Chapter 63: Playing

“Goodbye, my dear, I’m going back~” Uehara Moe sang with a determined look on her face, her hand on the ship’s rail.

Minamoto Kiyomoto, Kamibayashi Miko, and Himemiya Izayoi sat on the white chairs on the deck.

Shirako stood at the bow of the ship, her hands behind her slender waist, facing the wind like a navy captain. The little butterfly sat on her shoulder, holding down her hair that was blowing in the wind with a touch of charm.

“How did I sing!” Uehara Moe turned her head and asked the three of them.

“What about it?” Minamoto Kiyomoto retorted.

“The ‘Tsugaru Strait Winter Scenery’! Haven’t you heard of it?”

“A movie?”

“A song! Ishikawa Sayuri’s 15th single, released on January 1, 1977!”

“1977? Are you really a 17-year-old high school girl?” Minamoto Kiyomoto looked her up and down.

“Ah, I’ve been bullied. I’m going to jump from here.”

“I’ve seen this one, ‘Titanic’,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

“I’m angry!” Uehara Moe turned around, made a trumpet with her hands, and shouted at the seagulls in the sky, “Brother Kiyomoto, you idiot—”

“Piglet, you idiot—” Shirako had arrived by Uehara Moe’s side at some point and shouted along with her.

“Piglet, you idiot—” The little butterfly stood on Shirako’s shoulder. After roaring, she was so tired that she sat down on her shoulder.

The sky was as blue as if it had been washed, and the sea was a deep blue.

The three-story white ferry broke the calm of the sea, stirring up white waves as it sailed towards Takamatsu Port.

Minamoto Kiyomoto smiled and turned his head to look at the two miko.

◇

The train in Takamatsu was very leisurely, with only two carriages.

It passed through tall cornfields, swayed past grape trellises that looked like hanging black gems, and there were mandarin oranges planted on the slopes.

After driving along the coast for a while, it suddenly turned at a certain place and entered the city.

On both sides were endless tall buildings and residential areas. After a while, it passed by parks, factories, and apartments.

Shirako and the little butterfly pressed their faces against the car window, watching the scenery of the strange place in a daze.

In their eyes, everything was so new.

In the morning, they wandered around. At noon, they ate udon noodles near Ritsurin Garden and went for a walk directly after eating.

The paths in the park were all stone paths. The lotus flowers in the pond were exceptionally red. The branches of the pine trees overhead were winding and strange, like an art painting against the sky.

“Let’s go and sit in front!” After walking for a while, Uehara Moe pointed to a pavilion and suggested.

“Okay,” Minamoto Kiyomoto replied.

“It is said that Ritsurin Garden used to be the private garden of a certain daimyo,” as she walked, Uehara Moe acted as a tour guide. “Later, he offended His Majesty, was stripped of his title, and this garden was opened to the public.”

The His Majesty of Kansai—the Lord of Kyoto.

“What did this daimyo do? It wasn’t because he was late again, was it?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked Himemiya Izayoi in a low voice.

“How would I know?” Himemiya Izayoi rolled her eyes at him in annoyance. “It was hundreds of years ago. But I do know who that daimyo was. It was…”

“The Matsudaira clan,” Minamoto Kiyomoto flicked the travel brochure in his hand. “It’s written here.”

“Brother Kiyomoto, walk faster! I want to eat matcha ice cream!” Uehara Moe was almost there.

The place in front of them, called Kikugetsu-tei, was more like a teahouse. According to the travel brochure, this was indeed the place where the Matsudaira clan used to entertain distinguished guests and enjoy the scenery.

“For only 700 yen, you can enjoy the life of an ancient nobleman. Not bad, a bargain,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said to the two miko with a smile.

Kamibayashi Miko had no opinion, but looking at her expression, although she hadn’t spoken much all day—she was usually like this—she was in a good mood.

Himemiya Izayoi, on the other hand, sighed.

“I live the life of a nobleman at home. You take me out to play, and the result is ‘spending money to enjoy the life of a nobleman.’ It’s like a spider lily going to see a red spider lily and a red spider lily,” she said.

“Spider lily? Red spider lily, red spider lily?” Minamoto Kiyomoto didn’t know much about flowers.

“They’re the same flower,” Himemiya Izayoi said perfunctorily.

“…Shaved ice? Matcha ice cream?”

“Shaved ice.”

“Miss Kamibayashi?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked Kamibayashi Miko again.

“Ice cream.”

