标签：Buddhism

A Complex of Rain

It’s raining. A fine rain: there, yet almost not there. I slow my steps, feeling the tiny coolness gently seep into my skin, and the faint warmth that wells up from within my heart… Twenty years ago, so it is said, when my parents were honeymooning in Guilin, they happened to catch several days of rain—and I, as a fertilized egg, came into this world precisely in that drizzling downpour. So my name has always had to carry the character “rain”; and my feelings, too, have often been wrapped around by rain. Ten years ago, I would often lean against the wooden rail by the attic window, staring at the…