Li Dingxun gazed at the phantom before him.
He was the only light source in the cave, appearing like a glowing colloid that had coalesced into a human form.
It was an old man dressed in very peculiar clothes.
He began to speak, his face full of fervor, sparks flying from his lips, floating like fireflies before vanishing instantly into the air.
"After so many years, there's finally a living person! The fourteen Venerables of this Sacred Pure Land are truly beyond words. Oh dear, may the Bodhisattva bless this new kid to be clever, and preferably to cultivate the Supreme Yoga Dharma. If he can't, then we'll find someone else to learn it. In any case, all the cultivation methods must be memorized…"
This strange old man hadn't seen anyone for so long that his intense desire to confide couldn't be stopped, and words flowed out like a tide.
"If it really doesn't work, then I can only perform an anointing… But then wouldn't I be unable to reincarnate? It's a pity that reincarnation only recently became available in the Pure Land; this old monk also wants to experience it. Just don't enter the animal realm…"
Li Dingxun asked, "Elder, who are you?"
The chattering mouth of the soul stopped—no, not stopped, but froze, restrained, as if a wall had been stuffed into its mouth. The lingering sound of its words still swirled on its tongue, but its voice had completely faded away.
The old man was silent for a moment, then smiled again.
"Who am I?
"You must remember that I am a cowardly man who committed suicide. Don't follow my example in the future.
"Alright, let's begin the apprenticeship."
Li Dingxun knelt on the ground, feeling dizzy, just as he had once knelt before his teacher.
The nameless Lama stroked his head with a withered right palm.
Li Dingxun looked up blankly, and countless Western Region characters on the cave wall lit up.
The soul's palm was neither cold nor warm; it simply lacked substance.
It lacked vitality.
Like clouds and mists, like light gauze.
"Alright, from now on, you are a successor of the Vajra Sect. Get up, this Venerable will teach you the introductory inner cultivation method, 'Vajra Four Preliminary Practices'…"
Everything happened too quickly, like a dream; all that he saw, heard, smelled, touched, and thought was so illusory.
Li Dingxun unconsciously fainted.
…
"Xun-zai, wake up." His mother, Li Meizheng, woke her eldest son, who was sleeping in the quiet room.
"Ah Ma, I just had a dream."
"What kind of dream?"
"It was all golden, mountains, and Bodhisattvas."
Li Meizheng's face lit up with joy, "Good child, you've entered the Pure Land!"
"It seems so." Li Dingxun recalled the characters on the mountain wall, the so-called Sacred Pure Land.
"Quick, tell Ah Ma, what did you see? Were there many people? Did they scold you?"
"No one, no, there was someone, an old man, very kind to me, taught me things."
"What did he teach you?"
"I don't remember, I fell asleep."
Li Meizheng burst into laughter, doubling over with amusement at her son's simple-mindedness.
She laughed and hugged Li Dingxun, then led him to bed, tucked him in, and turned to leave the room to tell Li Piguang the good news.
The bedroom door closed, but Li Dingxun wasn't asleep.
But he also didn't open his eyes.
He felt a white flower in the center of his brain, with only two petals, from which a cold current surged, flowing down his spine to his lower abdomen, where it entered a coral-red four-petal flower, then split into two streams, one left and one right, curving back to his brow.
Very interesting.
He watched for a while, feeling a bit tired, and was about to sleep when the bedroom door was pushed open again, and Li Piguang chuckled as he stepped into the room.
Since his father had arrived, Li Dingxun had no choice but to get up and pay his respects.
"Good child, entering the Pure Land at five years old, it seems you have a predestined affinity with the Bodhisattva! With this blessing, your old dad can finally rest easy."
Li Meizheng followed behind, tucked her eldest son back into bed, then sat on the edge of the bed and glared at Li Piguang, "Of course my son is blessed, but Xun-zai said an old man taught him things, but he doesn't know what exactly was taught." She turned and patted Li Dingxun's little face, "Come, tell Ah Ma, what did that old man say?"
Li Dingxun, in a daze, blinked three times, mumbled a few incoherent words in his sleep, and then actually fell asleep like that.
