Chapter Four, 1993 (Flashback)
Then he extinguished the cigarette and slowly said, "The footsteps you hear are those of restless spirits. The children in the Gason family not only heard the footsteps but also saw ghostly shadows, which is why they sought me out." I originally did not believe much in ghosts and deities, but I truly could not explain what I had experienced. I asked him, "What is that little flute of yours? Does just blowing it really work? Let me see it." He took out the small flute and handed it to me, saying, "This is a bone flute, made from a piece of bone that could not be burned during the cremation of some high monks after they attained enlightenment. It is a ritual instrument of the Esoteric Buddhism. Of course, it doesn't have to be carved into a flute; it can also be a bone jade." When I heard it was made from human bone, I nearly dropped it in fright. I quickly returned it to him. He took it back and continued, "What I play is merely a requiem; after that, it will no longer come out to scare people." I had one more question: "Why didn't you perform the ritual before I arrived?" He squinted and said, "I just got here as well. I received a call from Gason in the morning and rushed over from the Zhema Temple in Kangbu. My car broke down in Pali, and I walked down. You arrived less than ten minutes after I entered the door."
Upon his retirement, Gesang Huofo gifted me a string of prayer beads, while Dan Zeng finally presented me with his bone flute. Subsequently, Dan Zeng visited Guiyang twice, and Juechen had once traveled to Tibet to listen to his teachings. He is an old acquaintance of Dan Zeng and also the one who facilitated the friendship between Juechen and me
Upon arriving at that place, the young man looked around and then gestured for us to sit down. I wanted to ask what "Gasongzhu Bigu" meant, but Gasong gave me a look, signaling me to remain silent. After about ten minutes, footsteps sounded again, coming from the same direction, growing closer, yet the beam of the flashlight revealed no figures. At that moment, the young man took something out from his pocket, resembling a very small flute, white as jade. He placed it to his lips and gently began to play; the sound was soft and not jarring, gentle and soothing. In less than a minute, he set down the flute, turned to Gasong, and spoke a few words in Tibetan. Gasong nodded vigorously. Then the young man looked at me and smiled, saying, "Why don't you sit down and chat with us? I can answer the questions in your heart." I thought for a moment; although I was unsure of the punishment I would face for returning late, I had to clarify what was going on, or else this fear would cast a shadow over my heart.
For the first time in my life, I felt that the night was so terrifying and fierce. I exerted all my strength to run forward. I ran to the maintenance station, and surprisingly, the lights were on.
The new recruit company commander, with a long face, bellowed, "You are soldiers; you must maintain a high level of vigilance at all times. Today's emergency assembly was delayed by a full minute. What does one minute mean? For soldiers, it means bloodshed and sacrifice. All squads, check your equipment." The results of the equipment check revealed that a significant number of soldiers were not fully equipped or had improperly packed backpacks. The commander, fuming, scolded in his authentic Yunnan accent, "You new recruits, after a holiday, you don't even know your own names anymore. At ease, stand at attention. A large portion of the soldiers are not fully equipped or have improperly packed backpacks. The commander, fuming, scolded in his authentic Yunnan accent, 'You new recruits, after a holiday, you don't even know your own names anymore. At ease, stand at attention. Everyone, five kilometers of cross-country running, go!" Running five kilometers of cross-country at three in the morning was not a first for us, but spending the first day of the Lunar New Year this way was indeed a first.
A cold wind swept by, and the sweat that had clung to my body turned icy. The sound of the wind filled my ears, and the line ahead had already vanished from sight.
I knocked on the door forcefully, calling out, "Gason, open the door." The door opened, and Gason lifted the felt curtain to let me in while asking me in very halting Chinese, "What brings you here so late?" At that moment, I noticed a young man in the room, who appeared to be only slightly older than me. I picked up a kettle from the stove, took a bowl, and poured myself a bowl of butter tea. After taking a big sip, I said, "Emergency assembly, five kilometers of endurance training."
