The bottom of the Dragon Burial Valley was isolated from the rest of the world.
The sun rose and set and the old temple sat there quietly, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world. It did not seem any different from before.
The only difference was that there was an additional young monk with delicate features.
There was also an obedient and smart little fox.
Every morning, the young monk would gaze at the rising sun.
In the evening, he would gaze at the setting sun on the horizon once more.
It was the same every day without a single break.
The young monk's eyes turned brighter.
Of course, most of the time during the day, the young monk would choose to read sutras in the Sutra Chamber and comprehend Zen.
Under the green lamp, beside the ancient Buddha, the young monk sat on a praying mat with a sutra in his hands. He had a calm expression and his mind was at peace.
Beside him, there was a fiery red little fox squatting there. It was quiet and did not move an inch.
At night, the young monk would head to the backyard of the old temple once more.
In the eerie mausoleum, the roars of dragons, tigers, and thousands of beasts would resound. It would only gradually die down when the sun rose.
The cycle repeated, day after day, year after year.
In the blink of an eye, 20 years passed.
Time did not seem to have left any marks on the monk's face.
However, the young monk's dantian was still empty without a single trace of spirit energy.
After so many years, the young monk no longer cultivated on purpose. He chanted sutras daily and strolled leisurely.
However, as time passed by, a unique aura appeared on the young monk.
It was indescribable.
The young monk seemed to have reached a realm of returning to simplicity.
At first glance, this was the most ordinary monk.
However, upon closer inspection, one would not be able to see through him, as though he was a mystery.
Yet another night passed.
In the backyard of the old temple, cemetery.
The morning sun had just risen and the young monk opened his eyes slowly. Tidying his robes, he bowed deeply to the red-haired burly man not far away. "Thank you for your kindness for the past 20 years!"
Naturally, the young monk was Su Zimo.
After so many years, this was the first time Su Zimo spoke to the red-headed ghost and thanked him in such a formal manner.
As though he sensed something, the red-headed ghost raised his brow and asked, "You're leaving?"
"Yes,"
Su Zimo nodded.
"Yes,"
The red-headed ghost answered absent-mindedly.
It was only when Su Zimo's figure was about to disappear from the backyard that the red-headed ghost's voice sounded once more, "Be careful outside."
Su Zimo felt warmth in his heart and nodded.
It was still early.
Ming Zhen was still asleep.
The door of the main hall was tightly shut and the old monk did not come out.
Su Zimo decided to wait outside.
At this moment, his ears twitched, and he faintly heard intermittent calls.
"Da … Shang!"
"Da … monk!"
The voice came from outside the old temple, above the Dragon Burial Valley.
The only person who could say that was Demoness Ji!
For some reason, Su Zimo suddenly felt a little flustered, as if he had a premonition that something big was about to happen!
After twenty years of practicing Zen and worshipping Buddha, such emotional fluctuations had almost never appeared in him.
Su Zimo pushed the door open and walked forward along the valley floor.
After a few steps, Demoness Ji's voice sounded again.
"Great monk, where are you? Hurry and come out! Mr. Su is not going to make it!"
Su Zimo's footsteps gradually came to a stop.
He froze on the spot with a dazed gaze. His mouth was slightly agape as a single sentence echoed in his mind – Mr. Su is not going to make it!
"First."
Su Zimo's lips quivered.
His first reaction was disbelief!
How was that possible?
Even after twenty years, Su Hong was only in his sixties – how was that possible?
However, the next moment, Su Zimo realized that although Demoness Ji liked to joke, she would definitely not lie about this matter.
His first brother was truly not going to make it!
More than ten years ago, Ji Yaoxue said that Su Zimo's health was not good and that was why Su Zimo intended to bring him away from the North Region after the intermediate ancient battlefield opened.
However, to think that …
After twenty years of chanting sutras and comprehending Zen and the Dao, Su Zimo thought that he had more or less accepted life and death and could let go of many things.
To think that he would still feel a piercing pain the moment he heard the news!
It was extremely, extremely painful.
At the bottom of the Dragon Burial Valley. Su Zimo leaned against the cold walls of the valley and slid to the ground weakly. His eyes were filled with unresolvable sorrow.
In a daze …
Su Zimo recalled many things.
On that night a few decades ago, the house of Yan Country's Duke Wuding was filled with rivers of blood and corpses.
A youth in his teens relied on his ferocity to protect two children who were still in their swaddling clothes and fled the capital in a frenzy!
Even though the young man's face was slashed viciously and his head was nearly split into two, he did not feel anything at all!
More than ten years had passed and the infants had already grown up.
However, the young man of the past was gradually aging.
Although he was only in his thirties, his sideburns were already filled with white hair.
His initially upright figure seemed to have bent significantly as well.
That young man shouldered everything with his broad shoulders, protecting the children who were once swaddled in swaddling clothes so that they could have a peaceful and beautiful life.
It was just like how the young man protected them and charged out of the capital more than ten years ago.
There was no turning back!
The young man of the past was dressed in bright clothes and rode on a majestic horse with a sword.
More than ten years later, he lost much of his edge and became more reserved and stable.
The only thing that did not change was his heart that cared for the world and its citizens.
That was the reason why he could still stand out despite his severe injuries and lead 5,000 black armored cavalry to stop Luo Tianwu and the others who massacred the citizens of Yan Country outside Jian An City!
That was the reason why he was able to say those words with such conviction.
"The Su family has a feud with the King of Yan. However, your army invaded the borders of the Great Yan Country and massacred its citizens. That's a national feud! I, Su Hong, am able to differentiate between a feud and a national feud! "
Su Zimo's vision gradually blurred.
However, those scenes flashed before his eyes one after another and became increasingly clear, as though it was yesterday.
"Hais."
A faint sigh sounded from above the Dragon Burial Valley.
"20 years ago, Glass Palace massacred 13 cities of Yan Country in order to vent their anger. That was a huge blow to Mr. Su."
"For the past 20 years, although Mr. Su was in the capital, he was always concerned about the citizens of Yan Country. He … was truly a good king."
Worry led to illness.
Not to mention ordinary mortals, even cultivators would have their lifespan greatly reduced and suffer from Qigong Deviation if they kept worrying for a few decades.
"Great monk, I don't know if you're listening."
Demoness Ji's voice sounded once more.
"For the past few years, my sister and I have searched for many spirit materials in the cultivation world. However, none of them are of any use and Mr. Su's health is deteriorating day by day."
"For the past few months, Mr. Su has been talking in his dreams and calling out for you and Xiaoning. When I heard it, it was truly, truly …"
Demoness Ji choked and could no longer continue.
Su Zimo hugged his head with both hands and curled his body. He could no longer control himself and burst into tears.
Unknowingly, Ming Zhen and the little fox had arrived beside him.
Looking at Su Zimo, the little fox's heart ached. She leaned over and rubbed her head against his ankle gently, consoling him with a whimper.
Ming Zhen lowered his head in silence as well, chanting a Buddhist proclamation internally.
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