I searched for corpses in the Wuding River to extract entries

At this time, Maha was wearing a cloth robe.

The host walked up to Maha and looked him up and down, with a hint of curiosity in his eyes:
"Donor, I see that you have an extraordinary bearing and your behavior exudes an extraordinary aura."

"The donor must not be an ordinary person in this world. I wonder why the donor wants to become a monk?"

Maha put his hands together, bowed slightly and replied, "Only to find inner peace."

The host nodded and then asked, "In the eyes of the donor, where is the Buddha?"

"The snow falls without a trace." Maha looked at the fragrant mist floating in front of the shrine.

He couldn't help but think of the monk who cut off his meat to feed the tiger: "The Buddha is in the place where sentient beings are hungry and cold."

There was a glimmer of surprise in the host's eyes. He didn't expect Maha to have such profound insights.

He frowned slightly and continued to ask: "If all living beings are suffering, why doesn't Buddha save them?"

Maha clasped his hands and said, "The Buddha has saved me."

The host asked, "What do you mean by this, benefactor?"

Maha then said, "When snow covers the mountains and plains, a well-fed tiger will not hurt anyone for three days."

The host was slightly startled when he heard this, and then he sighed:
"The donor is not a creature in a pond. This mind is like a mirror, reflecting the confusion of all living beings."

"But becoming a monk is no joke. Have you thought it through?"

Maha knelt before the Buddha without hesitation. He raised his head and looked at the Buddha statue:

"Master, I have made up my mind. From now on, I wish to be accompanied by the ancient Buddha, practice diligently, and save all living beings."

The host nodded and lit the fire in the copper basin.
He turned around, picked up the razor beside him, and slowly walked behind Maha.

Suddenly, the blade in the host's hand stopped beside his ear.

The old monk lowered his wrist slightly, and the blade cut off the first lock of Maha's black hair:
"Since the donor has completely cut off all the three thousand strands of worries, is it possible to cut off the worries in your heart?"

Maha lowered his eyes and clasped his hands together: "The thread of worry has been cut off, just like the ice on the mirror lake has been broken. Although the moon's shadow is broken, the clear light is still clear."

At this time, the candlelight in the Buddhist temple flickered in the cold wind, emitting a faint light.
"I can't save you." The abbot sighed and said, "The donor's Buddha is not here."

Maha stretched out his hand to catch the falling hair and said, "There is no Buddha outside, so my Buddha is merciful."

The abbot remained silent and continued to ordain Maha.

Slowly, Maha's black hair fell into the copper basin, was swallowed by the flames, and burned to ashes.

The last knife passed right by Maha’s head.

The abbot placed the razor on Maha's head and said:
"Donor, from today on, you will cut off all ties with this world and devote yourself to Buddhism."

"I hope you can stick to your original intention and not be confused by the troubles of the world."

Maha nodded and asked, "I see that all of us ascetics have Dharma names."

"Please give me a Dharma name, so that I can follow the Dharma."

The abbot simply shook his head and said, "You are a very spiritual person with deep wisdom. I am afraid I am not qualified to give you a Dharma name."

"I wonder what I should call you, the donor?"

Maha said, "Maha."

The word "Maha" does not have much real meaning for Maha.

In their ancient tribal era, even writing was just beginning to appear.
Moreover, the pictographic characters clearly indicate the meaning, and each character refers to a specific object.

In that era, the word "Maha" simply meant "big".

The host was stunned and asked, "Maha?"

"Is the donor actually a Buddha who came down to earth?"

Maha immediately smiled and shook his head: "Although it sounds the same, it doesn't mean the same thing."

The host said again: "Even if the donor is not the Buddha incarnated on earth, he should be a great figure from heaven."

Maha smiled but said nothing.

After all, who could have imagined that the person standing in front of him was the greatest god in the old world?

After the rainy night, Maha's days in the temple gradually became peaceful.

During this period, the host's attention to Maha never diminished.
Moreover, as he interacted and talked with Maha, he felt more and more that the person in front of him was different from others.

The abbot believed that Maha was extremely spiritual, had a deep wisdom, and must have a natural affinity with Buddhism.

Every time the host discussed Buddhism with Maha, he could feel a unique wisdom from Maha's words.

Maha's insights into everything in the world are profound and unique, and he often hits the nail on the head, which amazes the host.

Whether it is the interpretation of Buddhist scriptures or the view of all things in the world, Maha has his own understanding.
This understanding does not come from rote memorization of books, but from deep inner feelings.

