"This humble monk is alone now. Whether Bushi still refuses to let go or has let go, it seems not so important anymore."
Wen Xu hated this feeling of looking into a mirror. He thought that if not for Chunchou, if not for Yonglu Mountain, then after learning of his own origins, he would surely have ended up taking the same path as Bushi. Seeing Bushi like this now, boundless relief naturally rose in his heart, and so he said, "Then it is important."
"What?"
"I said, can you lower that proud head of yours? Are you wearing some fragile treasure on your head, that you are so unwilling to lower it even a little? In one lifetime, everyone has an unbearable past. Bushi, are you a saint? Must you demand that you be spotless and flawless, just like that monk's robe of yours?"
"You speak in fits and starts, with clouds veiling and mist shrouding your words. You want others to understand, yet refuse to explain yourself clearly. How are others supposed to help you? You say you will not save people, you say you do not care about the Innate Buddha Heart—Bushi, the hardest thing on your entire body is that mouth of yours!"
Friends influenced one another. Perhaps even Wen Xu himself had not noticed that, imperceptibly, he had long since picked up his friends' "bad habits." For instance, right now, he simply reached out and lifted the utterly defenseless Bushi up. "Bushi, wanting to live is nothing shameful. The suffering you have endured is by no means the most heart-rending pain in this world. If you remain so crushed that you cannot rise again, I will look down on you."
Bushi's entire body stiffened. By the time he realized it, Wen Xu had already firmly seized