Taixu Mountain at night is covered with white mist.
There is no bright moon hanging in the sky, only stars twinkling.
The stars in the sky are hidden in the thick clouds and covered by the thick mist in the mountains, as if pairs of eyes with insight into the world are hiding in the dark to peek.
At the foot of the mountain, on a ladder overgrown with weeds, a lame old man with a green leather gourd on his left arm was climbing slowly.
He wore a navy blue burlap coat with patches sewn on it, and loose gray cotton trousers that had been washed white. He wore a pair of black cloth shoes with smooth soles and already tattered uppers.
He stooped, limped, and walked up in a crooked manner.
He is very thin and very old.
He was so thin that he seemed to be vulnerable to collapse at any time.
The old man's face is saggy, his eye sockets are sunken, and the wrinkles on his forehead are as deep as the ravines in the fields.
The gray hair is messy on the forehead. There are not many hairs at all, and it looks particularly greasy.
He was very tired, out of breath, and had to stop and rest every few steps.
I took a sip of the strong wine from the green gourd and gazed at the top of the mountain from a distance with cloudy and distracted eyes.
"Master, I haven't seen you for six thousand years."
"How are you?"
His enunciation is like beads, his smile is warm and mellow.
He grinned and tried to straighten his back, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes.
Lowering his head to wipe, and carrying the green gourd that had been with him for more than 10,000 years, the old man couldn't help the sadness in his heart anymore. He blamed himself and choked with sobs: "Young Master, this old slave is useless. He has been working in vain for six thousand years, and he still hasn't been able to find out what happened.
The truth of the matter."
"I can't avenge you, I can't seek justice for you."
"This old slave is guilty and deserves death."
He fell to his knees with a bang and burst into tears.
Unspeakable desolation and guilt, my shoulders were shaking and I couldn't help crying.
On the top of the mountain, a woman in palace clothes walked out of the mist, her eyes equally sad.
"Uncle Chong."
She shouted softly: "Brother will not blame you."
The old man's body stiffened, as if he heard the woman's words coming from far away, he quickly rolled up his sleeves and began to wipe his face.
The woman in palace clothes said "considerately": "It was too dark, so Nian'er didn't see anything."
The old man arranged his clothes with a solemn expression, put the green gourd back on his left arm, and saluted respectfully: "I have met the eldest lady."
Jiang Changnian shook his head and said, "I prefer you to call me Nian'er, just like when you called me Nian'er in the past."
The old man moved his left foot forward and climbed to the top in one step.
He stood in front of the Taixu Creation Monument, looking in a trance at the place where Jiang Linan's soul had perished six thousand years ago. He was full of anger and could not help but spread: "The young master said that the etiquette cannot be abolished."
"Once a slave, always a slave."
"Although I am not a slave of the Jiang Clan, I sincerely serve the young master as my master."
"He is gone. Without his permission, I am no longer qualified to call you Nian'er."
"You are, after all, the Lord of the Phoenix Realm and the Supreme of the Realm."
Jiang Changnian said lonely: "In Nian'er's heart, I will always be the little Nian'er who will come to you and cry when he is wronged."
"Uncle Chong, Nian'er has never treated you as an outsider or as a slave."
"Not only me, but also the entire Jiang Clan."
The old man laughed loudly, and there was a soft color in his eyes.
He stretched out his right hand with the thumb missing, pointed at the Dragon and Phoenix Dharmamen ranked sixth on the Taixu Creation Monument and said, "What is the relationship between that person and the young master?"
"Is he the reincarnation of the young master as widely rumored outside, or is it a rumor deliberately spread by someone?"
Jiang Changnian replied calmly: "The person who inherited it."
The old man looked moved and closed his eyes: "Are you sure it's not the reincarnation of the young master?"
Jiang Changnian said with a bitter tone: "There is essentially no difference."
