In the blink of an eye, it seems we have arrived at the Dharma Decline.
No raging winds, no deafening noises, no demonic descend, only an irrevocable end to all things, with vitality withdrawing, colors fading, forms collapsing, the law... corroding.
Samantabhadra Bodhisattva's voice arose at this moment, coming from both distant realms and nearby,
"Regard all things as dreamlike illusions, like dewdrops or lightning..."
Then he raised his lowered gaze, smiling at Chen Yi:
"Venerable, while at Spirit Mountain, I've heard some stories about you..."
Chen Yi slightly raised his eyebrows, not responding, waiting for him to continue.
"I've heard, venerable, that you are especially attached to appearances, enamored by the beauty of worldly leather bags, so trapped that it's difficult to part."
These words were spoken bluntly, almost like exposing faults.
