A wisp of breeze, a cloud, a meter of sunlight on such a cool Qinru heart, wash away the dust floating in the world, fall all the noise of the world. Outside the mountain forest, some people were busy with food and clothing, some people were busy chasing fame and fortune, and some people were busy filling their greed. No one would notice that in that quiet mountain forest, there was a handsome youth who was as pure as water and not stained with dust.
Shi Jianwu, a descendant of a declining big family, lived in poverty since childhood in Wuyun Mountain Monk Temple. He grew up gradually in the simplicity of Qingdeng Ancient Temple, the leisure of loose chess pieces, the beauty of still water flowing deep, and the smile of Buddha picking flowers. It can be said that he never experienced the kinship and warmth of Chenghuan's knees for a day. This is his good fortune and misfortune.
All said that the world is colorful, but look at Shi Jianwu's eyes, but it is so simple, as if the mountains and rivers are his beauty, the sun and moon are his confidants, that full pool of pure lotus, as his glass-like clear heart. Natural jade needs time to carve, Jinse life, it needs Zen mind nourishment. Life can be very simple, empty mountains birds sing xi, heart and white clouds habitat; the world can be very clear, wind blowing mountains xi, moon shining flower shadow shift. He is predestined to Buddha, even his name, are hidden in the world without Zen.
Young Shi Jianwu did not have the stubbornness and perversity of his peers. A person, a book, a cup of tea, a lotus flower, can make him comfortable and forget the opportunity. Only those who are pure in heart can understand the purity of the world. In his spare time, he often came to the east side of the mountain, because it was quiet and secluded, and it was a perfect place to relax.
There is a pavilion on the mountain, named Yuyun Pavilion, where you can bathe in the breeze, watch the clouds rise, sleep on the pillow stone, and drink in the shade of flowers. There is a pond near the pavilion, called the inkstone pool, where Shi Jianwu must go to study every day. What wins in the pond is the net lotus planted by him himself. It is beautiful but not beautiful. The red lotus in the field is faintly discernible. It is delicate and pitiful. The lingering fragrance is drunk with joy and sadness. Even if it is a passer-by in a hurry, only a glance is enough to touch the heartstrings that have already been covered with dust.
Winter heat, things turn stars shift, a few years passed in the blink of an eye, once listening to the flowers bloom with the moon has quietly entered the blooming season, I do not know why, when Shi Jianwu came to this quiet and secluded place, a heart has been unable to ripple, he no longer holds the scroll low chant, also do not want to be like other masters, all day sitting upright on the futon, plain hands burning incense, in the Sanskrit Sutra to understand Buddhism, love does not know where, deep and deep, do not know when, he has fallen in love with the cloud without roots, Anything, love the water calmly floating, vast cool.
Everyone is a mustard seed in the mortal world. It is too difficult to achieve the five elements are empty and the six roots are pure. Therefore, on a simple afternoon, Shi Jianwu finally left Wuyun Mountain with two sleeves and a clean breeze. He bid farewell to the grass and trees there. Perhaps he would return. Perhaps this departure would be a farewell. It wasn't that he couldn't resist the temptation of worldly fireworks, but that nature's charm that reached his heart made him unable to refuse. He wanted to travel all over the world, visit famous mountains and rivers, visit ancient trees and stone forests, go to that wider world and understand the true meaning of life.
During this period, he visited many places, understood many unique local customs, and left many cool poems, which were widely circulated among the people. Even Bai Juyi would sigh at his excellent works. Such talent, this can be cast into a dignitary's door, seek fame, and natural indifferent he, but in a small reputation, chose to retire, chose to white clouds stream, sunset haze, comprehend the mystery of nature. This time, he didn't go back. Instead, he chose a more secluded place, the Western Hills of Hongzhou.
There was a fascinating legend circulating there. There were twelve masters who once cultivated in seclusion here to understand the truth. Finally, their merits were perfected and they ascended to immortality. The mountain is not high, there is a fairy name, no matter whether this legend is true or not, it adds a lot of mysterious color to the West Mountain of Hongzhou. In addition, there are spring blossoms, autumn orchids covered with frost, pine trees and empty valleys, and rosy clouds dyeing the forest, which make Shi Jianwu admire endlessly and can't bear to leave. He said that if he taught Xishan to achieve enlightenment, Lian Yu would be thirteen people. If he could, he would be willing to find happiness in the West Mountain, convert to his true self, and become the thirteenth person to comprehend the Great Dao.
