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墨書 Inktalez
"Creek!"
The slightly worn door let out a mournful creak, followed by a gust of cold wind that rushed in, chilling the beggar's neck. He stared wide-eyed as the dilapidated temple door was slowly pushed open by the wind.
Inside the Ruined Temple, it was dark, but thanks to the light reflecting off the snow, he could barely make out the furnishings within. There was only an offering table, a Bodhisattva statue, and some miscellaneous items scattered about. The beggar thought that in such a rundown temple, there would be no incense offerings, yet his keen nose caught a whiff of fruit.
Rubbing his hands together, he wrapped his tattered coat tighter around himself and cautiously stepped into the Ruined Temple, following the scent of the fruit. In a corner, he spotted a fragrant melon and two pears. This melon was said to be a tribute from the outer regions, something only the Masters and Madams of the Yun Family and Hu Family could afford.
When it was still warm outside, he had slept for a few days at the foot of the Hu Family's courtyard wall. On lucky days, he would find half-eaten melons discarded by the Hu Family along with some other food. However, after the lady of the Hu Family passed away, it seemed something else happened within the family; without their master's supervision, the servants became increasingly lazy. Even after squatting outside for several days, he hadn’t found anything else to eat and had to move on feeling dejected.
Now looking at the melon before him, the beggar swallowed twice. The melon and pears must have been dragged here by mice from the offering table in the center. The pears still bore two rows of tiny mouse prints; perhaps due to winter, the bites were not deep—after nibbling two rows of teeth marks, they had given up. It was precisely because the mice couldn't finish them that he had his good fortune tonight.
He wiped the melon with his sleeve and stuffed it into his coat. He did the same with the two pears before immediately devouring them.
Before finding this Ruined Temple, he had been hungry for two days. Now smelling the fruit's aroma made him feel even hungrier; thus, he swallowed down those two pears in just a few bites. Naturally, two pears wouldn't fill him up much, but thinking about how difficult it would be to find food after tomorrow's heavy snowfall made him hold back for a moment before he couldn't resist pulling out the melon again. He patted his still-empty stomach and carefully surveyed the Ruined Temple once more. In one corner were some piles of dry grass and firewood. On the offering table lay a dirty cloth that could at least provide some cover against the cold wind if draped down. And right! The Bodhisattva statue still had some clothing on it; although they were women's garments, they would surely keep him warmer than his own tattered clothes.
With this thought in mind, he first gathered some dry grass and spread it under the offering table with care. Then using a flint he had picked up, he lit some kindling before climbing onto the offering table to strip off the Bodhisattva's garments.
Deities are worshipped by wealthy families because rich people often lack compassion; if they don’t worship deities, they feel uneasy inside. A beggar like him didn’t refrain from worshipping deities because he thought it was useless—these days, who could afford to ask for blessings without making offerings? He couldn’t even support himself; how could he provide for a Bodhisattva? So even if his heart was sincere, this lofty Bodhisattva would never look down upon him or offer any blessings.
Moreover, when one is freezing or starving to death, what is there to fear from deities? The beggar thought this as he worked quickly with his hands and soon stripped off the outer garment from the Bodhisattva.
This outer garment was made of silk; its smooth texture made him curse under his breath about how much better off this Mud Buddha was compared to poor people like him. Lowering his head to sniff it revealed an odd smell—something like incense mixed with mud and even hints of decay.
The beggar frowned; it was likely that those mice had taken a liking to this garment too and intended to wrap themselves in it as new clothes for New Year’s celebrations, which explained all these disgusting odors clinging to it. Disgusting—though truthfully, his own smell wasn’t much better. After living outdoors day after day without bathing—let alone washing his face—it took him months just to wash up once.
Putting on the robe of the Bodhisattva, the beggar reached out again to remove another piece of clothing from the Bodhisattva. This inner garment was indeed less exquisite than the outer robe; it was made of ordinary hemp cloth, rough to the touch, but much thicker than what the beggar himself wore. Just as he was about to push his fingers into the fabric, intending to strip it off in one go, a gust of cold wind began to blow continuously against him, numbing his fingers and forcing him to let go of the garment.
"Are you cold?"
A low voice whispered in the beggar's ear. A chill ran down his spine as he could almost feel the cold breath from whatever was behind him brushing against his neck.
"Who? Who's messing with me?"