“Moe…”

Before Teacher Minamoto could finish his words, student Uehara Moe raised her hand and said, “I want both!”

“You guys go in first. I’ll go and queue up to buy,” he said.

When he was buying, he bought an extra portion of ice cream and red bean shaved ice and gave them to Shirako and the little butterfly.

The four of them sat on the tatami terrace with a roof. Below the terrace was the river water flowing down from the mountain.

Shirako took off her shoes and sat on the bow of the black-canopied boat, washing her feet and occasionally licking her ice cream.

The little butterfly sat beside her, her legs still half a meter away from the water.

This was a pleasure boat that required an extra fee. On the boat were four tourists wearing straw hats and a staff member who was poling the boat.

It was scorching hot outside, but cool and breezy in the pavilion.

Eating ice cream, with a cool view, they stayed in the courtyard for nearly an hour.

After leaving Ritsurin Garden, they bought a skateboard on the way, and finally went to Yashima.

Yashima was not an island, but a mountain.

The mountain was very quiet. Even the chirping of cicadas and birds was part of the silence.

On both sides of the road up the mountain, weeds swayed, and the branches of the trees overhead intertwined, almost forming a tunnel.

Halfway up the mountain, a squirrel darted out of the bushes, stood by the side of the road in a daze, glanced at the few of them, and then, as if it had gone to the wrong toilet, it hurriedly darted back into the forest.

“A mouse!” Shirako and the little butterfly chased after it.

‘That’s a squirrel,’ Minamoto Kiyomoto said in his heart.

Behind him, Uehara Moe, who was on a skateboard, grabbed Minamoto Kiyomoto’s shoulder from behind and used him as a rickshaw.

“Is there anything fun on the mountain?” Himemiya Izayoi held a blade of grass in her hand. Her small face under the sunglasses was snow-white, and her legs were long and slender.

Without looking at her coiled classical long hair, she was a completely beautiful urban girl.

Minamoto Kiyomoto opened the travel brochure.

“Let me see… there’s Yashima-ji Temple, an aquarium, you can overlook the Seto Inland Sea, the entire Takamatsu city, and you can also see the Seto Ohashi Bridge in the distance.”

“That’s it?”

“And a row of torii gates.”

“Kyoto, the torii gates of Fushimi Inari-taisha, are endless. It takes more than 3 hours to walk through that torii gate tunnel. You, who were born in Kyoto, are asking me to see what ‘a row of torii gates’?”

“Are you on your period today?” Minamoto Kiyomoto closed the travel brochure and asked her.

“What do you mean?” Himemiya Izayoi pressed her sunglasses with her finger, and her obsidian-like eyes stared at him.

“I vaguely feel that you seem to be deliberately going against me today. If it’s your period, just tell me directly. As a doctor, I don’t care about these things.”

“Stupid!” Himemiya Izayoi put her sunglasses back on. “Of course it’s because you wrote a love letter to Miko but not to me. I’m angry.”

“Oh—” Uehara Moe let out a surprised cheer.

“How can you write a love letter to two people at the same time? I’m not a scumbag,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

“It’s not okay to write a love letter to two people, but it’s okay to write a love letter to another woman when you have a girlfriend?” Himemiya Izayoi asked.

“Huh?” Uehara Moe poked her head out from Minamoto Kiyomoto’s shoulder. “Brother Kiyomoto, are you dating Sister Izayoi? You want to have two beauties all to yourself. What about me?”

“What about you?” Minamoto Kiyomoto took her hand away and walked a few steps forward.

Uehara Moe kicked off with her foot, and the skateboard shot forward. She nimbly caught up and put her hand on Minamoto Kiyomoto’s shoulder again.

“I also want to find a beautiful girlfriend like Sister Izayoi and Sister Miko.”

“Your Brother Kiyomoto wants one too.”

“Yes, yes! Here!” Himemiya Izayoi brought her face closer and pointed at herself.

“Izayoi, you’re very beautiful, but the one I like is Miss Kamibayashi,” Minamoto Kiyomoto moved a few steps away from her.

Being too close to that stunningly beautiful face was not good for the heart, whether you loved her or not.

Himemiya Izayoi pouted her tender lips. Just as she was about to speak, a group of people came from behind, all wearing the same attire: white clothes, conical hats, and vajra staffs.

On the conical hats were written in Chinese characters—”Two People Traveling Together.”

What caught the attention of Minamoto Kiyomoto and the others was not them, but the shikigami beside them. There were monkeys, snakes, turtles, cows, Buddhist beads, relics, pagodas, and humanoids.

