Chapter 10 Monk Piao'er

I was fascinated by obsolete old books such as "Xianchun", "Chunyou Lin'an Chronicles", "Menglianglu", "Southern Song Dynasty Monuments", and so on. At that time, I only memorized a few books every day. Pencil, half a catty of bread, interviewed and searched in Fenghuang Mountain, Yunju Mountain, Wansongling, and Jianggan in Hangzhou, trying to make a relatively complete picture of the Southern Song Dynasty, so as to entertain me when I was sick and bored idle years.Sometimes, because of some strange words in these old books, I actually went to the four villages, stayed, and went to Yuhang and other places to check.

In this prosperous age of China in the twentieth century, when everyone is busy fighting for power and profit, cannibalism, why am I the only one who is so free at that time?There was a ridiculous reason for this, too.After the success of the revolution in 1927, the Kuomintang and the Communist Party separated. As a result, among the yellow Chinese who were originally the same as everyone else, they were forced to be painted with many colors, and among these different colors, the most unfavorable one , but it is called red, or red.Therefore, those who are close to Zhu are all rebels, and those who are not white will naturally become rebellious. No matter what kind of hardworking common people you are, just add your unwarranted three-character crime, and you can be reduced to ten. Seven or eight families are far away.The source of the leisurely happiness that I was forced to enjoy at that time was here. The reason was that the magazine of a literary group I joined often discussed state affairs and slandered the court.

After the ban, for a few months, I was in Shanghai under the rule of foreigners, pretending to be a rich bourgeoisie.But because I was accidentally attacked by a really strange and unbelievable attack, I felt that the protection of the foreign adults was a bit unreliable, so I turned a somersault and fled to the beautiful city of Hangzhou. I just flipped through some old books and old books every day, pretending to be a 100% feudal adherent with both assets and leisure.Reminiscing about the Forbidden City in the Southern Song Dynasty seemed to be a serious crime that could lead to death in the Yuan Dynasty, but on the day when the revolution succeeded, it could be regarded as a magic spell to avoid suspicion.So I visited the ancients and explored the secluded places at that time, and I wanted to make a relatively complete picture of the Southern Song Dynasty. Most of the side effects can also be said to be caused by the Camouflage.

One sunny and windy autumn afternoon, I was fooling around in Jianggan just like the previous few days.After drinking a pot of tea in the teahouse in Linjiang, I opened the books I brought with me and read them. I knew that the Shanchuan Altar was just around the corner. If I went back up, I would find the Fantian Temple and Shengguo Temple in the southern axillary of Fenghuang Mountain. .After paying the tea money and asking the people in the teahouse the way, I walked northeast from Tiancheng Road, southwest of Baguatian.The weather on this day couldn't be better. It was already after the Double Ninth Festival of the lunar calendar, but walking under the sun with the sun behind my back, I felt that even a thin velvet robe was too hot.I walked back and forth on Tianchengye Road for a long time, and then went to the lower part of the hillside to rest, and looked east and south for a long time, but I couldn't point out the site of the so-called Shanchuan Altar.Just like a greedy old man who couldn't bear to leave after seeing the money, I wandered back and forth among the barren fields and vines, and found Jiang Wan before I resolutely gave up and walked up to the Brahma Pagoda courtyard.But when I arrived at the gate of Deshan Temple, I was about to go in and see the golden eel well and the relic Buddha body in the temple, but the gate of this remote ancient temple was already tightly closed, so I had no choice but to rub the door in front of the gate. Stone pagoda, repeatedly walked up the hill.I was on the way to the middle of the eastern mountain dock when I happened to meet some farmers who were carrying firewood.I turned sideways to make way, and at the same time asked them, "Where is Shengguo Temple? Is it far from here?" A middle-aged farmer in his fifties who was walking at the end listened to my question. , but rested the firewood and instructed me:

"Here, the place where the stone walls are lined up on the mountain is better than the temple! There is only a little way to go up. Did you go to see Monk Piao'er?" After I vaguely agreed, I asked him back: "What kind of person is Monk Piao'er?" "Speaking of Monk Piao'er, he is a resident of these four mountains, and no one is unaware of it. He has been here for several years to meditate. He comes here in a friendly manner. He only reads scriptures and recites Buddha all day long. Seeing us When people go, they always give tea and water, smile at us, and only say a few words of condolences to us, and don't say anything else. Because he often carries two big wooden ladles to the mountain to fetch water, and because his chin There is a deep knife scar in the middle, and when he laughs, he always looks the same as selling a ladle—this is a Hangzhou saying, when a child’s mouth is about to cry, it’s called selling a ladle—the same appearance , so everyone naturally called him Monk Piao'er."

As he said that, the old farmer also laughed.I thanked him for his kindness in explaining to me, said "sit and talk" with him, followed the mountain road, and walked north up the mountain. At this time, the sun has been covered by the branch of Phoenix Mountain on the left, and the valley is only filled with the depression of the sunset.The mountain grass is almost withered, and it looks like only a layer of yellow and brown.The leaves of the few trees scattered along the road have also fallen to just the right shape.There is a small village in the middle of the valley, which is just three or five families with bamboo fence huts, and the firewood gate has been closed long ago, and from the small curved smoke protrusions, wisps of not lively smoke are exhaled from time to time.The peach grove behind this small village is of course just bare and dry bushes.Along the side of the mountain road, down the valley, there used to be a stream there, but this is just a name. Since the rainy time in the third spring, there has never been a stream of Canglang until then. However, most of the moss on the rocks in the stream has been browned by the sun.It seems that there is still a little bit of life, because there is a blue sunset behind the mountain, the sun seems to have not completely set, and the sky is close to the ground, but there is still a faint red glow.When I walked down the slope of the ruins of Shengguo Temple, I couldn't even see the blush around the sky. The only things scattered around me were some monk towers, relics, vegetable gardens, bamboo gardens, Narrow roads and hillsides with many highs and lows.I walked up the slope, and among the rocks and dead trees, I finally saw three or four dilapidated nunneries.On the west side of the mountain, facing east, there is a row of three-room huts, which are a bit tidy, but the two gates of the temple have been closed, and the inside is dark and silent, without even a little light. No one could be seen.Walking another thirty or fifty steps toward the east edge of the mountain, there is a thatched hut under the row of screen-like stone walls. The door faces south and faces the big river outside the valley.

I walked to the door of the hut, looked inside, and felt that the light inside was still very bright, almost no different from that outside.Just as I was thinking about it strangely, I took a closer look inside, only to realize that the light came from the eaves at the back, because the wall behind the hut had collapsed.In the middle is a Buddha seat facing the sky, to the west is a broken bed, and to the east there is a small door against the mud wall, which leads to a small room outside the east wall.Not far from the small door, at a table and a half against the wall, there was a monk sitting with his back to the door, reading scriptures there.

I went to the door of his hut and stood there. The monk knew about the fact that I was looking inside, but not only did he not turn his head to look at me, he didn't even move his body.I stood still and watched him for a while, but I felt a little scared, so I coughed dryly, trying to let him know that someone was outside the door.Hearing my coughing, he finally turned his head slowly, first with a smile on his face like weeping, just like a smile on his face, and then suddenly startled, Zhang After staring at him for a minute, his expression returned to normal. He smiled and only nodded to me, then turned around immediately to read his scriptures.

Since I had already heard what the woodman said about the strange behavior of the monk Piao'er at the foot of the mountain, I didn't think it was strange at this time, but there was only one thing that made me involuntarily aroused curiosity. thoughts.According to what the middle-aged old farmer said, he is usually very kind to passers-by. Whenever he wants to serve tea and water, why is he so rude when he sees me alone today?Is it because I am a wealthy intellectual in a robe, so he is deliberately showing disdain and dealing with it?Or was it because the scripture he was reading was so interesting that it occupied his entire energy?Judging from his frustrated state of not knowing that someone was outside the door, the second guess is more accurate. He must have put all his energy into the scripture he was reading.That being the case, I don't want to go there lightly, but I want to see clearly what kind of scriptures can make him so fascinated.After I made up my mind in this way, I didn't care about other people's willingness or not. I raised my feet, walked in the door, and walked up to him. He still lay motionless and fell on his head Read scriptures.I looked through the pages of the scriptures spread out on the table, and I knew it was the Shurangama Yishu.The Shurangama is a treasured book of the Mahayana, and it was really not easy for the monk Piaoer to delay reading this book, so the second curiosity came after the first curiosity, and I really want to talk to him , to ask him for advice.

