Talk about the world of mortals in detail

Wu Minggao became a frequent visitor to Xihe Village.

Compared to the time when he was always thinking about Yi Shuyuan's calligraphy, Wu Minggao today is more like an old friend. Every time he comes, it's just because he is lonely and wants to find someone to chat with.

When Yi Shuyuan goes to the county town occasionally, he will also visit the Wu family's old house.

Unconsciously, another year has passed, and winter has arrived again. Yuanjiang County is as cold as ever, and the fields in Xihe Village have been covered with snow early.

An old postman rode an old horse to Xihe Village and arrived in front of the Yi Mansion. A servant who was sunbathing at the gate of the courtyard saw the postman and immediately stood up.

"Uncle Sun, are you here to deliver a letter? Come in and have some hot tea?"

The postman huffed and puffed, and began to rummage inside Lao Ma's bag, still talking as he searched.

"No, no, I don't think I'm busy today. I have a lot of letters to send. Your eldest wife has a lot of letters!"

"Oooh!"

The servant craned his neck to look at it, and saw that the postman had pulled out a lot of letters. There was a small pile of them. He sorted them out before turning around and handing them to the servant.

"Here, don't lose it."

"Hey, Uncle Sun, let me get you two rice cakes to eat on the way."

"Uh, hurry up then!"

"Hey!"

The old postman sat on the small stool where the servant had just sat. While waiting for the printing cake, he enjoyed a moment of rest and basked in the morning sun.

Looking at the Yi family's house, although it was indeed a big family in Xihe Village, it was nothing in Yuanjiang County, let alone places like Yuezhou City.

It's just that there are a lot of letters from the eldest son of this family, and judging from the envelopes and paper, as well as the degree of wear on the letters, it seems that they are not close to each other. Many of them are official letters from home. Maybe they have many connections outside. Woolen cloth.

The Dayong Postal Station system is not accessible to ordinary people, so in theory the letters delivered by postmen are related to officials.

Of course, it is not impossible to adapt. For example, some large academies or Gongyuan can also use postal stations to send letters, mainly to facilitate students' needs such as rushing for exams, but it seems that it is not something that just ordinary people can use.

Fortunately, people are not very mobile. It is common for people who really have distant relatives to send letters to entrust acquaintances or some people with some reputation and credibility to be "letter guests". Of course, this usually requires paying money, and it is not too embarrassing.

However, these letter carriers sometimes entrust their letters to the post office clerk, and it is convenient for everyone to share a little of the cost.

"Uncle Sun, please wait a long time. Here, I got it from the kitchen. It's still hot!"

"Okay, thank you!" "Why are you so polite!"

The old official took the seal cake, smelled the fragrance, picked up a piece and took a big bite, then took the old horse and left.

The servant of the Yi family then went to Yi Shuyuan with a pile of letters, but not to the backyard of his home, but to the edge of the grain drying field.

The whole generation of great-grandchildren has now gone to the county school to study, and the two brothers Yi Shuyuan and Yi Baokang seem to have some free time.

In the sheltered area of ​​the grain drying field in Xihe Village, where the sun can reach the sun, the elderly sit in several rows. Yi Shuyuan and Yi Baokang are also among them, and they can be regarded as the two oldest elderly people in the village.

This is a common activity for the elderly in the village in winter, and sometimes Wu Minggao will join in when he comes over.

Spending time chatting, drinking tea, basking in the sun, watching the village children playing nearby, or simply taking a nap, the days are quite pleasant.

At this time, the servant came running over.

"Master, Master—there is another letter—"

Next to Yi Shuyuan, Yi Baokang shuddered and woke up from his nap. When he lowered his head, he found that he was covered with an animal skin blanket, which his brother should have brought back.

"Brother, don't cover me up. I'm not cold in this bright sun!"

"Hey, it's not cold yet. I was shivering just now!"

Yi Shuyuan smiled, and other elderly people in the village nearby also laughed.

"Baokang, don't be dissatisfied with your old age!" "Brother Baokang, you still have your brother to help you cover things, so just have fun!"

In the past two years, Yibaokang has become increasingly weak in energy and has begun to feel chilly.

While he was talking, the servant over there had already ran up to him and handed the letter to Yi Shuyuan.

"Sir, your letter!"

Yi Baokang and the old man next to him also looked over. Yi Shuyuan had received a lot of letters.

"There are more than last time, brother, who sent them all?" "Yes, I have never seen so many letters!"

"Brother Yi, do you have many friends outside?" "You don't really have children or family members outside, do you?"

Yi Shuyuan turned around and laughed.

"Go, go, talk nonsense, wait for me to take a look, maybe I can read it to you."

"Oh, that's good!" "Yes, it's good to read a letter!"

Yi Shuyuan shook his head and read each letter. The letters were only addressed to the recipient, and the sender was not mentioned in the content of the letter. But just by holding it in his hand, Yi Shuyuan already knew who it was. Who wrote the letter?

Sure enough, they are everywhere.

Perhaps because of Wu Minggao's visit, the news that Yi Shuyuan was in Yuanjiang County also spread through letters.

Many busy people are unlikely to come to Yuanjiang County, but there are more letters sent to Yi Shuyuan, including from Chu Hang, occasionally from Lin Xiu, and the most from Xiao Yuzhi.

Because of Chu Hang's friendship with Duan Silie back then, and knowing that Yi Shuyuan and Long Feiyang were close friends, he also informed Duan Silie of this matter through a letter.