Those shikigami that could wear clothes were all wearing white clothes; those that could wear hats were wearing conical hats; those that could hold things were holding vajra staffs;

Those that could not wear clothes were simply wrapped in a piece of white cloth.

In the real world, there were only five people, but with the shikigami, it was a mighty procession.

“These people are here on a pilgrimage,” Uehara Moe said.

Master Kobo, who was born in Shikoku, carried out harsh cultivation methods such as the “Kokuzo Gumonjiho” on this land.

One of the cultivation methods was to sit in a cave facing the sea, not eating, only drinking water, for a full forty-nine days.

After this, his face already had the light of a Buddha. He was the undisputed number one in the Japanese Buddhist world, so he changed his surname to ‘Kukai’ and went to the Tang Dynasty as a Kentoshi.

Next, in the Qinglong Temple in Chang’an, he learned everything about Esoteric Buddhism from Master Huiguo.

After that, he achieved the Vajra, brought back the “Vajrasekhara Sutra” and the “Mahavairocana Sutra” to Japan, was summoned by the “Lord of Kyoto” at that time, and was granted Mount Koya. From then on, Mount Koya became the main mountain of the Esoteric Buddhist sect in all of Japan.

And the 88 temples where he cultivated in Shikoku are known as the Shikoku 88 Temple Pilgrimage.

The so-called pilgrimage is to follow in the footsteps of Master Kukai, visit the 88 temples, and carry out the harsh cultivation that Master Kukai did back then.

The “Two People Traveling Together” written on the conical hats did not refer to the companions on the pilgrimage, but to the pilgrim himself and Master Kukai, meaning: Master Kukai is with me.

For ordinary people, the pilgrimage is to pray for the health and safety of their families, or to temper their will, or for tourism; for cultivators, it is a real cultivation.

The five pilgrims in front of them were both men and women, and all of them were expressionless.

Besides “Two People Traveling Together,” a gatha was also written on the conical hats: “Because of delusion, the three realms are a city; because of enlightenment, the ten directions are empty; originally there is no east or west, where is there a north or south.”

The pilgrims with such a gatha on their heads were showing their determination—not to fear life and death, to transcend life and death.

The 88 temples, each representing a painful cultivation, there have been no more than ten cultivators who have persevered and survived the entire journey.

In other words, since the beginning of the pilgrimage, for more than 1,200 years, there has been less than one person who has completed the pilgrimage every one hundred years.

The five monks and their shikigami walked over. When they passed by Minamoto Kiyomoto and the others, they all bowed and then, without a word, continued towards Yashima-ji Temple at the top of the mountain.

Uehara Moe didn’t feel that anything was wrong, just thought that monks liked to bow to people.

When the pilgrims were gone, the few of them also started walking and continued to climb the mountain.

Soon, occasionally looking up, in a patch of dense green, the eaves of the temple could be vaguely seen.

Entering the mountain gate, they saw numerous Buddha statues, both stone and bronze.

Beside the main hall was the row of red torii gates that Minamoto Kiyomoto had mentioned before—there were very few, only a dozen or so.

Beside the torii gates were two stone statues of tanuki (probably).

The temple was filled with warm sunlight. The stone tables and stools in the courtyard were dazzlingly white, as if they were emitting a soft white light.

Even the roof tiles seemed to have been warmed by the sun.

When Minamoto Kiyomoto and the others were at the Shishinoreiwa Observation Deck, looking at the Seto Inland Sea, a group of monks suddenly walked over.

The leader was wearing a black kasaya and looked to be about forty years old.

They first bowed to Kamibayashi Miko and Himemiya Izayoi, then to Minamoto Kiyomoto.

“Lord Minamoto.”

“Hello,” Minamoto Kiyomoto also nodded slightly.

“Welcome to Yashima for sightseeing,” the monk said.

“Is there something?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked directly. Uehara Moe’s eyes beside him were filled with confusion.

The monk explained his purpose, wanting to invite Minamoto Kiyomoto to give a lecture.

Because of Minamoto Nagatoku and the others, the matter of him entering the second turning of the “Mahavairocana Sutra” had long since spread.

“A lecture is out of the question. I’ll do a lesson with you,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

The monk did not force him. Although he did not understand his intention, he immediately agreed.

Following these people to Yashima-ji Temple, Uehara Moe couldn’t help but ask secretly, “Brother Kiyomoto, why are they inviting you to give a lecture?”