"Master, may I ask where the residence is?" I opened my mouth and asked him that.He only raised his head halfway from the scriptures, and with his eyes closed again, he gave me a look of astonishment, then smiled again, and replied softly as if he was fleeing: "A monk has no origin." When I got here, I became horrified, so horrified that I couldn't even continue the conversation below.Because after hiding the deep knife scar on his chin, the upper half of his face, and his Hunan accent, which is very light but full of breath, told me like a thunderbolt. Who is the predecessor of Monk Piao'er, Qin Guozhu, my rival in love when I was studying abroad?I froze, wide-eyed, and held my breath, staring at him for several minutes.Of course he also knew that I had seen through him, so he calmly smiled and stood up from the chair.While stretching out a hand to me, he said calmly:

"Old friend, should you know me now? When you walked up the mountain, I caught a glimpse of you from afar, and I was wondering. It wasn't until you coughed outside the door that I realized that it was indeed you." , but it’s hard to open your mouth, because I don’t know if your feelings for me, after more than ten years, can you still recover?..." After hearing what he said, seeing his air of becoming a mountain monk, and remembering the title of Monk Piao'er that the woodcutter told me just now, after being horrified, I took As soon as he relaxed his concentration and relaxed his nerves, he just felt a very funny impulse rushing to his heart.So I squeezed his hand, and only yelled "Qin Guozhu! Qin... Guo... Zhu" a few times, and then burst into tears from laughter, unable to say a single interesting word for a long time. I laughed for a while, he stood smiling for a while, and then the two of them put their hands aside and returned to their usual state.After I regained my composure, my old impatience reappeared.He asked him many questions one after another like a shooting star: "Where is Jiang Guiying? When did you come here? How many years have you been a monk? I heard that you are a brigade commander. Why don't you quit?" As for the class, I hurriedly said a lot without waiting for his answer.He just smiled and calmly asked me to sit down, and then said slowly: "Let me tell you these things slowly, you sit down, let's make some tea first." He slowly walked up to a stove in the west corner. In the middle of folding firewood and starting a fire, I became impatient again, so I stood up from the bench and chased after him.He squatted down and was concentrating on lighting the stove. I stood behind him and asked him questions that he hadn't answered me for a moment before. "What happened to our beautiful woman from the same town, Jiang Guiying?" The first time I asked, I stubbornly asked again about the troublesome apple that we were fighting for at that time. Although Jiang Guiying was from my hometown, at that time she was only associated with overseas students from other provinces. Therefore, some of our classmates once gave her a public warning, saying that her conduct was bad, and if she continued to behave like this , we will jointly report to the government and cancel her official fee.This warning is, of course, a transformation of jealousy instigated by me, and the people who signed this warning are of course a few young widowers who want to have a taste of this forbidden area just like me.And to everyone's surprise, not many days after the warning was issued, she got engaged to our friend Qin Guozhu who was going to graduate from the Military Academy next semester.After receiving this news, I was frustrated and depressed, just like the hero Dugenev wrote in a diary of a surplus person, who was absent from school for several weeks.Later, after returning to China, whenever I saw Qin Guozhu's military exploits in the newspapers, such as the nine-year fight against Anfu, the eleven-year fight against Fengtian, and the fourteen-year battle of Tingsi Bridge, etc., I was still secretly thinking about the news. hate.But the monk Piao'er, who was successful in love, just turned his back to me, and answered me comfortably with a smile: "Is it a beautiful woman? Is that a beautiful woman from your hometown? Already...has belonged to Shazali....Haha...ha... Why do you still ask about these things that are so far away? Do you still want to come here? Will you avenge me