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From the Record of Buddhist Monasteries: Seedling Temple.\n\nSeedling Temple rests on the eastern shade of Mount Tai and the sunny northern shore of the Great Lake. Reflected in the mountain and water, it is truly a realm of serenity. The temple was originally named Jujube Pit, established during the Zhenyuan era of the Tang Dynasty.\nIn the past, there was a commoner of Qingzhou surnamed Chen, his given name lost to time, whose family had lived in Linzi for generations. In the early Zhenyuan era, he followed his merchant father to sell jujubes in Pengcheng. After the goods were sold, his father contracted an illness and perished on the journey home. Left orphaned and helpless, the son was overcome with inconsolable grief. He sighed, "Life is but a fleeting lodging; meetings and partings are impermanent. My father died for the profit of jujubes, and I am orphaned because of jujubes. Is this not the will of Heaven?" He then shaved his head to become a monk, vanishing into the Buddhist gates.\nUpon hearing this, the local villagers were filled with pity. A village elder remarked, "Is the tragedy of the Chen family truly isolated? Where shall the orphaned children of future generations find refuge?" Thus, they pooled their funds and built a small sanctuary at the foot of Mount Tai, naming it Jujube Pit Temple. Once completed, it took in orphans, providing them with food, clothing, and the teachings of the scriptures. From then on, the homeless children of the land had a place to return to.\nThe temple sits by the mountains and waters, shaded by towering ancient trees, with winding paths leading to profound seclusion. Within are several meditation halls; though simple in form, their craftsmanship is exquisite. The zen pavilions are empty and quiet, the hidden chambers deep and still. Splendid trees line the windows, and fragrant herbs encircle the steps. Spring birds and autumn cicadas sing in succession. Though situated in the mortal realm, it feels akin to a deep ravine. Monks of quiet practice sit upright inside, living on the wind and the Dao, settling into lotus posture to count their breaths.\nBehind the temple stands an ancient jujube tree, said to have been planted by the Chen father and son. Over the years, its trunk has grown thick, its branches flourishing, yielding massive fruits. When the jujubes ripen, the monks harvest and distribute them. The orphans who eat them all feel gratitude for the Buddha's grace.\nPassing through the Five Dynasties, the temple gradually fell into ruin, and the children and monks it sheltered returned to secular life. In the early Song Dynasty, several disciples of the Inkbound Order arrived here on their academic travels. They saw dark-robed Buddhist monks residing in the temple, alongside yellow-capped Daoist priests who also registered their names there. Buddhists and Daoists mingled, each practicing their own way. The disciples told the crowd, "This mountain is imbued with spiritual grace; it is truly a place for the Three Teachings to cultivate together." A monk named Daojue said, "Why not rename it 'Seedling' (Dawn of Enlightenment), to broadly embrace Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism? Are the monasteries the only ones who save the common people? To contemplate the blessings and misfortunes of the past is nothing but an early awakening." All praised the idea, and the name was changed to Seedling Temple.\nLater, hearing of the Cotton Goddess among the folk, who protects weavers and blesses the commoners, the village elders invited her shrine into the temple. Since then, Buddhist halls, Daoist shrines, and Confucian academies stand side by side. The incense burns ever brighter, and believers gather like spokes to a hub.\nEast of the temple lies a hidden grotto, a place for Daoist cultivation. Just ten steps inside, shadowed stones and drooping trees reveal a profound realm, a universe hidden within a mustard seed. The cave is deep and secluded; even in the blazing summer, a chilling breeze strikes the skin. A Daoist priest cultivates within, guiding his breath and absorbing the essence, ignoring worldly affairs. Ancient vines entwine the cave, wildflowers bloom in clusters, and birds chirp occasionally. It is a true immortal paradise.\nToday, the temple is hidden within a dense forest, rarely visited by men. Yet the morning bell and evening drum resound for miles. Ascending the temple to gaze afar, the Great Lake is like a mirror, and Mount Tai like a screen. The misty waters are boundless, the emerald peaks layered.\nAlas! The affairs of the world are impermanent, and prosperity and decline have their destined times. The grief of losing one's parents in the past has transformed into the mercy of Seedling Temple today. The name of a single temple has changed multiple times, yet its heart of compassion has only grown firmer through the ages. The Three Teachings blend together, each attaining its own wonder; this is the spiritual focus of Mount Tai. Future generations who visit here should reflect on the brevity of life and seek enlightenment early, lest they wait until their hair turns white to regret the days of their youth.