Later, I learned that Dan Zeng belonged to the Nyingma school of Tibetan Buddhism, specifically the Abba branch, also known as the spellcaster. His practice did not interfere with his other social activities, as he did not reside in a monastery. Subsequently, he introduced me to his current master, Gesang Nacuo Rinpoche. Over the course of three years, my understanding of Tibetan Buddhism evolved from the initial concepts of cause and effect and reincarnation to a comprehension of the emptiness of the Middle Way, ultimately advancing to a profound understanding and realization of the luminous Tathāgatagarbha and the esoteric teachings, along with learning some esoteric mantras. Gesang Rinpoche accepted me as a lay disciple and bestowed upon me the Dharma name of Kai Yin the Recluse.
On January 23, 1993, I celebrated my first Spring Festival in Tibet at the recruit company. That night, after watching the Spring Festival Gala, we turned off the lights and went to sleep. We thought that there would be no emergency assembly during the festive season, so we were mentally relaxed and fell asleep as soon as we lay down, leaving our gear, which should have been neatly organized, in complete disarray. At a little past 3:00 AM, a series of urgent whistle blows startled us awake from our dreams. We thought that there would be no emergency assembly during the festive season, so we were mentally relaxed and fell asleep as soon as we lay down, leaving our gear, which should have been neatly organized, in complete disarray. At a little past 3:00 AM, a series of urgent whistle blows startled us awake from our dreams. Everyone was in a frenzy, and now and then we could hear someone quietly cursing: "Damn it, an emergency assembly during the New Year, is there no consideration for our lives?" Cursing aside, we quickly made our way to the playground, but we were a full minute slower than usual.
This place is called Ren Hetushucomcom Qinggang, with a narrow path leading to the new recruits' company, surrounded by shrubs over one meter high. I simply found a spot by the roadside to sit down, as it was less than a kilometer to the new recruits' company, allowing me to rest a bit before heading back. I took out a cigarette, lit it, and slowly enjoyed it. At that moment, I heard footsteps coming from the path we had taken. I was certain that our group had already passed, but it was nearly four o'clock; who would still be walking on such a path? I mustered my courage and called out loudly, "Who?" There was no response. The footsteps grew closer, but then something strange happened: I heard the footsteps pass right in front of me, yet I saw no one. I am not a timid person, but at that moment, I felt extremely frightened, as if my heart had risen to my throat. I needed to understand what was happening; despite the fear filling my heart, I still followed the sound of the footsteps ahead. I knew there was a work station not far ahead, and if anything happened, I could run there, where the work station leader, Gasong, and his family lived.
That night was very dark, with no moon in the sky, and only a few stars faintly hanging above. The sky in Tibet felt close, as if the stars could be reached by hand. I did not know how long I had been running, but I gradually fell behind the group. The squad leader called my name from the front and shouted loudly, but I could no longer hear what he was saying. My feet felt as if they were filled with lead, so heavy that I could barely lift them, and I involuntarily slowed my pace. After all, I always came in last in the five-kilometer runs, so I was used to it; at worst, I would go back and listen to them roar at me. My feet felt as if they were filled with lead, so heavy that I could barely lift them, and I involuntarily slowed my pace. After all, I always came in last in the five-kilometer runs, so I was used to it; at worst, I would go back and listen to them roar at me
The young man was dressed very fashionably, but it was immediately apparent that he was also of Tibetan descent. He wore a black down jacket, jeans, high-top leather boots, and a baseball cap, while holding a portable cassette player labeled "Patriot and Bibliophile." However, his gaze was fixed on me, and his Mandarin was much more fluent than Garsong's: "Are you feeling nervous? Have you encountered something strange?" I glanced at him, then at Garsong, and nodded, relaying the experience I had just had. Garsong gave a wry smile to the young man and said something in Tibetan that I could not understand. The young man stood up and said to me: "Take me to the place where you heard the footsteps earlier." I asked Garsong who this young man was, and Garsong replied that he was a Zhugibu. I did not know what Zhugibu meant, but I felt it was inappropriate to ask. He took a flashlight and gestured for me to lead the way. Although I did not know who he was, I followed his instructions and took him there. Garsong closely followed behind, holding a string of prayer beads and mumbling to himself.
