You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

The bell tolled clearly and melodiously; it didn't come from inside the ears, nor did it come from outside.

It seemed to rise from her chest, emanating from her heart.

She was startled.

In an instant, she found herself no longer on that muddy street corner.

She was standing in a strange place.

There was no sky above, no ground beneath, and soft, indescribable light from all directions.

The light was like a rainbow shattered and scattered in the air, with red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and violet intertwined, making it impossible to distinguish where the beginning or the end was, like a luminous river without source or end.

There is a city in the distance.

The city was golden, with towering walls that reached into the clouds. There were no gates on the walls, only continuous, wave-like golden patterns, like flowing Sanskrit or a frozen heartbeat.

A rainbow, with its seven distinct colors, hangs above the city, spanning from one end to the other, like a giant, unyielding bridge.

Along the riverbank outside the city, lush green plants grow in abundance, their leaves a translucent, glassy color, revealing golden sap flowing within.

The flowers are as big as washbasins, and each layer is a different color: red that's almost purple, purple that's almost blue, blue that's almost emerald, and emerald that's almost shiny.

A tiny elf sat in the flower's heart. Upon seeing Hong, it flew up from the flower's heart, fluttering its wings and circling and dancing around her, scattering fragments of golden light that landed on her hair, shoulders, and palms, warm and ticklish, like the first breeze of spring.

They surrounded her, their voices as faint as the fluttering of mosquitoes' wings, yet countless tiny voices combined to form a warm, joyful wave that made one want to shed tears.

"Welcome, welcome, you who suffer."

"Welcome, welcome, you who are drowning in the sea of ​​suffering."

Hearing the gentle comforting voices of the elves, Hong's tears finally fell.

Is she suffering?

Of course she's suffering.

Her husband inexplicably became possessed, transforming from a spirited young master of the Niu family into a madman she didn't even recognize.

After his son's accident, the father-in-law was so distressed that he fell ill and passed away not long after.

The once-great Niu family, with its wealth accumulated over generations, was on the verge of collapse.

Some members of the clan wanted to divide the property, and some shopkeepers wanted to start their own businesses. Creditors, hearing the news, began to gather at the door every day to demand payment.

It was she who stood up when everyone thought the Niu family was about to collapse.

She was a stay-at-home wife who had always been devoted to her husband, children, and household chores, and had never been involved in business before. Yet, she gritted her teeth and took over those account books, running from shop to shop and talking to each shopkeeper.

She learned to read accounts, calculate profits, and deal with those old foxes.

But she couldn't stop the rumors and gossip.

"The Niu family is cursed by her."

Some say she has a tough fate, bringing misfortune to her husband and father-in-law, causing Niu Lanshan to go mad and Old Master Niu to die.

"Look at her, as soon as her father-in-law died, she took over the household. Wasn't this all planned long ago?"

Some say she's just putting on an act, pretending to be protecting her husband's business while actually slowly pocketing the Niu family's assets.

"How could a woman have such great abilities? There must be someone behind her." Some people said even harsher things, saying that she had a lover for a long time and conspired to harm the Niu family father and son in order to seize the family property.

She heard it.

She heard every single word. But she couldn't cry, couldn't get angry, and couldn't explain herself to anyone.

Explanation is a cover-up, and a cover-up implies that the fact is true.

She could only sit alone in her tent late at night, facing a solitary lamp, and confront the gossip.

How many doctors did she consult in order to cure Niu Lanshan?

She herself couldn't remember.

She invited people from the city, the countryside, and even other counties—anyone with a bit of fame.

Some doctors shook their heads and sighed, some prescribed medicine but it had no effect, some couldn't even understand the pulse, and some said directly, "This is hysteria, it can't be cured by medicine."

She didn't believe it, so she went to see those sorcerers, Taoist priests, and shamans. As a result, she was deceived, swindled, and fooled by people pretending to be a ghost.

She is really tired.

The exhaustion of having no one to rely on, no one to share the burden with, and not even anyone to confide in.

She gets up before dawn every day, settles Niu Lanshan in, and then goes to the shop, the accounting office, and to meet those people with their own agendas.

She had to smile at everyone, be polite to everyone, and say to everyone, "It's okay, everything will be alright."

But at night, lying on her empty bed, listening to Niu Lanshan's babbling and shouting in the neighboring yard, she often stayed awake until dawn, wondering when this would end.

She was really afraid that she would break down one day.

But she didn't break down. She dared not break down. The Niu family couldn't fall, and Niu Lanshan couldn't be left unattended.

She was like a string stretched too tight, trembling at its limit every day, yet never breaking.

Now, hearing the elves' kind words, the emotions that had been building up inside her for so long suddenly burst forth.

"Come with us, come with us." The fairies danced around her, their golden light falling on her tear-streaked face. "Here, you will no longer suffer."

They carried her across that river of light, through those colorful plants and trees, and through that golden city.

In the very center of the city, a bell hangs.

The bell, hanging there, made one feel that it must be so large as to be boundless.

The bells rang softly, carrying the sound she had heard.

Amidst the tolling of bells, she heard the cries of a newborn child, the suona horns of a bride being carried to her sedan chair, the mournful music of white-haired people sending off their black-haired children, the clamor of merchants haggling, the ditties hummed by farmers on the ridges of fields, the laughter of women washing clothes by the river, and the final breaths of an old man on his sickbed.

Countless voices, countless lives, countless joys and sorrows, all come together and merge into a boundless, unfathomable expanse of shared joys and sorrows for all.

She suddenly understood as the bells rang.

"All sentient beings suffer. No one can save them. Only by using the inexhaustible power of sentient beings to achieve the Alaya consciousness can one see Amala."

Those words weren't told to her by others; she figured them out herself.

"I understand! I understand!" she cried with joy.

At that moment, she finally understood.

Another moment of disorientation.

She found herself still on that muddy street corner, kneeling before the beggar.

But the beggar before her was no longer a beggar; his eyes were filled with boundless compassion as he said, "Do you understand?"

Hong nodded: "Sage, I understand."

"Good." The beggar placed his hand on her head. "The sea of ​​suffering is boundless; only by saving ourselves can we deliver all beings. Only by making boundless vows can we save all people."

Hong then said, "Follow the great vow and deliver all those suffering in the sea of ​​misery."