Song Xiang knew Yan Han, but he didn't believe in these ghosts and gods. She reminded him that she didn't want him to waste his money. She just wanted to simply put on the stick incense, not the top incense.
When we arrived near the temple, the procession of honoring the gods was so packed that it stretched for at least two miles, all offering incense.
The car couldn't be driven in, so Yan Han protected Song Xiang and walked inside.
As expected, the village chief came up, and his words alluded to the meaning of the first fragrance, and he just wanted to bring glory to the village.
Yan Han arranged Song Xiang to a quiet room next to him, as if he wanted to take a call.
Although Song Xiang was clinging to him, he was much better than yesterday and he let go obediently.
The prayers in the main hall were not over yet, and monks in cassocks were kneeling on the ground. The sound of chanting sutras mixed with the ringing of bells made people feel calm for no reason.
The quiet room where Song Xiang stayed was a little far away from the main hall, but the foundation was higher, with an old tree in the middle. Walking up to the second floor, you could just clearly see the scene in front of the main hall.
With three consecutive blasts of firecrackers, the prayer finally ended.
The huge incense was carried to the center and first inserted into the incense burner in front of the temple.
The crowd was talking about who was burning the incense.
Song Xiang had no intention of joining in the fun and just watched.
Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet came from below.
The host keeps up with modern technology, uses loudspeakers to amplify the sound, reports the merit list, and determines the winner of the first incense.
Song Xiang just waited for the procedure to end and simply burned incense sticks, feeling as calm as water.
Suddenly, there was movement below.
"Ms. Song Xiang, donate one million."
The voice came clearly, and Song Xiang was stunned.
The bottom is already boiling. According to previous years, two to three hundred thousand yuan can win the top spot. Why has it increased so much this year?
Song Xiang held on to the railing, quickly turned around and looked at Yan Song, "What's going on?"
Yan Song nodded, "The young master donated it for you."
Song Xiang was helpless, "I don't want it, I just want to simply put some incense on it."
Yan Song shook his head, "You offer your incense, and the young master offers the young master's incense."
"What?"
Song Xiang was confused and looked in the direction of the main hall again.
The crowd automatically cleared the way, and a man with an air that was completely incompatible with his surroundings came out. He was wearing a tailored black suit, which made him stand tall and tall, and made him look extraordinary.
Song Xiang recognized it at first glance, it was Yan Han.
Whatever he does, he doesn't believe this at all.
His hands slowly tightened on the railing, his eyes felt hot, and he wanted to look away, but he was afraid of missing every scene of Yan Han.
In front of the main hall.
The man walked to the huge incense burner.
The host placed the blessed amulet in his palm and prayed in front of him.
The incense is lit and the cigarette smoke curls up.
The golden Buddha in the hall is solemn, as if looking at the kneeling people.
He is a staunch materialist and does not believe in gods or Buddhas. He abandoned his faith for many years, knelt down in front of the Buddha, and prayed to a faith he did not trust.
I hope his troubled lover will have a smooth life from now on.
Separated from the cigarettes and the shadow of the trees, Song Xiang stood on the second floor of the quiet room, watching Yan Han kneel down and bow respectfully three times. Each time, he touched the ground with his forehead, and his piety reached the point of simplicity.
The sound of chanting started again, and the incense was finished. Pilgrims came forward one after another, hoping to catch a trace of Buddha nature before the incense burned out.
Yan Han went against the flow of people and walked down the steps in front of the main hall, heading straight towards the quiet room.
Song Xiang stood outside, listening to the movement on the wooden stairs, turned around, and saw Yan Han walking up the stairs.
"You...didn't I tell you not to donate?"
"You don't want to smell good, I guess."
He came over and led her into the room.
Song Xiang was close to him and could still smell the incense on his body.
Yan Han stopped and spread his palms in front of her.
Song Xiang took a closer look and saw that it was a safety button.
"I asked the Bodhisattva three times to ask for it, but he still had to remember it."