Chapter 167

On this day, Jia Cong took Xiang Ling and set off from Taoye Ferry in Jin Ling, going down the Yangtze River to Gusu.

Along the way, Jia Cong found that Xiang Ling had an uneasy feeling on her face that could not be dispersed.

She was abducted by traffickers before she could remember anything, and her memory of her hometown had long since disappeared, and her impression of her parents was also very vague.

Her hometown and relatives were like a thick fog that was difficult to uncover, and it was difficult to see what was behind it.

Not knowing where she was born, not knowing where to return—for a girl in her teens, this was what kind of heavy confusion and fear.

Jia Cong saw her staring blankly at the vast river, her beautiful eyebrows slightly furrowed, and a burst of pity rose in his heart, gently holding her hand.

"Don't worry, you were lost since you were a child. When your mother knows you are back, she will definitely treat you well."

"I changed your name to Xiang Ling at the beginning. Now that I think about it, you are going to find your biological mother. It is best to change it back to your original name, Zhen Zhen Ying Lian."

In the original timeline, Xiang Ling also changed her name several times, from Zhen Ying Lian to Xiang Ling, and from Xiang Ling to Qiuling. Every time she changed her name, her fate became more miserable, until she died.

Jia Cong looked at the woman's eyebrows, which were somewhat similar to Zhen Ying Lian's, and already understood half of it: "May I ask if this is the home of Madam Zhen in Renqing Lane, Shili Street?"

Just now his attention was all on Jia Cong, but at this moment he suddenly noticed Zhen Ying Lian behind Jia Cong, and his eyes froze.

The woman saw that Jia Cong was a stranger and was somewhat surprised: "Does this young master have anything to do?"

But he was still a bit worried, so he asked again: "Is the lady's daughter named Zhen Ying Lian, who was lost when she was young and has never been found?"

This woman was not only similar to Zhen Ying Lian in eyebrows, but also her expression when she saw Zhen Ying Lian. Jia Cong knew that she must be Madam Feng, the wife of Zhen Shiyin.

"How does this young master know my husband's family?"

Finally, the door was knocked by Jia Cong. After a while, it opened with a creak.

"My Zhen Ying Lian has been lost for ten years. I pray to gods and Buddhas every day, just hoping she can come back."

Zhen Ying Lian saw the woman crying, as if she had received some kind of induction, and she was also full of tears, but she didn't know what to do, just shouting helplessly: "Young Master..."

When the boat arrived in Gusu, Jia Cong followed the address found by the Ying Tian Prefecture and finally found Feng Su's home in a street in the city.

And in this life, she changed her name several times, but she would definitely not repeat the same mistakes, because she had him, a person from the next life. He would do his best to protect her peace for a lifetime.

The two stood in front of the strange courtyard door. Xiang Ling held Jia Cong's hand tightly, her face turned somewhat pale, as if something terrible would run out of the opened door.

The woman looked at Zhen Ying Lian, trembling all over, and tears flowed down.

Madam Feng grabbed the girl's hand fiercely, and could even hear her panicked heartbeat. Ten months of pregnancy, that was the heartbeat of her own daughter.

Jia Cong's eyes were also a bit red: "Zhen Ying Lian, this is your mother."

A middle-aged woman came out, her face withered, her temples gray, showing an indescribable fatigue, but her eyebrows were delicate and beautiful. Thinking about it, she must have been a good-looking person when she was young.

The woman's face lost its color all of a sudden, as if her only vitality had been swallowed up by something.

The woman was stunned. Since her husband was lost, no one had called her like this for ten years.

That strong feeling of familiarity, the uncontrollable budding in the blood, and that bright red dot between the girl's eyebrows.

At this time, Zhen Ying Lian, who was hiding behind Jia Cong, couldn't help but look at the woman, and her eyes froze, looking at the other party blankly.

Her own daughter, even if separated for ten years, Madam Feng still recognized the appearance of her childhood at a glance, and the red mole between her eyebrows was exactly the same.

She hugged Zhen Ying Lian and cried loudly, and soon the neighbors were alarmed.

Her daughter, who had been lost for more than ten years, had actually returned. Madam Feng was overjoyed and could not express it in words. She immediately wanted to kneel down and kowtow, but was hurriedly supported by Jia Cong.

The crying had alarmed Feng Su and his wife in the room. Hearing this origin, they were also full of surprise.

The old woman Feng was fine, but this Feng Su was nearly sixty years old, his hair was already gray, and seeing Jia Cong's luxurious clothes, he revealed a greedy and envious look, which made Jia Cong frown.

Jia Cong stayed in Gusu for two more days, calculating that the completion and opening day of the main hall of the Daci'en Temple was approaching. According to the etiquette verified by the Ministry of Rites, those who were ordered to copy scriptures must attend the ceremony.