On this day, the host had another conversation with Maha.
After all, Maha had been pestering the abbot many times, asking him for a Dharma name.

They sat in the Zen room, surrounded by silence and only the occasional chirping of insects.

The abbot held up a teacup and asked Maha, "Last night the mountain temple rang the bell, the sound reached the clouds, did you hear it?"

Maha lowered his hands and said, "My disciple heard the bell ring twelve times."

The host said: "When the bell rang, did it startle the birds sleeping on the eaves?"

Maha put his hands together and said, "Three of them flew away, and two more fell."

The host gently put down the teacup and said: "If the sound of the bell scares away the troubles of sentient beings, how can we stop them?"

Maha used a bamboo stick dipped in tea to draw a circle: "Master, please look, the moon shadow in the cup sways with the waves, but it has never broken."

“Water waves arise and disappear on their own, while the moon in the sky neither increases nor decreases.

“So the Diamond Sutra says, ‘One should not dwell on anything and give rise to the mind.’”

The host suddenly poured the tea onto the ground and asked: "Where does the water go now?"

Maha smiled and said, "It seeps into the soil and moistens the grass roots, and flows into the stream and turns into clouds."

“It seems to disappear, but it is everywhere.”

The host clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Great!"

"You are in accord with the principles of all Buddhas and the opportunities of sentient beings. This should be called 'in accord with this'."

"Do you agree with this?" Maha did not say much, but just accepted it silently.

"Master." He then bowed slightly and said, "I have been feeling really bored lately. I have already memorized the daily lessons."

"I hope the abbot can arrange something else for me to do."

The host raised his eyes and his gaze fell on Maha.

He gently twisted the Buddhist beads, feeling hesitant and conflicted.

Although he thought Maha was extremely intelligent and a natural monk, he had only joined the temple not long ago.

But if he was just asked to do ordinary homework, the host was afraid that his talent would be buried.

After thinking for a long time, the abbot coughed and said, "The scriptures in the Sutra Library are vast and boundless. My disciples often read through them, but they are often confused."

"You have extraordinary wisdom. If you can go to the Sutra Library and answer questions for other disciples, it will help you to improve your character. What do you think?"

A gleam of light flashed in Maha's eyes, and he responded happily: "I am willing to go, and I will not let the abbot down." Early the next morning, Maha came to the Sutra Repository.

The Sutra Library is filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and the aroma of old paper.

Rows of bookshelves are filled with scriptures.
The sunlight shines through the carvings on the window lattices, casting fine shadows.

Soon, a young monk about ten years old came running over.
He was quite surprised when he saw Maha, and asked, "Where is Master Xingyue?"

Maha said, "The abbot sent him to walk down the mountain."

Walking down the mountain is hard work, but it is also a must for every monk.

The novice monk nodded and said, "Are you the brother Qieci who just became a monk? I heard the abbot praise you to the master."

Maha nodded without saying much, and continued reading the scriptures in his hand.

The novice monk was a little anxious at this moment: "Master wants to test me on some scriptures, but Uncle Xingyue has gone down the mountain. What should I do?"

Maha asked, "Scriptures? You can also ask me."

The novice monk was somewhat surprised and asked, "But didn't you become a monk not long ago?"

Maha smiled and said, "Before I became a monk, I read a lot of scriptures."

The novice monk nodded as if he understood, and asked, "Then I'll trouble you, Senior Brother Maha!"

"I have recently been studying the Lotus Sutra, but I find it difficult to comprehend the principle of 'the true nature of all dharmas'. I hope you can give me some pointers."

Maha nodded slightly, motioning the little monk to sit down.

Then he took out a commentary on the Lotus Sutra from the bookshelf and opened it.

His eyes were as sharp as torches, scanning between the lines.

After a moment, he said, "Junior brother, the so-called 'real nature of all dharmas' is not out of reach."

"Look at the scriptures in this Sutra Repository. Each one is unique in its own way, yet they all contain the wisdom of Buddhism."

“This is just like all things in the world, each has its own form and nature, but in essence they are all empty, and are all born from the combination of causes and conditions.”

As he spoke, he picked up a brush from the table and drew a circle on the paper:

"This circle is like the 'real nature of all things'. It has no fixed form, but it can contain everything."

"We practice to find this 'truth' in this seemingly complicated world."

