The monks of Shaolin Temple, upon hearing about the Pure Land of the Bodhisattva, chose to join one after another, and with these exceptionally high-quality superior affinity beads filling it, the Pure Land Pearl also grew rapidly.
This matter was a secret within Shaolin; apart from a few trusted devotees and Laymen, the monks did not publicize it at all. They were like a group of people eating meat in the dark, trying to swallow even their chewing sounds.
Therefore, the only ones who obtained that epiphyllum were the hundreds of monks of Shaolin, eight Laymen responsible for external affairs, and Xu Ranxue.
Time quickly came to April, and Simon's avatar had become a strong young man, finally no longer staying at Yi Gu Manor.
The manor now had nearly a hundred children, including many from wealthy merchants and powerful families, but most were still abandoned infants. They all felt a sense of dependence on this Bodhisattva Lu Yuan, and now that he was leaving, they were all very reluctant to part.
Xu Ranxue was also exceptionally sad. Sun Lichai had left, the girl who would read by his side, and Simon, this Bodhisattva who always sat on the couch, was also moving to the temple.
The wing room left behind a sufficiently impressive memory, and now, without them, it felt like it had lost its soul.
Fortunately, everyone could still meet in the Pure Land at night; otherwise, once some people left, they would never be seen again.
The scholar stood under the eaves, reciting poetry with a mournful sound, while Simon, inside the room, for the last time, lifted the children's chins.
Watching their chubby faces being puckered into bun shapes by him was truly amusing.
He walked out, and the children burst into tears, with the nannies busily trying to comfort them.
Children always think that crying can bring a turning point to their helpless situations, but not all things can gain sympathy through weakness.
For Simon, he would always watch these children grow. If their lives could be healthy and peaceful, and their humanity strong and upright, then their gathering would not have been in vain.
The Buddha's disciple moving into Shaolin Temple was a matter of moderate importance. All the monks came to welcome him, and if Simon had not explicitly stated that he would not accept kowtows, these Bald Donkeys would surely be prostrating on the ground right now.
The monks prepared excellent wing rooms for the Bodhisattva to reside in, but Simon chose to settle in a small house next to the Scripture Reading Pavilion.
The Scripture Reading Pavilion was a small building for copying and studying scriptures; all believers could enter and exit freely and borrow scriptures. Most who came here were monks and lay Buddhists, while ordinary pilgrims generally did not stay in the Scripture Reading Pavilion.
Simon also favored this place for its quietness and library-like atmosphere.
The wooden building was quite old; after being weathered by rain and wind, the surface varnish was mottled. Walking inside, under the faint sandalwood scent emanating from the incense burner, one could still smell a base note of decay, a mixture of wood, books, and dust.
In the early morning, faint sunlight from the overcast sky filtered through the caisson ceiling into the room, still sparse and dim. Dust danced in the light beams, and the rows of bookshelves and small tables were mostly hidden in the darkness.
Simon pulled out a copy of the "Dirgha Agama" from a bookshelf, then found a desk with relatively ample light, and sat down, pulling the chair with both hands.
At this time, apart from a few on-duty monks, there were no other idle people to disturb, making it almost the quietest moment of the day.
In this pin-drop silence, the melodious birdsong from outside became clearer, along with the whooshing sound of the breeze moving through the woods and under the eaves, the gentle ringing of wind chimes, and the clattering of the hanging plaques under the eaves. April, with its Qingming and Guyu festivals, was a time of burgeoning life, and Simon, sitting indoors, still felt a heartfelt vitality.
He read until the hour of Si (9-11 AM), when more and more idle people started to appear. Although they were all very quiet, they would intentionally or unintentionally gather around Simon, all wanting to catch a glimpse of the Bodhisattva Lu Yuan's wondrous appearance. They were like ancient fans, deeply attracted by Simon's every gesture and movement, to the point of being unable to look away, completely engrossed.
There was an old saying about Wei Jie being 'looked to death'; being stared at is always unpleasant. Although Simon only regarded these people as a gentle breeze and bright moon, they disrupted the leisurely atmosphere he cherished. There was no need to stay there anymore, so he stood up and walked out of the Scripture Reading Pavilion.
The crowd reluctantly followed him for a while, until several martial monks, who had been enduring for a long time, came forward to intercept them.
"Benefactors, this is a pure land of Buddhism; please mind your words and actions!"
Their expressions were like brave fans defending the reputation of their idol.
Simon paid no attention to what was happening behind him. He held the book in his hands, reading as he walked, and unknowingly, he exited the temple gate.
Several monks quietly followed behind him.
Simon's steps were unhurried, yet he walked everywhere as if on flat ground, sometimes high, sometimes low, making the monks who followed him suffer immensely. After walking like this for half an hour, when Simon came back to his senses, he was already standing on the summit of Lian Tian Peak.
Standing here and looking down at the four wilds, Simon also felt a slight emotion. He had erected Mount Sumeru in the Pure Land Pearl, partly because he personally liked mountains, and also with the idea of tempering his mind with the Pure Land illusion. Now, looking at the undulating earth, he couldn't help but feel a majestic spirit, as if he wanted to encompass all the mountains and rivers of this vast land within his chest.
As his thought arose, the divine will of Mount Sumeru was unconsciously stimulated, projecting into his spiritual platform. This feeling was so strong that it even caused him to hallucinate; what he saw before him was no longer the beautiful Mount Song, but the golden, radiant, majestic Mount Sumeru.
The mountain was silent, and in this silence lay immeasurable heroism, a grand ambition that connected heaven and earth.
Simon's entire body's primordial internal energy was captivated by this divine will, transforming into a small Mount Sumeru in his dantian. This was the Core of his essence, indestructible. With this mountain suppressing his internal energy, his cultivation would almost never dissipate in the future, only accumulating more and more strength.
Simon still held the scripture in his left hand, so he gently raised his right palm, very slowly, as if lifting a heavy object.
A terrifying force field spread from him. Within a three-zhang radius, everything, air, sand, and stones, fell into stillness, as if violently fixed.
His right palm moved from his lower abdomen, all the way to between his eyebrows. For every inch his hand rose, the force field around him intensified by a point.
The mountain wind continuously brought airflow into this force field, but it could only enter, not exit. The air inside became denser and denser, even beginning to distort, and the misty water vapor formed a thick fog.
Simon held his breath and concentrated, pushing this palm towards the sky.
The invisible force field collapsed.
A fierce storm erupted on the spot.
Several monks had just climbed to the summit of Lian Tian Peak and, seeing the Buddha's disciple looking up at the sky through the mist, unconsciously followed suit.
Nothing happened.
After a long while, a giant palm suddenly appeared in the layered clouds in the sky. The air waves cleared, and for a moment, the dark clouds dispersed, and warm, bright sunlight illuminated the earth. Simon stood in this beautiful spring light, his antlers glowing brilliantly above his head.
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