After a while, Mai Lingfei naturally knew about it, and Chi Qinghu also gradually learned that there was even a letter from the monk.

The world is sometimes so strange. There are many people in the mortal world who want to know Yi Daozi's Taoist Temple but cannot. However, in the mortal world, there are many mortals who know Mr. Yi's residence.

There were more than a dozen letters handed over to Yi Shuyuan this time. Some of the envelopes were made of soft paper, while others were hard.

It's not that more than a dozen people wrote. Some people wrote more than one letter. Maybe it was because of the inconvenience of delivery on the way, so several letters finally arrived together.

When Yi Shuyuan was selecting letters, a group of old people looked at him eagerly, like children waiting to share candy.

On the other side of the haystacks at the edge of the grain drying field, village children were having snowball fights. While laughing, some children were being thrown snowballs. While they were playing with them, they looked at the old people in the village over there, but they seemed to have seen them in a trance. a group of children,

The child in the middle was the oldest. He seemed to be holding something strange in his hand, while a group of younger ones looked at it eagerly.

The child brushed the snow off his face, rubbed his eyes and looked again. It was just a group of grandparents from the village there.

Over there, Yi Shuyuan picked out a letter.

"That's it!"

The letter in Yi Shuyuan's hand has a withered yellow envelope. The paper is obviously very hard, but it is a little wrinkled. There are some dried water stains on it, and some stains that are difficult to wipe off. It has obviously gone through a lot of hardships. It just came to Yi Shuyuan's hands.

"Hiss~"

The envelope was carefully torn open, and Yi Shuyuan took out more than one piece of letter paper. The handwriting was not clear everywhere, and in some places it didn't even look like ink, but rather like charcoal.

"Brother, who wrote this?"

Yi Baokang asked, causing Yi Shuyuan, who was slightly lost in thought while looking at the letter, to stop his thoughts.

"It was written by a monk, let me tell it to you."

Just by glancing at the letter paper, without even reading through many contents on several pieces of paper, Yi Shuyuan already knew the things in the letter, even more and in more detail than what the letter stated.

"Mr. Yi, a poor monk who has been sitting in a temple for twenty years, thought he would finally become enlightened by worshiping the Buddha and chanting sutras. However, I am ashamed of what I expected from Mr. Yi, and he broke the precepts after all."

Yi Shuyuan paused for a while, and the people next to him, including Yi Baokang, saw that he had not spoken for a long time and urged him a few words.

"Brother, tell me!" "Yes, Brother Yi."

"Oh, you probably don't know that there is a Xiangshan Temple in Sanxiang County, Suzhou. It was once a Zen monastery given by the late emperor. The monk who wrote the letter was originally a monk there."

After explaining something, Yi Shuyuan continued.

Although he was old and had not spoken for a long time, when Yi Shuyuan spoke again, his voice was obviously different.

Without opening the folding fan or covering the ruler, my mind has already entered the book.

"This spring is frosty and cold. The old monk is hard to calm down. The poor monk has been sitting for a long time with dry cicadas and his heart is uneasy. The abbot has a cloud on his deathbed."

If a highly literate person like Yi Abao or Wu Ming were here, they would find that after the first paragraph, what Yi Shuyuan said was different from the content of the letter, and even said something other than the content of the letter.

But this is a very special feeling.

Yi Shuyuan's voice seemed to unfold a picture in everyone's mind, taking the old man of Xihe Village back to the past, four years back to Hongxing, and even saw Xiangshan Pagoda from a distance, where many monks were sitting in the abbot's Zen room. .

Although they were meditating, almost all the monks in the temple looked sad, except for one monk, the monk who was sitting closest to the abbot.

There was silence in the Zen room. The helpless monk looked at the old abbot who was already extremely thin and said the Buddha's name in a low voice.

"Pudu Light King Buddha, Master Abbot, what are your instructions?"

The old abbot tried his best to sit as upright as possible, and refocused his loose eyes, looking up at the monks in the Zen room, and finally at the nearest monk, Noble.

"I can't help it. I have been practicing Buddhism all my life, but I am not as good as you. Although you have become a monk in Xiangshan, I have no way to teach you. I can't see you achieve enlightenment, and I feel regretful."

"Master Abbot can allow a poor monk to practice here, and the poor monk is already satisfied!"

The old abbot smiled at this moment.

"The Buddha was merciful and allowed me to see clearly before I died. I couldn't help it, you were upset."

In the Xiangshan Zen Monastery, on the top of the Miguang Hall, wisps of Buddha's light are appearing.

In front of Miguang Hall, there was a flash of light, and monk Zhaoli appeared here. He looked at the top of the roof of the hall in surprise. How could there be Buddha light here?

In the abbot's Zen room, the old abbot looked at Monk Feng, whose expression was finally no longer calm, and sighed and clasped his hands together.

"You have been calling me master for decades. I don't want you to call me master in vain. Yan Renzi came from the north and escaped from the world without enlightenment. The turmoil has started again. The ancient well has caused waves and is helpless! The Buddha will not save you, so you go to find the Buddha. You go down the mountain. "

The helpless monk was stunned for a moment, but the master abbot in front of him had no breath.

The surrounding monks began to cry, some cried out in grief, and some recited scriptures.

The helpless monk closed his eyes and clasped his hands together.

"The abbot has realized the Dharma and passed away as he wished. How wonderful!"