Before coming to Guangyuan Temple, Tang Li had already notified Feng Qi.
She had cleared her schedule for a week.
Thus, for the following days, Tang Li stayed on the mountain, just as she said she would, chanting scriptures and praying for Tang Yin. She had never worshipped Buddha before and knew nothing about Buddhist scriptures, so she borrowed a copy of the Ksitigarbha Sutra from the temple.
Every morning, she would stay in Ksitigarbha Hall and recite scriptures with a master.
At noon, after eating, Tang Li would return to the courtyard.
There was no wireless signal on the mountain, no TV, and no young girls to chat with. The only woman was Aunt Zhang, who worked in the kitchen.
When the sun was nice, Tang Li could sit in the courtyard for the entire afternoon.
Sometimes, she would also help in the kitchen.
Although the temple was not receiving pilgrims recently, there were still many people who needed meals, including monks, workers, Song Baiyan, Ji Ming, and herself, adding up to thirty-seven people.
If initially Tang Li felt bored for the first two days, gradually she no longer felt that it was unbearable whether she was reciting scriptures in Ksitigarbha Hall or sitting under the eaves in the sun. She even began to feel a deep inner peace, including a calmness that she wouldn’t have in the noisy big city.
As for Song Baiyan’s daily routine, it was even more "dull" than hers.
On the first day she woke up, Tang Li found that the person next door was already gone and asked the Little Monk sweeping the yard.
The Little Monk, who looked only six or seven years old, blushed slightly when Tang Li approached him and smelled the faint fruity fragrance on her, holding a broom as tall as him, he spoke like a little adult: "Benefactor Song always gets up early, he has gone to attend the morning teachings."
After washing up, Tang Li went to the main hall for the morning lesson.
Approaching the entrance, she immediately saw Song Baiyan sitting on a meditation cushion.
The man’s figure was broad and upright, and he did not seem out of place amongst the monks, as if he truly belonged there.
Such a Song Baiyan, who would know without revealing his identity, that he is a major figure in the political arena, it was hard to imagine that the future Head of State was sitting cross-legged in front of a Buddha statue, deeply immersed in meditation each morning.
For a moment, Tang Li had an illusion. If Song Baiyan didn’t pursue politics, would he choose to become a monk here instead?
She recalled what Fu Si had once said.
A man with strong willpower, yet frequently worships Buddha – has he truly understood it or not?
After watching for a long time, she ultimately didn’t step into the main hall.
After staying on the mountain for four days, Tang Li couldn’t resist wanting to wash her hair.
It was already late December, and the weather turned bitterly cold, especially on the mountain without water heaters or heating facilities, making bathing a major issue. Not wanting to catch a cold, Tang Li could only wipe her body with a hot towel before going to bed every night.
That afternoon, seeing the bright sunshine, she asked the kitchen for three pots of hot water to wash her hair.
She placed a chair in the bathroom, caught some cold water in a basin, added the hot water to adjust the temperature, then undid the hair tie and started washing her hair leaning forward.
Midway through washing, foam got into Tang Li’s eyes. As she reached for a dry towel, she instead touched something slimy.
Not knowing what it was, she instinctively pulled her hand back and stepped backward, forgetting there were steps behind her, and she fell down, kicking the chair and causing the basin full of water to loudly hit the ground.
Tang Li felt the denim of her jeans soaked from the knee down, and water droplets from her hair continuously dripped down.