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Updated: June 14, 2025
At the extreme western end of the one long street we found comfortable quarters in a new, clean inn. Like so many of these villages of wood with shingled roofs, Wa Ssu Kou seems to burn down once in so often, which has at least the advantage that there is less chance for dirt to accumulate.
Just now he swayed along with a pair of heavy baskets slung on a bamboo all the way from Wu Shu, as the pilgrim under his load of sin, and as he swayed he sang in a weak falsetto a ditty which sounded like "Nam mo pen shih shih chia Man tan lai lei tsun fo; Hu fa chu t'ien p'u sa, An fu ssu, Li she tzn."
Then another turn in the road shut us in again between grey cliff and grey river and grey sky. Toward the end of the day a sharp bend to the left took us away from the Ta Tu into the wild gorge through which flows the Tarchendo, and with a rough scramble we dropped down into the pretty little village of Wa Ssu Kou, the "Ravine of the Tile Roof Monastery."
We had eleven miles of this, over a rough, uneven road, across the dusty plain, mounting gradually toward the hills through loose and rolling stones. It was a gray day, with rain threatening, and when we finally reached our temple, Je Tai Ssu, the rain began in a steady drizzle, and steadily continued. The temple was most interesting.
"Sister, do you know where our lady Secunda is gone to?" she asked. "I didn't notice," rejoined Ssu Ch'i. At this reply, Hsiao Hung turned round and cast a glance on all four quarters. Seeing T'an Ch'un and Pao-ch'ai standing by the bank of the pond on the opposite side and looking at the fish, Hsiao Hung advanced up to them.
"How is it," Hsiang-yuen inquired, "that when the K'uang people saw Confucius, they fancied it was Yang Huo?" "Confucius and Yang Huo," Pao-yue smilingly argued, "may have been alike in looks, but they hadn't the same names. Lin and Ssu were again, notwithstanding their identical names, nothing like each other in appearances.
Like all the rest Wan-nien Ssu is plainly built of timbers, and cannot compare with the picturesque curly-roofed buildings one sees in the plains below.
We found room in Wa Ssu Kou in the same "comfy" inn as before, and the welcome we received gave me a truly homelike feeling. Soon after starting the next morning we passed the funeral cortège of a Chinese official of Tachienlu, making his last long journey to his distant home two hundred li beyond Chengtu.
Yeh Ch'ien-chao, by means of the prescriptions contained in the mysterious book, could cure illnesses as easily as the sun dissipates the morning mist. One day, when he was intoxicated and had gone to bed in the temple of Chi-chou Ssu, the magistrate wished to arrest and punish him. But when he reached the steps of the yamên, Ch'ien-chao called Lei Kung to his aid.
The waif was carried to the shore of the isle of Chin Shan, on which stands the famous monastery of Chin-shan Ssu, near Chinkiang. The cries of the infant attracted the attention of an old monk named Chang Lao, who rescued it and gave it the name of Chiang Liu, 'Waif of the River. He reared it with much care, and treasured the note its mother had written with her blood.
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