嵩山腳下,冬日收得早。
日頭剛滑過山脊,少林寺的琉璃簷角便已蒙上一層青灰的薄暮,山道兩側的古柏在寒風中一動不動,像是在執勤的老衛兵,肅穆而沉默。一行五人自山腰快馬而來,最前一騎打著素色暗紋的旗幡,旗幡上不繡字、不繡圖,唯有一道暗金滾邊,識貨的人見了,便知那不是尋常公差的派頭。
守山門的小沙彌迎上去,正要合掌問詢,那旗幡後頭的人已翻身落馬,打懷中掏出一枚平頭方印遞過來,一字未說。
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