The young monk listened attentively, his frown gradually relaxed, and a look of sudden enlightenment appeared in his eyes:
"Thank you, brother. I seem to understand."

An older disciple who was sitting on the side and listening was also very surprised.

After all, although the previous "Uncle Xingyue" was good at explaining the scriptures, he was not as clear as what Maha said.
When he saw the novice monk leaving, he also came over and asked, "Brother Maha, may I ask you a question?"

When the elder monk saw Maha nod, he also said, "I have read the 'Seven Places to Investigate the Mind' in the Shurangama Sutra many times, but I still don't quite understand it."

"Please help me solve this puzzle."

Maha narrowed his eyes slightly and fell into deep thought.

After a while, he stood up and walked to the window, pointing to the green mountains and clear water outside the window, and said:

"Brother, look at everything in this world. Mountains are mountains, water is water, but in our hearts, what are they?"

The disciple was stunned: "Aren't mountains just mountains, and isn't water just water?"

Mo He shook his head and continued, "The so-called 'Seven Places to Search for the Heart' requires us to find where this 'heart' is."

“It is neither inside nor outside nor in between.”

"Because our hearts are just like this void, omnipresent and yet nowhere to be found."

"Our obsession with finding a specific 'heart' is like trying to catch the moon in the water; it will ultimately be in vain."

After hearing this, the disciple nodded slightly and murmured to himself:
"Neither inside, nor outside, nor in the middle... I see. Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother."

As the days passed, Maha answered questions and resolved doubts for many disciples in the Sutra Library.
His explanations were simple and profound, with extensive citations, which not only helped his disciples gain a deeper understanding of Buddhism but also increased his reputation in the temple.

When the abbot heard the disciples' praise of Maha, his worries gradually dissipated.
A gratified smile appeared on his face: "Qieci really lived up to my expectations. With time, he will surely achieve great success in Buddhism."

In the temple, the days pass by quietly like the gurgling water.

Maha practiced here every day, between the morning bells and evening drums, meditated beside the green lamp and ancient Buddha, and constantly explained the key points of the scriptures to his disciples.
And sometimes, even the host would ask him to explain the scriptures.

Even monks from other temples heard the news and rushed over out of amazement to sit and discuss the Dharma with Maha.

As a result, Maha gradually became famous, and even the "Foyin Temple" where he lived became famous.
There are even rumors that a real Buddha descended to the mortal world and hid himself in the "Foyin Temple", which is why it got this name.

Maha just laughed it off and didn't take it too seriously.

However, this also made the incense of Foyin Temple gradually more prosperous, and the number of ordinary people coming to burn incense and worship Buddha every day increased by many more than in the past.

On this day, Maha was reading scriptures in the Sutra Repository as usual.

He was dressed in a simple monk's robe, walking slowly between the bookshelves.

Then he picked up a scripture and sat down quietly.

He gently opened the scripture and scanned the lines word by word.

What the scriptures describe is the result of karma.

The lines of explanation about the cycle of cause and effect and the retribution of karma,

Normally, it seems nothing special to him.
But today, to Maha, it was like ripples on the surface of a calm lake, stirring up waves in his heart.

When Maha saw this, many images suddenly flashed through his mind.

Those past experiences in Brahma, those bloody scenes, distorted doctrines,

He couldn't help but sigh deeply for the countless lives that were hurt because of him.

He seemed to see blood splattered everywhere and wailing everywhere.
Countless innocent lives were lost directly or indirectly because of him.

Even though it was because the skull of sin controlled his heart, Maha could not forget it after all these years.

Those sins were like shackles that kept him tossing and turning in sleep for countless nights.

He knew very well that the mistakes he had made could not be easily erased by just saying "being controlled".

At this moment, Maha suddenly had an idea, which was to write a scripture of his own!

He longed to be able to wash away his sins in some way.

He hopes to record his repentance, his understanding of karma, and his insights into Buddhism through writing.

It is not only a reflection on one's past crimes, but also a hope to provide some warnings and guidance to others.

Once this idea came into his mind, it quickly took root and sprouted like a seed in his heart.

Maha took out a blank scripture and placed it on the desk.

He sat down, staring quietly at the white paper, his thoughts drifting far away.

He recalled his life, from his past loss to his present awakening.

Maha dipped the brush in ink and slowly placed the first stroke on the paper.

The moment the brush touches the paper, a slight rustling sound is heard.
In order to fit his past, he picked up his pen and wrote down the three characters "Repentance Sutra". (End of this chapter)