The birds of spring flitted among the green leaves of different shades,
The sound of leaves breaking through the forest made the island even more quiet.
In the study by the lake,
Xia Ji sat cross-legged under the eaves.
The courtyard outside was quiet and peaceful. Seventy-one disciples sat on seventy-one futons.
The sunlight passed through the broken leaves, casting down mottled golden rays of varying sizes, such as copper coins or washbasins. With the rustling of the wind, the light and shadow fluctuated endlessly.
Xia Ji was preaching.
What he gave to the world was an image formed by ten thousand techniques, but now he had six images, so he was teaching his disciples. As much as they could understand, it was as much as they could understand.
When he taught, he also deepened his understanding.
Time passed unknowingly, and soon it was dusk.
