Chapter 161 Snow Girl: You will be the unique Qingxuande The moon tonight is not very bright, and even the moonlight that comes down is gray and a little more hazy than usual. Just like the tears flashing in Qingxuandeng's eyes at this moment, covered with a layer of mist. Buddhist girl is a slightly respectful title. The Snow Girl knows a lot about the human world and has a certain understanding of the Buddha Girl. Buddhist women generally refer to those women who seek spiritual improvement and soul purification through practicing Buddhism. They hope to achieve inner peace and wisdom by chanting Buddha's name, reciting scriptures, and doing good deeds. Buddhist women usually have compassion, endurance, and a deep understanding of Buddhist teachings. It is not wrong to call the female creature born from the lamp of light a Buddha girl. Because in Buddhism it is not popular to call people lamp gods or lamp spirits. As for those improper Buddhist women, she had no interest in knowing them.
"Sister Snow Girl, tell me, am I the great monster Qingxuandeng or the Buddha girl?" Qingxuandeng's eyes were filled with tears and flickered. "Of course you are the great monster Aoandon, this is a fact that no one can change!" The Snow Girl spoke firmly, caressing the smiling Qingxuande's cheek, and whispered: "You will become the most powerful Qingxuande in history." "Sister Snow Girl, are you serious?" "Ah." "So, in Sister Snow Girl's eyes, I am no longer a substitute for the great monster Aoandon?" Qingxuande grabbed the Snow Girl's sleeves nervously with both hands, and his voice trembled a little. It turned out that she actually understood everything, but just pretended to be stupid and didn't care about it. The Snow Girl looked at Qingxuande with a gentler look. She held her cheeks with both hands and said very seriously: "You will be the one and only Qingxuande." "Sister Snow Girl, you are so kind!" Qingxuandeng was stunned for a moment, then continued to happily nestle in the Snow Girl's arms. About half an hour later, Qingxuande's joy gradually subsided. He left the Snow Girl's arms, hugged her left arm with both hands, and rested his head on her shoulder. "Sister Snow Girl, it would be great if it could go on like this forever." "If you can endure all the loneliness, a thousand years will be like a day." Qingxuande thought for a moment and said seriously, "I will try to overcome my loneliness, and then stay here with Sister Snow Girl and never leave again." The world outside is too scary, so it’s better to stay away from it as much as possible. If she were to go out again, besides being called a Buddhist girl, she might be labeled with many other labels that she doesn't like. The Snow Girl didn't say anything, but she felt that the Qingxuande in front of her had really grown up a lot.
Her eyes moved slightly downwards. Well... she had grown up a lot in every aspect. …… "Red Dragonfly in the Sunset please tell me I met you in my childhood What day was that? Pick up the small basket and go up the mountain Mulberry trees are green and shady Pick mulberries and put them in a small basket Could it be a dream? Fifteen-year-old girl Marry far away Farewell to my hometown, I can't go back for a long time There is no news Red dragonfly in the sunset You are there Resting on the tip of the bamboo pole It’s the red dragonfly.” The forest as the sun sets is shrouded in layers of drowsy glow, making it difficult to see the trees and people in front of you. Only the sad songs pushed and surged into the woods along with the sunset glow. Pinggong Qianye originally planned to pass through the top of the mountain here, but this ballad was so catchy that he couldn't help but change his route and head towards the foot of the mountain. When we arrived at the foot of the mountain, the person who sang the ballad was a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old. He was carrying a bamboo basket and picking mulberries that were so ripe that they were almost black under a mulberry tree. This is a mulberry tree growing in the wild. Its branches grow wildly and irregularly. The heavy fruits bend its trunk, and some of them almost hang to the ground. Seeing someone coming, the boy subconsciously looked back and saw a mendicant monk wearing a conical hat and holding a Zen stick. He stood up immediately, wiped his blackened hands on his trouser legs, and then clasped his hands together in an unskilled manner, and saluted the monk who had come from afar, "Amitabha." "Amitabha." Pinggong Qianye also followed the boy's chanting and recited Amitabha. "Master looks so young!" The boy laughed, then thought it was a bit rude and quickly shut up. After thinking for a while, he took down the small bamboo basket on his back and picked out a few bunches of deep purple mulberries from it. "Master, do you want to eat mulberries?" "Thank you, little donor." Pinggong Chiye smiled, took the mulberry skewers handed to him by the boy, and started eating them in front of him. Then, meeting the boy's expectant eyes, she smiled and said, "These mulberries are very sweet and delicious." The boy breathed a sigh of relief, picked up a bunch of mulberries and started eating them. He straightened his back and proudly said, "Mulberries in this season are delicious." "Although this mulberry tree grows in the wild, I often come here to pick insects for it, and I have never sprayed pesticides on it." "Mulberries grown in other places are not as delicious as those grown on this tree." Pinggong Qianye finished eating another bunch of mulberries and nodded, saying, "It is indeed much better than the ones sold in the supermarket, and sweeter than the mulberries I picked on the road." "Yeah, I think so too."