The couple exchanged a smile, but had no intention of probing further.
They sat by the bed and chatted for a while longer, then got up and left.
The next day, Li Dingxun woke up early to practice standing meditation. For some reason, he stood quite properly; as he himself described it, he felt as if he had several internal supports holding his posture up. Li Piguang attributed his progress to the Bodhisattva's blessing, as if entering the Pure Land had opened his understanding.
At noon, his younger brother, Li Zhongshou, who was one year his junior, ran over from the neighboring courtyard to find him.
"Ah Ge, have you seen my snail?"
Li Dingxun was startled. His brother was referring to the echo conch, one of the boy's toys.
"Why are you looking for your own things here at my place?"
His four-year-old brother was a bit clever, "Yesterday, I was throwing the snail, and it disappeared."
Echo conch, throwing it around…
Li Dingxun sat by the pond, unwilling to move, so he prevaricated, "Alright, Ah Ge will help you find it. Go back and play."
"No, I want to play with Ah Ge." After saying that, he ran back vigorously, and after a considerable amount of time, he returned carrying a pile of wooden parts.
"These are the Sword Casting Villa's mechanical toys, right?" Li Dingxun had heard the servants talk about these popular products across the Divine Land. Through channels like Pure Land Purchase and several major merchant guilds, those blacksmiths could sell these gadgets all over the South Sea.
Mechanical puppets were a unique feature of Sword Casting Villa, said to be a direct inheritance from the Mohist school of the pre-Qin period. The Villa also welcomed many successors of Lu Ban and Gongshu. After generations of diligent research, they had reached the pinnacle of skill, even achieving a spiritual realm.
His brother, Li Zhongshou, loved to play, so Li Meizheng had someone purchase many such fun items. The small puppets from Sword Casting Villa were equivalent to modern children's Lego toys, and families with means would not miss out on them.
Li Dingxun spent an hour with his brother assembling the parts, finally putting together a small wooden bird. When wound up, the bird flapped its wings and flew erratically, eventually crashing into the head of the old teacher, startling him into falling. Poor man, he was holding books to teach, and was suddenly attacked upon entering the door. His bottom was bruised, and a small lump appeared on his forehead.
Therefore, for the next three weeks, Li Dingxun did not have lessons in his own courtyard. In the afternoon, he would kneel in front of the teacher's guest room door, loudly reciting poetry towards the closed, carved wooden door. If he made a mistake, the old man's angry roar would come from inside, and he would be told to hit himself with the ruler.
Li Dingxun grabbed the ruler with his left hand and sharply struck his right palm five times, then began reciting again, "Guan guan ju jiu, in the river's isle…"
As the sun set, the sky was always overcast, and a halo gently descended upon the saddle-roofed wall. Li Dingxun's mouth was dry, listening to his teacher's lecture, but his eyes wandered, watching the cloud-filled sky interwoven with pale golden shadows, like a thick piece of silk. The dark cloud patterns resembled divine dragons in the sky, chasing the hidden sun. And the sun would fall behind the wall, behind the mountains, its light still lingering, illuminating, refracting and diffusing, yet the night also devoured the sky like a giant beast.
A gust of wind rose, hoping it would disperse the clouds somewhat tonight, so that the moon and stars could emerge for a breath of fresh air from under such a heavy quilt, otherwise wouldn't it be very stifling?
Li Dingxun wondered, were the moon and stars always there, or was there nothing behind the clouds, and only when the mists dispersed would the moon and stars appear?
"Go back and transcribe 'Shuo Shu', 'Jian Jia'… and other pieces, in regular script…" The teacher's words were muddled, mixed with phlegm, his already hoarse voice even more eerie, as if high notes were mixed with low notes, but without any comfortable mid-range. "Alright, go back."
Li Dingxun awoke as if from a dream, "Thank you, Teacher! May Teacher recover soon! Your student takes his leave!"
One night, in the quiet room, he found his brother's echo conch in a corner by the door. No wonder he had been hearing someone mimicking his speech these past two days.
Clutching the conch shell, he looked back at the window opening on the wall. Li Dingxun spread his hand and cupped a handful of moonlight, as if it were night dew condensed into frost.
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