Journey to a Chinese temple. Part 1

I was walking somewhere in the mountains of China. The trail was rather difficult, nevertheless, I made my way briskly and, despite the long journey, the road never ceased to seem interesting and fresh to me. At that time I was 42 years old, I was full of strength and experience, strong built and this was not my first trip.

The path itself was familiar to me and in many ways was my home. I come to such places as if I were meeting friends, and in many ways – with myself. It is interesting that when you explore the external world, it turns out that at the same time you explore the internal world. The work of a researcher has both advantages and disadvantages, but I will remember that meeting for a long time.

Having climbed the next hillock, I went out into a small clearing. As elsewhere in the mountains, it was not perfectly flat, but it was not a natural continuation of the slope of the seemingly endless mountains.

I saw a girl, 25 years old. She was filling a flask from a stream. The water cast glare in the sun, and they gave the scene a sparkle. She was lovely. Light red hair fell to the shoulders, covering the back to the shoulder blades. She was wearing a light-colored T-shirt, beige short shorts and high boots. Slender legs were immediately noticeable, she was graceful and dynamic. Casting a glance at me, she was not frightened, rather just interested and continued to do what she was doing.

I went up to her. She was about my height, fair-skinned, wide hips, small breasts, and neat little nipples stood out through the shirt. She had a long neck, small dimples on her cheeks and stunningly beautiful blue eyes. When I looked in them I had the feeling that I was looking at a waterfall, iridescent and sparkling from the sun, alive and raging, wild, and at the same time elusively fragile and sensitive.

It turned out that she also travels, but she does other things. If I researched the history and lives of people more, then she researched life as such. Her path, surprisingly, lay in the same place as mine. We both went to an ancient temple, but I followed history, and she followed a flower that grows only in this temple in order to try to plant it in other places. Although it might seem a trifle to someone, nevertheless, I saw something deep in it. Indeed, it is very powerful and wise when you can see living beauty, preserve and multiply this life, cherish it and see in it more than others.

We decided to brighten each other’s road. I helped her like a man. She showed some kind of feminine tenderness. The path brought us very close. She naturally became a part of my journey and I wanted to be closer to her. In the evenings I liked to admire her and her petty habits, and how she softly hummed something while doing the most common camp activities. This added poetry to the usual travel routine. Sometimes I sang along with her, and sometimes I just listened. I loved her voice and her hair that was always falling on her face. And when we went somewhere together, I looked at her sweaty legs and arms and it worried me as a man. I thought about her and more and more thoughts spun around that I want her.

Finally we reached the temple. The widest stone steps majestically marked the entrance to this sacred space. The columns and the roof of a specific Chinese shape gave this place beauty, naturalness and grace.

The temple itself looked almost like a continuation of the mountain, and stood out only for its rectangular shapes. I don’t know who invented the multi-tiered roofs, but it was clearly a genius! In front of the massive wooden doors to the temple itself, the monks were waiting for us. They made us feel welcome and escorted us to our chambers. We threw off our things, changed clothes, then the monks showed us the bathroom, although it could rather be called a hall, and kindly left, leaving us to be quietly accommodated.

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