The boy became even happier and took out several bunches of mulberries from the bamboo basket and handed them to Pinggong Qianye. Pinggong Qianye accepted all the food offered to him. The mulberries were indeed delicious, much better than the wild fruits he had eaten along the way. After she had eaten all the mulberries in the bamboo basket until only a shallow layer was left, Pinggong Qianye refused the mulberries that the boy continued to offer her. The boy was very full and burped, so he sat down on the grass. Pinggong Qianye also sat down and asked, "The ballad you just sang was very nice." "The ballad is called 'Red Dragonfly'. I sing it when I miss my sister." Pinggong Qianye had also heard this song before. It was an old song. "Red Dragonfly" is a work by the Meiji period poet Miki Rokufu, expressing the melancholy of not being able to return to one's hometown amid the wave of industrialization. Only older people can still remember such a song. "Is your sister married?" "She accidentally fell into a nearby river and drowned last winter." The boy looked depressed for a while, but soon he cheered up again. He saw the apology on Pinggong Qianye's face, waved his hand, and said in an adult manner: "It's okay, everyone will die, me too, and you too." "It's hard to imagine that such words came from your mouth." "This is what my grandfather often said. He said that people have been heading towards death since they were born, but some people walk faster, some walk slower, some like to take shortcuts, and some want to stay where they are..." The boy said a lot of life lessons that were not suitable for his age. Pinggong Qianye just listened most of the time, and would occasionally interject a few words. He does not think that such chatting is a waste of time. On the contrary, he thinks that meeting someone on the journey, chatting for a while and telling a story is a good experience. The boy stopped talking until the sun was about to set. He ate two more bunches of mulberries to replenish the water he had lost from talking. "Master, it's getting late. Would you like to come to our house and have a seat? My grandfather will definitely welcome you." "it is good." Pinggong Qianye looked up at the sky and it was time for dinner. The two picked a lot of mulberries before going down the mountain along the path. At the foot of the mountain is an almost abandoned village, with old houses dotted around on the ridges of the fields and in the shade of the trees. There was only one house with smoke rising from it, and that should be the boy's home. With the acceleration of modernization, such villages have long been abandoned, and only some elderly people are reluctant to move to big cities because they miss their childhood homes. This is a good choice. If you don't need to worry about money and don't have high material demands, this kind of place will be fertile ground for your spiritual home. A modern city is a cage that can devour all kinds of human emotions.
The country path was muddy and you could only walk along the grass on both sides, which was a bit slippery. The boy walked very fast, although he almost fell down occasionally. After entering the village, Pinggong Qianye took a few looks and estimated that these houses were more than 50 years old and were almost decayed. Generally speaking, the local government will demolish these dilapidated buildings. These buildings are still there now, and it is very likely that something has happened. Going deeper into the village, Pinggong Qianye discovered that there was no water or electricity here. Or maybe it once existed, but is now destroyed and abandoned. "It's rare for outsiders to visit our village. Master, you are the third person who has passed by here since I can remember." When they were still some distance away from the boy's home, the boy began to tell Chiya Hiramiya about the visitors who had happened to pass by there before. One of them was a hunter from a nearby village who went up the mountain to hunt. He chased the prey too deep into the woods and accidentally came to them. It was the boy who showed the hunter the way, and he was able to leave safely. The other one was also a traveling monk, wearing tattered robes and looking sad. His face was even bitterer than the lines on the bitter gourd, as if he was about to start crying in the next second. The monk stayed in the village for one night and left the village at around 6 . the next day. Just as Pinggong Qianye was about to ask about the monk, the boy stopped talking. His home has arrived. His grandfather was standing at the kitchen door, holding a wooden cooking spoon in his hand. This is a person who practices cultivation. Pinggong Qianye noticed that the old man was unusual the first time he saw him. Could it be that he is a hardworking practitioner who has gone into the mountains to practice cultivation? Yamafu? (End of this chapter)