for three generations?" It sounded like he was talking about a third party that had nothing to do with him.I asked back and forth for a long time, but I finally couldn't find any clues about Jiang Guiying, so I had no choice but to advance to the next few questions. While fanning the stove with a cattail fan, he slowly The answer I said: "It's been several years since I came to Hangzhou... Becoming a monk started after the battle in the fourteenth year... Being a brigade commander really doesn't give you the freedom of being a monk..." After he boiled a pot of water and hesitantly answered some of my questions vaguely, the broken hut completely became the world of night.However, from the half-opened door, the window without a window, and the cracks and gaps in the mud wall, a lot of moonlight like water shot in one by one, illuminating this dilapidated house crystal clear. Like dreaming in a dream. After walking back to the east wall, after brewing two bowls of very clear and strong tea, he walked in through the small door, took a rest, and took another pot of small tea from the small room. The white and glutinous cake came out.He gave me a few pieces, and he took a piece himself, chewed and said to me: "This is my own dry food made with arrowroot powder. You can try it. How does it compare to butter biscuits?" I put a piece in my mouth, chewed a few times, and smelled a benzoin-like fragrance in my nose.After taking another sip of tea and swallowing the cake powder, the scent in his mouth is still overflowing there. "This fragrance is really good, what is it in it? It will smell so clear and last for a long time." I asked him while drinking tea. "It's a kind of ivy, which grows at the foot of Mount Heng. There are many in our country. Every summer, I always ask someone to bring a batch to dry and store it here. I will use it slowly. If you want, I can give it to you. a little." The two ate for a while, talked for a while, and I got up to leave, so he walked into the small room again, took a bag of dried ivy powder in one hand, and came out with a few white papers in the other. .Wrap books, pencils and so on for me, first wrap a bag, then put the bag of dry powder on it, and tie it with a rope to make a bundle. I walked out to the door of his thatched hut, and stood still, facing south, looking at the lights on the river bank, the Qiantang River under the moonlight, and the mountain shadows of Xixing. He told me softly: "The scenery of this place is really good. I think there is absolutely no one in the panorama of the West Lake that can match this place. It's a pity that I have lived here not long ago. They seem to be collecting donations outside to rebuild the Shengguo Temple. Either tomorrow, or The day after tomorrow, I will be expelled down the mountain by them, maybe. After all, we will never have the chance to see the moon here again. You can go to see more tonight." As he spoke, he laughed loudly, and I answered him with a smile: "This is finally a 'West Lake Story', isn't it? I'm not Song Zhiwen, but you really look like King Luo Bin!...Haha...haha" December 1932 Originally published in the first issue of "New China" on January 10, 1933 (Note 1) [Sha Zhali] "Ciyuan": During Tang Suzong's time, Han Yimei Ji Liu's family was robbed by the Tibetan general Sha Zali, and later got the help of Yuhou Xu Jun, and reunited with Liu.For the story, see "Taiping Guangji" in the 485th Tang Dynasty Xu Yaozuo's "Liu's Biography", Meng [ ]'s "Intelligent Poetry Emotion".Later generations used Shazhali to refer to the dignitaries who robbed wives.Song Wang Shen (Jinqing)'s singer was captured by a powerful family. Wang wrote a poem saying: "The beautiful woman belongs to Sha Zhali, and the righteous man has no ancient Yaya." This allusion is used.See Song Xu [ ] Yan Zhou Poems. (Note 2) [West Lake Tales] refers to "West Lake Tales Lingyin Poetry", the story of Song Zhiwen meeting King Luo Bin after he became a monk in Lingyin Temple. (Note 3) "Yu Dafu's Anthology Tenth Volume Poems", "Two Poems to Send Ruopiao Monk": Leaving sorrow and sorrow, walking to the end of the world, I heard that Nantai stopped the car again.After the chaos, if Feng Ying laughs, the whole settling is messy. Do not repent and smear the tail, thousands of grievances and grievances are in love at this moment.How can Nian Jiashan be broken? Fuzhou, October 12, 1938