The long river grew wilder, and voices seethed.
Small boats sent ripples across the water; fish flew beneath the nets.
Guangming Buddha walked along the riverbank like an ordinary monk, dressed in tattered robes and carrying a battered staff, walking an ordinary stretch of road.
There was nothing unusual about him, and no one cast him a different look.
This ordinariness was, in truth, far from ordinary.
But the peace and serenity were genuine.
Guangming Buddha kept walking, passing through Lower River and Middle River. Then he raised his eyes and saw the budding Upper River Lotus filling the waterway, an endless expanse of emerald green brimming with life.
Beside the river stood a fairly sizable temple, though few came to offer incense.
Understanding dawned in Guangming Buddha's heart, and a slight smile appeared on his face. Without hesitation, he walked into the temple.
Blue bricks, green tiles, and vermilion gates.
Somewhat crudely carved five-clawed wooden dragons coiled around the temple pillars.
Above the main hall, four large characters were written in a bold, unrestrained hand-Great Hero Hall.
There was no incense cauldron here, either. The few worshippers merely pressed their palms together and softly recited their wishes.
Guangming Buddha swept his gaze around, but found no monks here. He saw only a few commoners using ordinary rags to wipe the somewhat dusty surfaces.
Raising his gaze, Guangming Buddha looked at the Buddha statue's regular features. It resembled no one in particular; its eyes were simply eyes, its nose simply a nose. The smaller Buddha statues below bore identical faces, looking merely like the large Buddha reduced to half its size.
The Buddha inherently had no fixed form.
Guangming Buddha's gaze moved on to a passage of scripture covering the red wall beside him.
Its contents were familiar-a passage of