was dug out from the eighteenth level of hell: “Who… is it? Is there anything… that forces him to death?”
Xu Hang looked at her self-deceiving behavior, feeling unhappy: “You should understand that in this world, what else can force Chang Ling to death?”
Kuromiya Keiko paused for a moment, rushed to the coffin, and took off the white gauze covering Chang Ling’s face. She wanted to see it with her own eyes before she would believe it.
Under the white veil, Chang Ling’s face was a little swollen from being soaked in water, but his eyebrows, the corners of his eyes, the bridge of his nose, the earlobes… every part of it was him.
He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead ah.
What does this feeling feel like? Kuromiya Keiko suddenly remembered the last day when she was still called Aisin-Gioro Wenhui. On that day, she was sent to the bed of the head of the Kuromiya family and was deprived of the last dignity and innocence of a daughter of the family. She felt the same way when she lay on the tatami and looked at the withered branches and leaves outside the window.
Life is boring, like a walking corpse.
She was abandoned by the Qing court, sacrificed by her family, and controlled by the Japanese invaders. In her life, she went from glory to decline, from innocence to filth, and from happiness to depravity, all in just over twenty years.
If a person is born unfortunate, it seems that he will not collapse because of the gap. Only when he climbs high and falls hard will he be unable to recover.
She loved Chang Ling’s pure heart. No matter whether she was rich or poor, good or evil, his eyes were always clean and pure, without any contempt or desire.
Only in front of Chang Ling could she still remember how shy and lovely she was in her youth.
She would hold a teacup, smell the fragrance of freshly dried books, and beg Chang Ling, ‘Tell me another Buddhist story, alright?’
Chang Ling would always pour her a cup, hand her the book, and say with a faint smile, ‘It’s too late today. I’ll tell you another one tomorrow.’
Now that she thought about it, weren’t such peaceful days the most precious treasure in the world? It didn’t matter whether she got him or not. As long as he was there, sitting quietly, talking, and laughing, she would give up everything for it.
Perhaps Kuromiya Keiko had been frozen for too long. Seeing that she was not crying or making a fuss, Duan Yelin was a little frightened. He whispered in Xu Hang’s ear, “She… couldn’t have really gone crazy, could she?”
Xu Hang also looked at Kuromiya Keiko without blinking. He was prepared to see this woman crying and rolling on the ground, shouting and screaming, and even taking her anger out on the two of them and fighting, but now nothing happened. She was just too quiet.
Is it because the pain is too great that she won’t cry anymore?
So he didn’t dare to say anything but just shook his head slightly.
“Didn’t he leave a single word?” Kuromiya Keiko finally spoke, and after she finished speaking, she looked like a sculpture again. If Xu Hang hadn’t really heard her words, he would have thought it was an illusion coming from somewhere.
“Is it important?” Xu Hang sneered a little, “The person is dead, what can be changed by one more or one less last word? Will you feel comfortable in this way? You force him to death because you can’t get him. Why are you asking now? On the contrary, I want to ask you, what did you do to make him want to die!”
If Duan Yelin hadn’t pulled him back, Xu Hang would have been unable to resist rushing forward already.
Kuromiya Keiko still looked half dead, and after hearing Xu Hang’s words, her complexion recovered a little, and she slowly walked towards Xu Hang step by step.
Duan Yelin became nervous for a moment and stepped forward to protect and to prevent Kuromiya Keiko from doing anything to Xu Hang.
Looking at Duan Yelin’s actions, Kuromiya Keiko smiled bleakly and then said, “Since Commander Duan is here, don’t you just want to know the Japanese army’s battle plan? Yes, the time, place, method… I know everything. Now… are you willing to answer my questions?”
Although he had thought that Chang Ling’s death might change Kuromiya Keiko’s mind, but it was just unexpected for it to go so smoothly. It can be seen that she is not so loyal to the Japanese, but she has nowhere to go and relies on them.
Now that Chang Ling is dead, what else is there for her to be stubborn about?
He died for the sake of all the people in Hezhou. He was responding to Kuromiya Keiko’s threat that if the city was to be massacred, he would be the first to step into the underworld.
How could she harm the Hezhou City that Chang Ling had protected with his life? How could she dare to do that? How could she bear to do that?
Xu Hang still didn’t answer directly and asked, “What did you do to Chang Ling?”
Kuromiya Keiko turned back and leaned against the coffin. She looked at Chang Ling’s remains and smiled. She reached out and pulled a strand of hair from her head, tied it into a knot, and placed it in Chang Ling’s palm: “Nothing.”
It’s just that he was born into Buddhism, and she was born into troubled times by mistake.
Since he had to endure all the sufferings to travel west, why was she born a beauty who could toppled the cities?
For Chang Ling, admitting love is something more difficult to accept than digging out flesh and bones. For Kuromiya Keiko, his denial is also a heart-wrenching torture.
It would be redundant to say more. Xu Hang sighed deeply, walked forward, picked up Kuromiya Keiko’s wrist, and put four beads in her hand: “This is what Chang Ling was holding tightly in his right hand when he was salvaged. It took two of us to pry his hand open. It’s probably for you.”
He gave Duan Yelin a look and said, “I’ll leave this place for you. We will wait for you outside the temple. You don’t have much time either. If you stay too long, the Japanese will get suspicious.”
The door of the Buddhist hall was closed just like that.
Kuromiya Keiko leaned against the coffin and slowly opened her palm. The four beads were from Chang Ling’s broken string of Buddhist beads. Each of them had traces of being rubbed by Chang Ling. There was a word engraved on the surface of each of the four beads, as if it was newly engraved. Although not delicate enough, the handwriting was very neat.
Put together, it is a sentence—if there is an afterlife.
That’s enough said about that.
He admitted it. It’s just that he was so stubborn that he refused to betray the Buddha, so he had no choice but to take the blame.
He was afraid of the precepts and rules and was hesitating between life and death. Finally, he thought of the ties in this world and left behind a last word of tenderness. Without a Buddhist heart, how can one be born into a Buddhist world?
The lonely Faxi Temple of thousands of years burst into a burst of desperate shouting, startling the birds in the forest and mountains so much that they suddenly flapped their wings and fled, fearing that they would be swept away by the grief.
The boundless suffering and despair were like a big net, with no corner to escape, covering everything from all directions, like a mountain wind blowing roughly towards you.
No one dared to push open the door to see what was going on inside. They couldn’t bear it. Every shrill sound was torturing people’s eardrums, like sharp claws scratching, and it seemed as if the vocal cords were about to be torn.
They always feel that it is not a cry from a human, but the cry of a wild beast, so loud and so shocking.
If I wither and turn into ashes in this life, can I exchange it for being with you in the next life?