The beggar turned his stiff neck slowly to look behind him. A shadowy figure flickered in the darkness, appearing quite eerie.
"You... who are you? I can tell you that this Ruined Temple is the first place I found. Don't think about stealing my spot. Also, don't try to scare me with ghosts. I've been scared my whole life; I'm not afraid of people, so why would I be afraid of a ghost?"
He suppressed his impulse to flee. Compared to seeing a ghost, he feared dying alone outside even more. If he froze to death and was buried under snow, no one would see him. When spring came and the snow melted, he would just be a pile of rotting flesh. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Although living was hard and painful, often filled with hunger and cold, he still did not want to die.
"Don't be afraid; I won't harm you. I just want to ask if you feel very cold."
The shadow stood still, unmoving. By instinct, the beggar sensed that it was a woman, even resembling the Mud Buddha in front of him somewhat. The fire in the Ruined Temple was dim and could hardly illuminate her face; he could only vaguely make out her features, which did not seem threatening.
The beggar cleared his throat and replied irritably, "Isn't that obvious? I'm wearing rags; even though it's a coat, look at these holes—it's worse than summer clothes from wealthy families."
"So that's why you want to strip me of my clothing?"
The shadow spoke again, her voice carrying a hint of shyness.
"Strip your clothes? Don't you dare slander me; when did I ever strip your clothes?" The beggar rubbed his nose vigorously, and his face, chapped from the cold wind, flushed with heat.
The beggar had just turned thirteen. If counting by the lunar calendar, he would be fourteen, which is the age for marriage in good families. Although he was orphaned and had no one to teach him about the matters between men and women, he had been out in the world long enough to know a thing or two, even if he had never experienced it himself. He understood what the teachers meant when they spoke of the propriety between men and women.
Though he was a beggar, he was a respectable one. Even when encountering female beggars who were in similar straits, he would show them respect and not bully them like other beggars who resorted to trickery or harassment. Life may have its hierarchies of wealth and status, but everyone is born of a mother. A mother is a woman. He had suffered greatly, losing both his parents at a young age and not even remembering what his mother looked like. Yet he always knew that he could not bully another person's mother, even if that person was also a beggar. Even if they were both destined never to marry or become parents, he still could not bring himself to take advantage of them. Besides, what kind of man bullies a woman?
The beggar wrinkled his nose and looked at the shadow before him. "Though I am a beggar, I disdain bullying a woman. Besides, I'm not some lecher; why would I strip your clothes? Don't slander me or think you can use this as an excuse to make me marry you. I'm still young; I can't even support myself, let alone take care of another woman."
"Ha!" The shadow laughed but remained in place. "What an interesting child you are! If I were still alive, I would truly want you as my younger brother. By the way, I once had a sister who looked very much like me. Unfortunately, our family was poor back then; our parents couldn't support us and sent us away separately. Now, I wonder where my poor sister is? If we go by age, she would actually be older than you."
"I've grown up; I'm an adult now, not a child." The beggar straightened his back and stretched his neck high as if doing so would make his frail figure appear more upright.
"Alright, alright! You are an adult now, not a child anymore. But even adults can feel cold, right? If you want my clothes, take them; I have no use for them anyway. Just please leave me one piece of clothing for modesty; after all, I am a woman and different from you men. It would be too unsightly to be completely naked all day."
"You woman! Why are you talking nonsense? When did I..." The beggar was infuriated and jumped down from the offering table. As soon as his feet hit the ground, it seemed like his mind cleared up too. He suddenly thought of the Mud Buddha high above on the offering table and turned around to look up at it. To his surprise, the Bodhisattva seemed to sense something and looked back at him with eyes that appeared to be slightly smiling.
"Oh my!" The beggar exclaimed and fell back onto the ground, pointing at the Bodhisattva in shock as he cried out: "Mine! It's mine! This Bodhisattva... it actually... it actually came to life! Clothes... clothes... right! Just now it seems like I stripped the Bodhisattva's clothes!"
The beggar muttered to himself as he raised his head to look at where the shadow had just stood. That spot was now empty. He lowered his gaze to his own feet. His shoes were also tattered, revealing several toes that were wrapped in mud but still frozen red from the cold. He sighed absentmindedly and said, "You... you are actually this Bodhisattva? I... I actually stripped the Bodhisattva's clothes right in front of it!"
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