Ancient Temple-Zhuang Jie Pharaoh Temple in Xiyuan

Ancient Temple-Zhuang Jie Pharaoh Temple in Xiyuan

? Text/Jia Pei

I first became attached to the temple in the fourth year after my father died. I went to the Chongyuan Temple beside Yangcheng Lake to attend the Tomb-Sweeping Day, and set a memorial tablet for my father, hoping that Amitabha would lead him to Elysium. In April, Sioux City was warm and cold, and Bai Fan in Chongyuan Temple was extremely cool, which made my eyes moist again and again. After the Dharma meeting, a mage walked past me in a sea blue, as calm as a crane in the vast desert. Since then, I have believed countless times that the world is really clean and beautiful. Autumn is the best season in Sioux City, like singing orioles; Like a deep-flowing tea girl; Qiu is a Taoist as clever as Fang Fang, who knows the mystery of the rotation of the four seasons and tells the true feelings of the world. Under the centuries-old ginkgo tree in twos and threes, the monks who walked leisurely lit the lamp leading to bliss in this sad world.

There is a poem in The Night Rain of Narcissus: Ye Qiu, a little banana, a little sorrow. In autumn, the blue sky and white clouds are fluttering in Wan Li. The big and yellow walls of the old temple in Zhuangjiefa are speckled with sunlight, and every arch and cornice are painted with eternal traces. Light and shadow flow, apricot leaves are leisurely, as peaceful and joyful as a preacher, spreading love and hope to the poor who are frustrated in life.

As an ancient temple near Fengqiao, Hanshan Temple is more hidden. For example, the royal princess, who is not competitive and anxious, is loved by thousands of people. I prefer traveling alone in such a quiet place. Through the bustling streets and crowds, you will see the wisdom of the double bridge firmly standing on the Tang River; A blessing; Like an emissary who took me into the cool place of Buddha, solemn and sacred. When he stepped onto the bridge deck, he felt cool and a lotus flower. The clear and shallow river under the bridge sometimes makes waves in the breeze, and is gently painted into a shining aperture by the sun, like Sakyamuni's merciful hand.

Walking across the bridge corridor is a wonderful place, far from the other side of the dirty and cool garden-Zhuang Jie Law Temple. Quietly stop at Yuci brand building, put your hands together, look up at the eaves of the archway, and reach out to the horizon, as soft as a fairy. The jagged trees on the left and right sides are tall and beautiful, and the lush trees protect the purity and solemnity of the ancient road field like the four dharma protectors. On the beam of the archway, it is written in block letters, "Give a warning to Xiyuan and build a temple of dharma." This solemnity alone is enough for me to pay homage, walk slowly through the gate of the archway and open it like a picture scroll. Sitting in front of the mountain gate are several kindly-looking old people, some of whom are holding prayer beads and hanging their eyes to recite Buddha; Half-leaning on an old wooden stool to bask in the sun; Old people and young people who volunteer in and out of the mountain gate are bathed in Buddha's light and peaceful. The solemnity and coolness of entering the Shanmen Jiefa Temple is like a breeze, and there is an open-mindedness of "originally clean, why bother to get out of the dust".

The old temple of Zhuangjiefa was built between the Yuan Dynasty and the first year, with a history of more than 700 years. At the end of Jiajing in the Ming Dynasty, the declining Guiyuan Temple was transformed into a Western Garden by Xu Taishi, secretary of Taibu Temple. After the Tai Shi rode the crane, his son Sheyuan became a temple. In the eighth year of Chongzhen, Mao Lin was invited to take charge and changed his name to Hokkeji, Zhuang Jie, which embodied the principle of setting up temples by abstinence and teaching by law. The temple is full of scenery, and devout tourists like to hold their heads high and invite a handful of incense. East, West, North and South sincerely pray for Buddha's mercy and happiness. My favorite is the flying pigeons. There are many winding alleys in the temple, step by step like incense, and you can forget the troubles in the world when you walk. Groups of pigeons flew by tourists, some stopped on the dense branches of ancient trees, some paced on the bridge corridor, and their white feathers became as smooth as jewels in the warm autumn sunshine. People who visit temples like to share the food they carry with them. They are used to seeing too many tourists coming and going all day, and they have also developed a pair of courage to do things calmly. Children scatter food on the ground, and pigeons don't compete for leisurely food. They also let out a cry of "goo goo" in their mouths, as if they were satisfied with the response and gratitude.

Every autumn, I go for a walk in Zhuangjie Fawang Temple, perhaps for fun, perhaps for wishing, perhaps for gratitude. I can meet this pure land in the chaotic world of mortals. I was studying photography in late autumn that year, and I loved to record the beauty around me with my lens. This group of angelic white pigeons was naturally hunted into the camera. I stopped by an old tree to enjoy the scenery. Five white doves with different expressions stood on the winding branches. The sun shines through the lush green leaves, casting mottled shadows, gentle and Zen. On the far left, a white dove bent her head and arranged her feathers intently. I think it's a girl who loves beauty. The guy next to me dozed off because of the sunshine. Bodybuilding chest muscles appear and disappear. It must be an athlete. Someone craned their necks and looked far away, as if they had discovered a new continent. I was attracted by the beautiful scenery in front of me and shocked them to look up at the world. I looked up at them. I gently took out my mobile phone and kept pressing the shutter, as if I was satisfied with the peace of life.

When I put away my mobile phone, I suddenly found that it was getting late and the cool wind was blowing, and I couldn't help shivering. I waved goodbye to the white dove. As soon as I got out of the path, I saw the monks in front of me queuing up. It was evening class, and I quietly followed the last one to Mahayana Hall. The masters stood on both sides in an orderly way. The evening class begins with the long singing of Na Wei, whose Sanskrit is long and can penetrate the filth of the world and reach the other shore. I stood on the side of the main hall and listened, like a song from the world, singing into my heart bit by bit, slowly washing away my irritability, anxiety and confusion, and I was as quiet as a pacified cat. In a trance, I realized that monks with strict discipline are the treasures of Buddhist temples, and they lead the world into the world of truth, goodness and beauty with solemn and clean methods. They are the immortal souls of the cylons.