Song Shaoyan sat silently in this small and medium-sized space, looking at everything in the drawer.

"Mr. Song, the noodles are ready." Xiaoduo brought the noodles up, "Eat it while it's hot."

"Put it here."

"good."

Soon, the scent of egg noodles filled the room with steam.

Song Shaoyan brought the bowl over and tasted the freshly made noodles.

I took a bite and it tasted okay, but I always felt like there was something missing.

Halfway through the meal, he couldn't eat anymore, so he put down the bowl and still sat silently.

The wind outside the window whistled, and a thin layer of water mist formed on the window. It was hazy and the scene outside could not be seen clearly. The world was only as big as the room and nothing else.

The early winter is biting and chilly.

…

There is a thousand-year-old temple in Huacheng, Baohua Temple.

War and natural disasters in the past caused Baohua Temple to be rebuilt many times, until it was built into its current appearance, with excellent architecture and tranquility.

This is not the largest temple, there are not many pilgrims, and it does not occupy a large area, but it is far away from the city center and is very peaceful.

Song Shaoyan has been here many times, and he has thought clearly that since he has no more desires and pursuits, he might as well convert to Buddhism for the rest of his life to find peace of mind.

He did not plan to become a monk directly and convert to Buddhism. From then on, he would let go of the previous world and all the materialistic desires.

Song Shaoyan visited Baohua Temple many times, especially the year he came to Huacheng after the accident. He spent a long time in Baohua Temple, but at that time he still had something he wanted in his heart and could not convert to Buddhism.

.

Nowadays, it can be regarded as putting everything aside.

Today, he is here again.

The cold wind was biting, and gusts of wind cut into his face like knives, causing every inch of his skin to hurt.

He just asked the driver to take him to the door and entered Baohua Temple alone.

He wore a black windbreaker, solemn and solemn.

It is so quiet here. No one sweeps the ginkgo leaves that have fallen on the ground. They are spread out in a thick layer. When the wind blows, they fly like butterflies, fluttering around.

There were a few monks working, but there were no pilgrims, and there was a faint smell of incense floating in the air.

There are bells hanging on the eaves of the temple, which make a "dang-dang" sound from time to time. The sound is ethereal and lonely, and can be heard far and wide.

The sound of Song Shaoyan's wheelchair rubbing against the ground was clearly audible. He was holding his breath and concentrating, his eyes were distant and deep, as calm as the water in an ancient well, with a quiet luster.

He made an appointment with the abbot, Master Yichan.

Arriving at a wooden door with simple carved patterns, Song Shaoyan entered and immediately saw the solemn statue of Buddha. Song Shaoyan worshiped devoutly.

In the temple, there was the constant sound of young monks chanting sutras, mixed with the ringing of bells.

It was early one morning, the temple had just recovered from the night, the morning dew was still there, and it was peaceful and peaceful.

Song Shaoyan did not go to the abbot immediately. He closed his eyes silently, and his heart was extremely quiet. This was a rare kind of tranquility, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world and right and wrong. Everything in the past and everything in the future had nothing to do with him.

This is probably the transition from one world to another, the balance point between life and death in his eyes.

Song Shaoyan closed his eyes and listened to the various sounds in the temple. This was different from the bustle of the outside world. Here, he could gain inner peace and calm, and probably be able to find his true self.
Chapter completed!