So he could only rush back to Jin Ling first. Madam Feng and Zhen Ying Lian sent him to the ferry. Although Jia Cong promised that he would come back, Zhen Ying Lian still didn't stop her tears on the way.

Until Jia Cong boarded the boat and left the shore, he still saw her unwilling to leave on the pier.

December, 12th year of Emperor Jia Zhao, the main hall of the Daci'en Temple in Jin Ling, the Mahavira Hall, was completed.

"Great" means encompassing everything; "Heroic" means capturing and suppressing all demons;

"Mahavira" means that the Buddha has deep wisdom and high virtue, can break subtle and deep sorrow, can transform love and hatred, and can accommodate thousands of karmic laws.

In the center of the main hall sits Sakyamuni, and on both sides stand eighteen Arhats.

Behind the main statue is the Guanyin Bodhisattva of the South Sea, with a beautiful and kind face, full of human vitality, lifelike. This standing statue is sculpted according to the appearance of Emperor Emperor Jia Zhao's biological mother, Empress Dowager Xianxiao, during her lifetime.

On the east and west walls of the main hall are exquisite and delicate murals, depicting the magnificent scenery of the Western Paradise. The dome of the main hall takes the meaning of the nine heavens of the Western Tathagata, carved with blue and gold, extremely solemn and magnificent.

Under the great Buddha Sakyamuni, on the incense table, the spirit tablet of Empress Dowager Xianxiao is enshrined, and the twelve volumes of Buddhist scriptures copied by Jia Cong are respectfully enshrined on both sides.

Because this Mahavira Hall has the meaning of imperial etiquette, the Monk Recording Department of the Divine Capital invited eminent monks and nuns from famous temples in Jin Ling, Yangzhou, Gusu, Zhenjiang, and other places to enter the Mahavira Hall to chant mantras and pray for the peace of the spirit.

Jia Cong and officials sent by various government offices in Jin Ling were all standing in line for etiquette outside the hall door.

They saw hundreds of monks and nuns outside the mountain gate, wearing robes of various colors, each holding beads and ritual implements, walking toward the main hall majestically, all lowering their eyebrows and joining their palms, chanting the Rebirth Mantra, the murmuring Sanskrit singing echoing, the atmosphere was solemn and vast.

Jia Cong listened to the Sanskrit singing like clouds and mountains, and his heart was also peaceful and flawless. For a moment, it was as if he had entered the spiritual mountain.

The hundreds of monks and nuns lined up to enter the Mahavira Hall, circling around the great Buddha Sakyamuni and the spirit tablet, circling three times, chanting mantras constantly.

The four walls of the Mahavira Hall were sound-sealed, and the dome was high, which had the effect of gathering and expanding sound. Those chanting sounds seemed to be blessed by heaven, merging into a loud noise like a bell, surging out of the Mahavira Hall.

The officials of various government offices in Jin Ling standing outside the hall were shocked by this gathering of strange phenomena, and their faces showed awe and piety.

After the monks and nuns circled the Buddha and the spirit tablet and chanted scriptures for three weeks, they exited from the back door of the main hall.

At this time, Jia Cong looked up unintentionally and looked into the main hall, only to see another group of monks and nuns circling to the front of the Buddha, just facing outside the hall.

Among the group of monks and nuns, there were actually two nuns with hair, with pretty faces, following behind an old nun wearing an apricot-yellow robe, which was very eye-catching in the crowd.

Both of them had hair tied in a bun, wearing moon-white plain-sleeved shirts, covered with water-field green satin-edged long vests, tied with autumn-fragrance silk ribbons on their slender waists, and wearing ink-white silk skirts under their waists, holding duster tails and prayer beads.

One of the nuns was beautiful and elegant, with a scholarly and elegant air, and a cold complexion.

And the other one had willow eyebrows and bright eyes, with a graceful posture, as beautiful as a peony, and that face was so familiar!

At that moment, Jia Cong was struck by lightning, and the whole person was stunned there.

In the warehouse of the East Road Courtyard that year.

Who sewed new clothes for him all night.

In the cold night with heavy dew, who helped him warm the quilt.

Who combed his hair and put on his clothes every day in the morning light.

On the lonely and cold New Year's Eve, accompanied him to post couplets, waiting for the spring light to come.

Beside the Luoxia Bridge, throwing herself into the river, that graceful figure that could never be found again.

Now it appeared in front of his eyes again. Jia Cong could no longer distinguish between reality and illusion. His heart was surging and could not be suppressed, and his whole body was trembling slightly.

Only the roaring Sanskrit singing in the main hall, returning like a tide, echoing through the world, as if the gods and Buddhas were moved by it, descended supreme Nirvana to repair this separated fate.

Entering meditation to cultivate the Dharma eye,

Begging the Three Treasures to descend to the spiritual platform,

What have the saints in the view ever seen,

The old man did not invite but came by himself.

(End of chapter)