The mediocrity is over. "

Xie Wei said, "What's the point of that?"

Abbot Wangchen sighed lightly, and proclaimed the Buddha's name: "Why are you bothering?"

Xie Weiku sat for a long time, rolled his eyes and said, "Tired."

No one spoke after that.

After drinking this cup of tea, he said his goodbyes.

Before leaving, he saw the can of snow under the eaves again, so he asked for it from Abbot Wangchen, and took it down the mountain.

Abbot Wangchen said: "Snow will melt when it falls."

Xie Wei didn't answer.

At the foot of the mountain, he put the jar on the incense table in the Chaoyin Pavilion, and the snow inside had begun to melt.

He piled up the scriptures of Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism under the pavilion.

I lit the fire and burned it clean.

I owe my life and have to pay it back.

Xie Wei sat cross-legged in front of the incense table, watched the jar of snow slowly melt, and also waited for the scriptures to burn out gradually, the golden steps that could not wipe off the blood stains were placed in the center, with a clean silk handkerchief beside it.

He lowered his eyes and untied the knife in his wrist.

The thin blade refracted a ray of bright sky light into his eyes, but it didn't startle half an inch of dust around him.

In the afternoon, the little novice who was in charge of burning incense for the forest of steles came in. In the forest of steles in Sanbaiyitong Tomb, a new pit was dug behind the stele with people's names on it.

In front of the Chaoyin Pavilion, I saw a lot of blood winding down the steps from above.

The snow-white Taoist robe was half red.

A short knife with a thin blade on the incense table was wiped clean after use, and it was placed side by side with the golden step shaker.

There is no snow in the jar, only half clear water.

This man who once shrouded the New Dynasty like a shadow passed away strangely and peacefully on such an afternoon when spring was approaching and the snow was gone, leaving no words for the world.