Zhang Wenfeng slowly put down the teacup. He didn't look at Qian Jing, who had his head lowered and looked confused and shy. He thought for a moment and said, "I'm going to tell you a story. Let's tell it to you first. Don't cry."
Qian Jing raised his head curiously and glanced at the audience outside the window, and whispered: "No way, just tell me."
After retracting his thoughts, Zhang Wenfeng stood up and walked to the desk, laid out a large piece of drawing paper, and took out the willow charcoal sticks that had not been used for a long time. His voice sounded a little hollow and ethereal.
"This is a story with both happiness and sadness. I was still very young at that time. Ever since I can remember, my parents were always busy with endless tasks, and the same was true for my second brother. They were busy in the fields just to have one more drink.
Thick, the eldest brother has already married and separated and is living alone. The third sister is thin and thin with braids and big eyes. She has taken care of me since I was a child, holding me on her back, for fear that I would fall and bump into her. What is there to eat?
Let me first..."
He used his magical power to keep himself out of the situation, his voice did not fluctuate, and he talked about every detail of his childhood.
Use charcoal strips to outline memories that have long been blurred. All the pictures seem to have been diluted by the years, and the paintings are blurry and specious. Some are bent over with children on their backs, some are jumping around, and some are digging pigweed... none of them.
The exception is the thin figure wearing pigtails.
Only those pair of pigtails are the beautiful scenery that cannot be erased from his memory.
When he was told that his third sister was marrying far away when he was fifteen years old, she made him cry so sadly that he chased her for several miles, crying and shouting.
Later, there was very little news from the third sister, and then there was no news at all.
It was not easy to survive those years.
When we talk about meeting the little girl selling flowers at Yue Crow Lake, the scene is also fixed on the head of the little girl who is too aggrieved and dare not cry, with her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled.
A cheerful voice seemed to echo in my ears.
"Brother, brother!"
Zhang Wenfeng raised his head and was speechless. He felt an inexplicable sense of relief in his heart, as if he had been relieved of invisible restraints.
Qian Jing had already burst into tears after listening to it. It was indeed a sad story. She believed from the bottom of her heart that what the viewer told was true. The look in the viewer's eyes that occasionally looked at her revealed a hint of intimacy that puzzled her and made her distressed.
, and she had misunderstood it for many years, but now she suddenly understood.
If it weren't for her practice, she would definitely not be able to accept such ridiculous and mysterious things.
Taking the handkerchief handed over by the viewer, Qian Jing did not wipe it, showing a smile full of tears, looking up and saying: "I want to see the place where she last lived, her cemetery."
Zhang Guanzhu nodded, walked out of the door, and smiled at the two boys guarding the tree in the distance.
Hu Qiang'er and Leng Xiang looked at Qian Jing, who seemed to be crying, and flew into the air closely with the viewer, heading south. They looked at each other, and Hu Qiang'er muttered: "Isn't the master bullying Qian Jing?
?Why is she crying?"
"What are you talking about? I didn't see Qian Jing walking out the door with a smile. I don't bully others."
"Uh, no, why is Qian Jing crying? There are still tears on her face."
"Why don't you ask the master?"
"Are you going to ask?"
"you go!"
The two little guys had a fight.
Qianyanshan Village in autumn is covered with yellow leaves, giving it a somewhat desolate look.
Two young Taoist priests, neatly dressed and elegant in appearance, landed from the air on the gravel road in the village, attracting many ignorant children to watch. Then they were driven home with stern eyes by the restrained adults who laughed, bowed and saluted.
In a remote mountain village, it is rare to see a flying god.
The children in the village have been sent to the town many times to participate in the apprenticeship assessment of the Immortal Mountain Gate. Over the past thirty years, several have entered different Taoist temples to practice, but they all returned after studying for three years. All kinds of immortal experiences, the villagers
I've heard too much.
We should have respect for the gods and deities and should not judge or offend them.
Zhang Wenfeng led Qian Jing into the dilapidated courtyard with half of the abandoned stone wall that was overgrown with weeds and collapsed. He told her in a low voice that in front of the firewood gate, he used his toes to make a mark that destroyed wealth, and stepped on the ground at the east kitchen door.
The shallow past.
Qian Jing just listened and followed the viewer to the back mountain and found a small tomb surrounded by stones.