“Because I’m a student at the University of Tokyo.”

“But you’re studying medicine?”

“Do you know about the Medicine Master Buddha?”

Uehara Moe held her skateboard with her left hand and scratched the back of her head with her right, confused.

Entering the Buddhist hall, someone had already gathered all the monks of the temple. The pilgrims who were temporarily cultivating at Yashima-ji Temple had also come.

“Let the tourists who want to visit or participate also come,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

“Okay,” the monk who should be the abbot nodded in agreement.

“I’m going,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said to the two miko.

“Are you becoming a monk?” Himemiya Izayoi asked with a smile.

“Although I can still marry a wife even if I become a monk, I’d rather not. I don’t like places with too many men,” Minamoto Kiyomoto walked to the head of the table and sat on the cushion that the abbot had arranged for him.

The Buddhist hall was crowded with people, with Minamoto Kiyomoto at the head, spreading out like a scallop.

Kamibayashi Miko, Himemiya Izayoi, and Uehara Moe stood at the far right of the Buddhist hall.

Outside the door, tourists looked on with curiosity.

Incense smoke curled up, and the offerings were to Shakyamuni, Guanyin, Ksitigarbha, and Master Kukai was at the bottom.

Minamoto Kiyomoto picked up the wooden mallet and struck the wooden fish.

“Thud!”

Heaven and earth were silent.

“This day has passed, and life is also reduced. Like a fish in little water, what joy is there?”

“Everyone!”

“One should be diligent and vigorous, as if saving a burning head. Just be mindful of impermanence, and be careful not to be lax.”

His voice was quiet, with a lingering charm.

In an instant, although he did not use any divine power, his whole person was bright and shining, full of Buddha-nature.

The people in the Buddhist hall almost had an illusion, as if they had seen a Buddha.

All the monks, unable to help themselves, began to recite the “Gatha of Warning to the World” in unison.

The main hall buzzed, the syllables dense, and the atmosphere was solemn.

The tourists stood outside the door and listened. They only felt that the momentum was astonishing, like a mountain collapsing and a sea overturning, as if the whole world was chanting sutras.

They couldn’t hear the specific content of the chanting clearly, but when they heard it, their hearts calmed down, and they felt a comfortable sense of satisfaction.

Everyone was intoxicated, feeling that this was the voice of the Buddha, the words of an immortal.

However, at a certain moment, Minamoto Kiyomoto suddenly stopped.

Everyone woke up with a start, a sense of emptiness in their hearts. They looked at the person at the head of the table with confusion.

I saw Minamoto Kiyomoto looking at the roof. Everyone looked and saw that it was a lost bird.

The bird flew back and forth on the roof, circling above Shakyamuni’s head, looking for a way out.

Perhaps it was because the Buddhist hall suddenly became quiet, or perhaps it was tired, but the bird landed on the palm of the Buddha statue’s hand, which was in the gesture of holding a flower.

It hopped in the Buddha’s palm. The solemnity of religion and the beauty of life, at that moment, they fit together and shone on each other.

Everyone held their breath and did not dare to disturb the seriously watching Minamoto Kiyomoto.

“What did you see?” Only Himemiya Izayoi asked.

Minamoto Kiyomoto smiled and replied, “There are stars in the sky, dew on the ground, a Tathagata above, and a flying bird below.”

The divine light surged, transcendent and otherworldly.

In the eyes of the cultivators, they only felt that Minamoto Kiyomoto was glowing with a golden light, ethereal and profound, with a Buddha’s light hanging behind his head.

He sat there, but he was like a Buddha hanging in the void, unfathomable.

In the eyes of ordinary people, it was the afternoon sun, passing through the treetops in the forest, passing through the Buddhist hall, and exclusively sprinkling its light on Minamoto Kiyomoto, making him shine brightly.

No one knew what he had comprehended.

After finishing the lesson, at the request of the abbot, Minamoto Kiyomoto recalled his state of mind during his epiphany and wrote a gatha:
“Reciting three thousand gathas is not as good as a bird landing on the Buddha’s head. The Tathagata has no precepts.”

The brushstrokes were firm, the spirit was flying, and there was even a hint of something that could be called ‘domineering’.

The Tathagata has no precepts, which not only refers to the Tathagata of the Great Sun, but also to himself.

At that time, the twenty-year-old Minamoto Kiyomoto did not yet know the principle of “the self-nature of the nine turnings of the Mahavairocana Sutra is empty,” and only believed that he was the only one.

(End of Chapter)