If leaving Wuyun Mountain was Shi Jianwu's impulse when he was young, then converting to Xishan was his mature deliberation. Since he had chosen this place, he would not leave easily. In the following time, he closed his door to cultivate himself, did not communicate with human affairs, cultivated his nature in Yunlin Creek, comprehended all things created, converted to Taoism, sought immortals and realized truth. The people called him the Holy Spirit. Later, he had some enlightenment in health preservation, qi practice, form and spirit, nature and life, etc., and wrote more classic works such as Taibai Sutra, Secret of Huayang Immortal, and Health Differentiation Formula.
However, in the first year of Yongzhen of Emperor Shunzong of Tang Dynasty (805), the original peace of Xishan was broken by the arrival of a person. Many years ago, Shi Jianwu had made a good friend named Ling Zhun during his hiking trip. They shared similar interests and regarded each other as confidants. Unexpectedly, Ling Zhun's nephew traveled thousands of miles to Shi Jianwu's quiet bamboo house and told him about the great changes that had taken place in the Tang Dynasty in recent years. Now that crafty sycophants were in power, loyal officials could only be attacked and persecuted crazily. Even his uncle was not spared. After hearing this, Shi Jianwu could not help but clap his hands and stand up. He wanted Nangong Zhegui to obtain the ladder and eliminate evil for the country!
So he left the Western Hills for the first time and headed straight for the tumultuous chaos. Through the scientific examination, he was hand-picked as the number one scholar with his amazing talent. However, the cliques in the court and the unhealthy wind of mutual harm made him feel ill and helpless. Many sleepless nights, he would think of the quiet of the cold branches of the West Mountain and the leisure of the mountains and rivers. I don't know when he left his soul in the West Mountain. From then on, it was difficult to give up. Therefore, he had not been in the world for more than a year, and he was no longer willing to mix in. After shaking off his dust, he quietly returned to the pure land that was haunted by his soul.
He said to himself,"Although I am lucky to be famous, I know that my life is thin, so I live in a mysterious place in my heart and cultivate my nature in the forest." He said that although he had some attainments in poetry and articles, fortunately he was appreciated by the imperial court, he knew that his life was thin and did not want to negotiate with the officialdom. He also did not seek fame. For the rest of his life, he only wanted to hide his name in the West Mountain, live in the mysterious gate, cultivate his nature in the forest valley, and hand over the complex strings to the clear sound of silk bamboo, and exchange a jade pot ice heart with ordinary fireworks.
Since then, he has always regarded Xishan as his own return, as the habitat of the soul, even if he gave up that hot bright future, he never regretted it. After walking through famous mountains and rivers, visiting all over the world, I know where is the hometown of the soul. However, the dust of the secular world is always bound to wander the fate of the world, many disturbances, and who can enjoy peace forever, in the chaos in the quiet mind, in the prosperity of the true purity?
He thought that the rest of his life could be spent safely like the wind, cool and watery, and perceive the true meaning of life in all things in nature. However, with the gradual loss of control of the political situation, the continuous wars in the Yellow River Basin, the increasing taxation of the imperial court, the wars in the southeast, there was no pure land in the world. Perhaps, as a cultivator, Shi Jianwu could live a peaceful life in a deserted corner of the West Mountain. However, the blood flowing through his body reminded him that he was the heir of the Shi family and the backbone of the entire family. In this chaotic world where the river was declining day by day and war was everywhere, how could he live alone?
The greatest irony in the world is that it has a heart of indifference that transcends the world, and a benevolent nature that saves the world. Finally, at the end of his life, he still resolutely shouldered the burden of the whole family, endured the pain that ordinary people could not understand, left the West Mountain, and stepped into the turbulent smoke of this world. No one knew that before he left, he had built a fake grave for himself because he knew very well that since he had taken this step, it would be difficult to turn back. Even so, after death, he would return to his soul and renew the great ambition of cultivation that he had not fulfilled in his previous life.
Over the mountains, through the plains of Ishikawa, away from the chaos, there is no noise. Finally, Shi Jianwu led his clansmen to a secluded paradise where there were abundant plants, sunset clouds, clear sky, bright moon, dark fragrance, and cool breeze. It was like a painting of a lady outlined in a blank embryo. Just a glance was enough to make people fall. However, in Shi Jianwu's eyes, there was less elegance and spirituality. No one would pay attention to his smiling eyes. What flowed was deep sorrow. His empty heart would never leave any defects. Perhaps only a single tree in the West Mountain could understand.
Text: Laughing Red Dust
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