From her excited eyes, I immediately understood that it was this little Lama who traveled thousands of miles to Shanghai to deliver the vajra!
Little La Ma walked towards us slowly. He had delicate features and kind eyes, and was not at all lively as a child of this age.
I couldn't help but look at the naughty little black girl.
I thought to myself, we both grew up in Tibetan areas, how could the gap be so big?
After walking in front of us, Little Lama clasped his hands to us and said in not very fluent Chinese: "Dear guests, please, the master is waiting for you."
Unexpectedly, this little Lama was proficient in Chinese at such a young age.
Little Lama told us that it was his master who taught him.
"The master of Gonggar Monastery also speaks Chinese?"
This made me curious. I thought these people had stayed in the snowy mountains all their lives and could only speak the local language.
Little Lama led us through the door and into the backyard, where a tall Bodhi tree was planted.
It was getting dark at this time, with the bright moon hanging high in the sky, and the branches of the Bodhi tree cast silhouettes in circles, like monks holding Buddhist beads and reciting sutras devoutly.
And just behind the Bodhi tree, there stood a lonely old house.
The house was very dilapidated, with even the tiles falling to the floor, which was in sharp contrast to the grandeur outside.
The so-called guru doesn't live in a place like this, does he?
When we were looking at each other, Xiao Lama had already told us that we had arrived.
I originally thought that the outside was in a state of disrepair, but I didn't expect that the scene inside the house would make even mice cry when they saw it.
Not to mention valuable items, there are not even tables and chairs for normal guests.
More importantly, several holes were cut out in the west wall, as big as a human head, and the cold wind rushed in, making us shiver with cold.
Luo Tuo first asked: "Little Master, are you kidding us? In such a beautiful temple, the leader of the temple lives in a place like this? It's so shabby, and there's no paper to cover the hole." "
"Do you think we didn't pay for the incense? Find Miss Xue, we poor men have cleaner pockets than their faces."
Lao Jiang was afraid that the camel had violated a taboo, so he quickly stepped on him and scolded: "What do you know?"
The camel looked unhappy: "Whether I understand it or not, there is indeed a hole in the wall."
Lao Jiang pulled the corner of the camel's clothes and explained in a low voice: "This is him practicing asceticism! If I guessed correctly, it should be this guru who just talked to us with the help of the Vulture King."
As he spoke, Lao Jiang's eyes cast into the distance.
The room was very dark, with no light except for the oil lamp carried by the little lama.
But when our sight gradually adjusted, we discovered that there was a huge painting hanging at the end of the room!
What is painted on the thangka is a huge lion with a snow-white mane. The lion wears a skull crown on its head, has red lotuses on its feet, has sharp claws, and has a wide mouth, as if it wants to devour us in one bite.
This should be the Snow Mountain White Lion King!
Hidden in the darkness is a monk wearing a white snowfield Tibetan robe. At this time, he is sitting cross-legged, with his back to us from beginning to end under the portrait of the Lion King.
Don't know what you are doing?
After entering Gonggar Temple, all the monks I saw were wearing red clothes, but he was wearing white clothes.
And all we are left with is a back and no appearance.
Could he be the mysterious guru?
Little La Ma held an oil lamp and led us slowly over.
When you walk up to the monk in white, you salute respectfully to indicate that he has arrived.
The monk in white didn't speak. He was still holding the beads in his hands and reciting something.
Xue Jingxiang couldn't wait any longer and took the initiative to speak: "Are you the master of Gonggar Temple? We have finished watching the sky burial ceremony. Now you can treat my grandfather."
The monk in white still didn't speak.
After a long time, when he finally finished reading the scriptures, a cold voice broke the silence: "Do you know why I made an exception and let you watch a sky burial ceremony?"
How do we know this?
But listening to the voice, he is 100%25 the one who transmitted the secret message to us through the Vulture King.
The expert Mou Xiangyi is very wise. He sincerely expressed that he didn’t know and asked the guru for advice!
This master spoke the Chinese dialect very fluently and with a clear accent. It didn't look like he had learned it at all.
The monk in white told us: "Because some of you committed an unforgivable sin when you went up the mountain. Although my back is to you, I can clearly see what each of your hearts looks like... "
"There are black hearts, red hearts, and evil hearts with evil intentions!"