Zhang Wenfeng squatted down and pulled out the weeds and shrubs on the tomb, and said: "It was Youyou who led the way back then. He took my silver reward and asked the villagers to rebuild it. Otherwise, this tomb would have ceased to exist."
That family had long since died, and the two of them just came to take a look.
After staying in silence for a while, Zhang Wenfeng signaled Qian Jing to wait for a moment. He turned and walked toward the entrance of the village. Two villagers who were dressed slightly more upright were waiting at the intersection. They looked middle-aged and had Taoist inner breath cultivation.
"Shang Mingyi met with the Taoist Priest. I wonder what the Taoist's instructions are?"
"Get up, there's nothing to do. Come over and take a look. You go on, it's time for us to leave."
Zhang Wenfeng sent two villagers who had practiced in other Taoist temples, and Qian Jing flew into the air and soon disappeared.
After a while, the two people went back and forth, walking around the lonely grave where the weeds had been pulled out to reveal the soil. One of them said: "It seems that the rumor I heard when I was young that Shang Baoxi's daughter-in-law has immortal relatives is true.
, that family is really..."
"Hush! Be careful of trouble coming from your mouth."
"Let's put in some effort. This tomb should be repaired."
"It needs to be fixed!"
Returning to the sect and standing by the stream at the foot of the mountain, Zhang Wenfeng looked at Qian Jing, who had been silent all the way, and said with a smile: "You are you, and she is she. The past causes and effects will pass by with a smile, and the knot in your heart will be untied, and you will live in peace.
How about practicing at Shanmen?"
Qian Jing tilted his head and thought for a moment, then said with a smile: "I want that picture scroll."
"The paintings are messy... OK, you can go get them yourself if you like. I haven't been back to the mountain for several years and walked around."
Zhang Wenfeng looked at the woman who had recovered her mood and ran towards the mountain road with a smile. He was also in an inexplicably good mood, and it was not a bad thing to deal with it this way. He waved to the treetops, and two children flew down to his side, one on the left and the other on the right.
"Let's go on a mountain patrol with the master."
"Okay, please, sir!"
The two boys followed each other in high spirits, saluting and greeting the disciples they met.
Three days later, Tu Kun, who had received the letter, rushed back from afar. Lu Zijin also came back with a big and stupid mountain badger. Xiao Ni'er also came with Yang Shuilan. The disciples who went out, except those who had escaped from the ordinary way,
Most of those who had to guard their shops rushed back to meet the temple owner, say a few words, stay for three or two days, and then return.
Fairyland Temple has not been this lively in many years.
Fourth-level monks came to visit one after another, and the house was full of guests and incense was flourishing.
Half a month later, Zhike's disciple handed over a greeting card.
When Zhang Wenfeng saw the two names "Wu Qianping and Fu Gujing" written on the post, he hurriedly got up and rushed to the new hall to meet the two old friends who came to visit. He warmly invited them to the west hall of the old Taoist temple to drink tea and talk about the past.
However, due to the gap in status and status, they had not seen each other for more than thirty years, and their relationship with him could not go back to the past.
His speech and behavior were somewhat reserved, polite and flattering, and he lacked the high-spiritedness he once had.
Unlike He Guangjun and Chen Qingqiao before they became successful.
How could those two people deal with him calmly?
After chatting for more than an hour, before seeing off the two old friends who stood up to say goodbye, Zhang Wenfeng took out two jade boxes and said casually: "They are not valuables, they just happen to be the third-grade Youhua detoxifying pill that you need, maybe.
If it can help you two brothers’ spiritual practice, please don’t refuse!”
Fu Gujing took the jade box with both hands. Xianling Temple produced Youhua Anti-toxic Pill, which can resolve erysipelas. It was not a secret in the Eastern Continent. However, apart from Xianling Temple’s own use, and a small amount of Anti-toxic Pill being exchanged with other sects,
The outside world has never heard of anyone having one.
I have a lot of emotions in my heart. In the past few years, I have been used to the warmth and coldness of people, especially when I failed to attack the free state for the first time. In those years, I felt too much cynicism and listened to too much gossip.
He and Lao Wu should have come to visit a long time ago, and for no other reason, Zhang Guanzhu still treated his friends with sincerity.