I nodded and said, "So you are the lama from Zhema Temple." He replied, "I am not a lama; I do not reside in the temple, I only occasionally go to give teachings." Then he looked at me with a strange expression, and I felt a shiver run down my spine: "What are you looking at? Do I have flowers on me?" He smiled and said, "Actually, you have quite a connection with Buddhism; why not learn some Buddhist teachings and become a lay practitioner?" I quickly shook my head; if the military found out I was studying Tibetan Buddhism, it would be surprising if I wasn't expelled. He seemed to see through my thoughts and said, "It's fine; I’m not really asking you to become a lama, just be a lay disciple and cultivate your own understanding." I chuckled, "Can one really self-study Buddhism?" He asked me, "Does Buddha have a constant form?" I thought for a moment and shook my head. He then asked, "Does the Dharma have a constant state?" I shook my head again. He said, "Then that’s right; being attached to form loses its meaning, and being attached to state loses its truth." I felt like I understood, but also felt as if I didn’t understand at all. I shook my head again, and he asked, "Does the Dharma have a constant state?" I shook my head once more. He said, "Then that’s right; being attached to form loses its meaning, and being attached to state loses its truth." I felt like I understood, but also felt as if I didn’t understand at all. I said, "There must be someone to guide and teach regularly, right?" He replied, "Recently, I have been staying at Gajiu Temple, which is not far from here; you can come find me when you have time." I shook my head, saying, "I can’t go to the temple to find you; it would be a disaster if the leaders saw me." He said, "Alright, I will be at Gasong every weekend; come by when you have time. But you and I are just friends, so I can’t really offer guidance and teachings." I agreed.
Returning to the work unit, Gason served everyone some butter tea again. I took out cigarettes, handing one to each person, and then couldn't help but ask the young man: "Just now, Gason mentioned your Zhubi Gu, what does Zhubi Gu mean?" The young man smiled, looking at Gason, who explained: "In our Tibetan Buddhism, a person who has achieved success in practice and can reincarnate according to their own will is called 'Zhubi Gu'. In your Han language, it can also be referred to as 'Living Buddha'." This time, it was my turn to be surprised; the young man in front of me was actually a reincarnated Living Buddha. I curiously asked, "A Living Buddha at such a young age?" The young man smiled and said to me, "You can still call me Danzen. Meeting is a kind of fate; we are about the same age and should be able to become friends." I awkwardly smiled, and Gason reiterated: "In our Tibetan Buddhism, a person who has achieved success in practice and can reincarnate according to their own will is called 'Zhubi Gu'. In your Han language, it can also be referred to as 'Living Buddha'." This time, it was my turn to be surprised; the young man in front of me was actually a reincarnated Living Buddha. I curiously asked, "A Living Buddha at such a young age?" The young man smiled and said to me, "You can still call me Danzen. Meeting is a kind of fate; we are about the same age and should be able to become friends." I awkwardly smiled, feeling a bit excited; having a Living Buddha as a friend is something worth boasting about. But I immediately thought of the earlier experience and asked him what was going on, and what about his little flute, what kind of treasure was that? Feeling a bit excited; having a Living Buddha as a friend is something worth boasting about. But I immediately thought of the earlier experience and asked him what was going on, and what about his little flute, what kind of treasure was that? He looked at me and said, "Can you tell me your birth time?" I was taken aback but still told him my birth date and month. After hearing it, he slightly frowned and thought for a moment, then said, "No wonder you can't see. It turns out your Ba Zi is pure Yang."
When I felt I was getting close, the footsteps suddenly vanished, leaving only the wind howling in my ears