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The Zen room was silent, with smoke from the furnace curling up.

Master Fahui's whole body is as dry as an ancient tree and as quiet as a cold pool.

The rosary beads between the fingers are slowly twisted one by one, counting reincarnations and dialing life and death.

Gu Chen's eyes were unknowingly drawn by the dark red pearl light again.

The last time he came, he felt that the pearl was like a living thing.

At that time, he only thought he was dizzy after drinking, but now he was sure that it was one of the beads in the rosary that attracted him.

Master Fahui took off the rosary, raised his hand and handed it out.

"Donor Gu is suspicious."

Gu Chen lowered his head and looked at the bead.

The pearly light is dim, carrying countless days and nights, countless calls, being crushed, kneaded, and compressed into this small piece of wood.

"This bead carries the benefactor Zhao from his previous life."

"...What?"

Master Fahui’s voice was gentle:

"Everything that all sentient beings seek is 'my good'. As long as you keep your body upright and your mind pure, you will gain something from this Zhuanling Temple. Otherwise, you will be devoured. But no matter whether they are good or bad, the people who come to this mountain gate are all seeking wealth, seeking power, seeking longevity, seeking marriage, and seeking happiness for the whole family. All their desires are for 'me'."

"Only Donor Zhao is asking for 'his good'."

Gu Chen's hand was hanging in the air, trembling slightly.

"If the donor wants to see it, he can see it."

The beads fell into the palm of my hand.

That moment——

An unprecedented power penetrated from the fingertips into the bone marrow, rushed from the arms to the heart, and surged from the heart to the eye sockets.

A person is far, far away, and his name seems to be there.

I shouted for one life and another.

His eyes suddenly darkened——

The world collapsed, cause and effect turned around, and it was his lover who kowtowed a thousand times to change his lowered eyes at this moment.

He saw Anyang.

The city walls are old, the streets are dilapidated, and the locust tree at the gate of the county government office has not grown up yet.

In his previous life, he was wearing a green shirt, squatting on the field ridge, his hands full of mud, talking to an old farmer.

Then he saw her.

Zhao Hongling is riding on a maroon horse, her red clothes are like fire.

He heard her say:

"This person is different from other officials."

This was his first time in Anyang in his previous life.

He treats the floods, and she follows; he treats the locusts, and she watches.

She never came close.

I was just riding on that bay-red horse, watching the county magistrate crawling around in the muddy water from a distance.

Later, he rose through the ranks step by step, gained the favor of Emperor Chongsheng, and became the general of Fengzhou in the northern border, where he went out to guard the border.

Wearing armor and riding a horse, he set out from the north gate of the capital.

On the city wall, a red figure was hiding behind the crenels, holding a flute in his hand.

She raised the flute to her lips.

She played a marching song, but in that song, she hid a prayer that no one heard.

"Gu Chen. I wish you victory in every battle."

He saw her kneeling in the main hall of Zhao Mansion again, kneeling in front of Zhao Taiji and the eldest princess.

"Grandpa, mother, I will never marry again in this life."

Zhao Taiji was stunned: "What did you say?"

"I will never marry again in this life. My sweetheart has already married someone else. I can't hold anyone else in my heart, and I don't want to wrong myself. Please make it happen, grandpa and mother."

The eldest princess's tears fell.

Zhao Taiji only asked: "Have you decided?"

She nodded.

Later, she listened to the battle report from the front line. That man had another great victory and beheading today.

He had maintained the peace of the Northern Territory for several years by himself.

He saw her getting older year by year.

The white hairs on the temples grew one by one, and the wrinkles at the corners of the eyes deepened one by one.

She is still doing those things, giving out porridge, providing disaster relief, and drawing her sword to help when there is injustice on the road.

She went to many places, met many people, and helped many people.

Until she got older and could no longer leave the capital, the flute was still hanging on her waist and the long sword could only be hung on the wall.

Finally, after his death, he saw her going to Zhuanling Temple.

We walked up step by step from the foot of the mountain, walking very slowly, taking a break after walking dozens of steps.

Arrived at the temple.

A very young Dharma novice monk asked her: "Donor, what do you ask for?"

"Gu Chen, I wish everything will be fine in the next life."

The young novice monk named Fahui asked: "Is this person very important to the donor?"

"Well, it's more important than that."

The little novice monk seemed to have a childlike innocence, and asked again: "Every request will be answered, never twice. Donor, have you thought about it?"

"All things in the world, but this person is incomparable to me. I have thought about it."

She knelt before the Buddha and began to kowtow.

One, two, three...

Because I am getting old, my knees are no longer good and I can no longer bend my waist.

She could only kowtow slowly, but no one was missing.

She knocked a thousand times.

At the last one, she smiled and said:

"May Gu Chen,"

"Everything will be fine in the next life."

There is no "I", no "we".

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