"The reason why I let you watch the sky burial ceremony and see the corpse being eaten by vultures at close range is to tell you that the king's power and wealth ebb and flow, but it is all in vain. In the end, not even a piece of skin and flesh will be left."
"This is the true meaning of life, and this is the true meaning of death."
The voice of the monk in white was distant and experienced, as if he had experienced the changes in the world and had seen the impermanence of the world.
There was no sadness or joy in his voice, only endless desolation.
But his words are too profound, and we don't have time to play guessing games with him here.
Xue Jingxiang once again took out the Vajra, held it up with both hands and handed it over respectfully: "Thank you, Master, for traveling thousands of miles and sending someone to rescue my grandfather. Now that I have seen the Master, it should be returned to its original owner." ”
The monk in white still didn't turn around.
Instead, Xiao La Ma acts as the middleman and delivers it on his behalf.
At this time, the master still had his back to us. He stretched out one hand, took the vajra, and placed it next to his legs.
However, the moment he stretched out his hand, a thunderbolt flashed through my mind, and half of my body was numbed by electricity!
His eyes were fixed on the scene where he stretched out his hand.
Not to mention me, even the always calm Lao Jiang’s expression changed drastically.
The entire team took a few steps back in unison. Jian Shou couldn't believe his eyes, because the master's outstretched right hand only had the fingers of Xigen left.
However, Xigan's fingers are white and long, exactly the same as Cao Wuzhi who disappeared thirty years ago according to the information we have.
Mr. Xue once said that Cao Wuzhi's fingers are different from ordinary people and can break bricks and split stones.
When he was covering the retreat of others in the Snowy Mountains, Cao's five fingers were cut off alone. Finally, one of his fingers was cut off by an unknown monster, and he rolled down the mountain without any trace of his body...
From then on, he disappeared from this world.
"Who are you?"
Xue Jingxiang opened her mouth, but did not continue.
In the end, Mr. Xue supported his body and raised his head from Ming'er's back: "You...are you the benefactor back then?"
(End of Part 1)
At this point, the first part of this book is about to come to an end!
Let’s test everyone, what did you write in the first part?
The Curse of Lei Town, the Qilin Organization, the tomb robbing world, and the story of a passionate young man establishing his faith.
And the treasures hidden in Yinxu, Dunhuang, and Sanxingdui also surfaced one by one with his birth.
Gongga Snow Mountain is a watershed that not only separates the first part from the second part.
It will also make Li Jinglan transform from an ignorant boy into a Qilin with both wisdom and courage!
So what will be written in the second part? Too much.
Guess who is Li Jinglan’s mysterious past life? Where do circles come from? Is this the person who released the curse of Lei Town?
Three-eyed Li Jinglan, Jedi Tiantong, the second tiger cannibal...
And among the time points, the most tragic and tearful part of the book is the relocation of cultural relics from the Forbidden City to the south.
Everyone is a chess piece, and in the crisscross world, there is only the bloody truth.
Okay, no more spoilers, the second part is also being written, so you can find it yourself, I believe you are very smart.
The original idea for this book came from a trip to the Mogao Grottoes in Dunhuang. The staff kept telling me the story of Mr. Chang Shuhong and the story of the monk Lezun, and took me to visit all the places that could be opened at that time. All Buddhist caves.
Looking at her tearful eyes, I know that every Dunhuang person has the word "protection" engraved in their hearts.
I also told her that I understood how to write this story.
This story has nothing to do with whether it can please the market or whether it can sell well, but to let more people know that in that era, there was really a group of people who fought hard to protect China's treasures.
Later, while visiting the National Museum of China, I met a foreign young man. He liked the exquisite bronze wares very much. He even exclaimed in surprise when he saw the introduction of the women.
At this time, I understood that the most direct way for foreigners to understand five thousand years of culture is through the national treasures.
After all, our English translations are all porcelain.
After that, the film and television rights of "National Treasure" were successfully sold at a very high price, and then the publication title was passed. The film and television party gave: National Treasure, ten thousand years-in- Hua's evaluation, the publisher also gave affirmation of the cultural confidence output.
I laughed. They didn’t know that the original origin of this story was not Yinxu, but Dunhuang.
They are the young people who have returned from the ocean and are determined to protect the Mogao Grottoes.
This secret can be kept hidden for a long time.
It's like a very literary reader's comment: The melodious sound of Paris at night in France is far less desolate than the iron horse and wind chimes of Mogao Grottoes.
Okay, meet you in part two.
