Ning Que was not allowed to look at the precipice, but Ning Que insisted. He stared at the clouds between the precipice and the stone windows that were faintly discernible. His eyes became more and more sore. Finally, it was as if he had been stabbed by thousands of swords. He closed his eyes and began to cry, looking extremely sad. When he opened his eyes, they were already red and swollen.
He did not know the name of the tactical array between the precipice, but he had truly experienced the magic of this tactical array. He thought to himself that Haotian Taoism was indeed the number one sect in the world. It was extremely profound. Even though it had shown signs of decline over the years, at least it could not be seen around the West-Hill Divine Palace.
The tactical array between the precipice was to prevent people from peeping into the You Prison. As long as one kept a sufficient distance, or did not insist on looking through the clouds, it would not cause too much damage.
Ning Que was not afraid. He thought that the tactical array of the West-Hill Divine Palace was so powerful, and the tactical array of the Zhishou Abbey must be even more amazing. Eldest Brother had gone to the Zhishou Abbey in late autumn last year. If Chen Pipi had not done something in the Zhishou Abbey, it would have been difficult for Ning Que to enter the abbey, not to mention that the Tomes of Arcane in the Zhishou Abbey had held up the Abbey Dean for such a long time.
He wondered how Chen Pipi was doing now. He looked at the flowing clouds and the bright sun between the Peach Mountain cliffs and missed his best friend in the world. Then he thought of Chen Pipi's father, the Abbey Dean who had been hacked out of Chang 'an by thousands of knives. He did not know whether the Abbey Dean was dead or alive. Neither the Tang Empire nor the West-Hill Divine Palace had any news of him. He did not know if the great man had returned to the Zhishou Abbey, or if he had become a cold corpse in the straw mat on the way home.
Ning Que had never met his Youngest Uncle. The Abbey Dean was the most powerful human being he had seen after his Master. Recalling the battle on the snowy street of Chang 'an, he was still in awe. If such a powerful human being were to disappear quietly in the long river of history, he would welcome such an ending, but he would also feel regret.
He left the cliff and passed through the peach trees to return to the Book Hall of the Revelation Institute. He looked around for old Divine Hall maintenance files, trying to find some clues about the tactical array on the precipice, but to no avail. By the time he woke up from the sea of books, it was still early, but he felt hungry. Only then did he remember that he had not eaten breakfast today. He walked to the kitchen and looked at the rice and vegetables, but he did not feel like eating.
Ever since Sangsang grew up, he rarely cooked. Especially now that he was in the West-Hill Divine Palace. Every time he stood in front of the stove and looked at the brilliant Divine Palace outside the window, he felt annoyed.
However, people always needed to eat. Even with his current realm, it was not a big deal for him to not eat for more than ten days, but his psychological and spiritual needs had to be satisfied. At this moment, he remembered that last summer, when the Headmaster of the Academy took him and Sangsang to travel through the West-Hill, he took him to eat something good.
…
…
Outside the town, there was a stone bridge with flowing water. The scenery was clear and beautiful. One could see the Peach Mountain more than ten miles away when they looked up. However, this was not the right path, so there were not many believers who came to visit.
There was an old man with a face full of wrinkles in the shop opposite the Daoist Temple. There were a few iron buckets sealed with yellow mud at the door of the shop. Some of the broken rims of the buckets gave off a sweet fragrance. The old man was drinking. His yellow calloused fingers pinched a handful of peanuts and chewed them from time to time. The wrinkles on his face were full of black ash, which had been floating out of the iron buckets for decades and could not be washed clean.
An ordinary horse carriage stopped in front of the shop. The girl in white stared at the iron buckets curiously, wondering what kind of sweet potatoes were roasted inside. How could they be so sweet and fragrant that people would eat them on such a hot summer day? Even the Saintess had to leave the Peach Mountain to buy them?
They came a little late, and the roasted sweet potatoes were bought by two deacons of the Revelation Divine Hall. So they had to wait outside the shop, which was a little boring.
Sangsang sat in the carriage. She did not feel bored. To her, boredom was a boring emotion that only human beings would have. Time was just the order of things, and it had no meaning. Moreover, her time had always been useful. For example, when she looked at the steam and fragrance coming out of the roasted sweet potatoes through the curtain, she was actually feeling the rules of heat, or in other words, she was feeling herself. If someone knew what she was doing now, he would definitely think that she was very narcissistic. But in fact, she did not even have the feeling of narcissism.
More than ten papal cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill escorted a divine priest. They passed by the town, and it seemed that they were going to cross the stream and go straight back to the Peach Mountain.
That divine priest was He Mingchi.
He studied under Li Qingshan, the Nation Master of the Tang Empire. He was the most important person of the Divine Halls of West-Hill in the Tang Empire. The night of blood and fire in Chang 'an was one of his means. Most importantly, he destroyed the God-stunning Array in Chang' an. According to the Hierarch's reward, he alone was more important than all the cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill.
The Divine Halls of West-Hill knew that He Mingchi was the one that the Tang Empire and the Academy wanted to kill the most. Even when the Divine Halls negotiated with the Tang Empire, they did not include his safety in their conditions. Because they knew that the Tang Empire, especially the Academy, would never accept this condition. Therefore, for the sake of safety, the Divine Halls sent He Mingchi to the south to hide for a while. Only now did he return to Peach Mountain.
Sangsang looked at He Mingchi in the distance through the curtain. She did not show any emotion on her face, but she did not know why her body was filled with extreme hatred. She knew that this person was extremely loyal to her, and he was the trusted subordinate of the Hierarch's loyal dog. He would be given an important position when he returned to the Divine Halls, but she still hated him.
In fact, she did not know why she hated the ant in the red robe. But she did not accept this reason. So she thought that she did not know, so she did not know.
The sweet potatoes were finally baked. The old man squinted and took out three hot sweet potatoes with his bare hands. He did not seem to feel the heat from his fingers. After wrapping them in paper, he handed them to the girl in white standing in front of the shop.
The girl in white took out money from her waist and put it down. Then she returned to the carriage with the hot sweet potatoes. She lifted the curtain and handed one sweet potato in, and then handed the other two to her companion.
The whip was crisp, and the wheels sounded gradually. Then it suddenly stopped.
The girl in white stopped the carriage. Because she felt the irresistible will from the carriage, she and her companion sat quietly in front of the carriage, waiting for what might happen.
After a while, a young man in the uniform of the Divine Halls' handyman walked to the front of the shop. He looked at the old man and asked, "Has your shop really been open for a thousand years?"
…
…
Ning Que saw the ordinary horse carriage outside the shop, but he did not pay much attention to it. But when he saw the two girls who looked like they were made of snow, he could not help but think of his little black handmaiden. He silently thought that since they were working for the master, black was better than white. No matter how they cleaned, they would not look dirty, right?
The old man squinted and said, "My grandfather's grandfather's grandfather's …"
Ning Que did not want to hear him finish reciting the ancestral genealogy. He took out a copper coin and said, "Give me three."
The old man said, "My sweet potatoes are big. You can't finish three."
Ning Que bought three sweet potatoes purely subconsciously. One for his teacher, one for himself, and one for Sangsang. Hearing this, he understood and said, "Then two will be fine."
The old man took out two sweet potatoes with his bare hands and handed them to him. He put away the copper coin and began to drink again.
The Headmaster of the Academy once said that eating sweet potatoes in the hot summer had to be done while they were still hot, just like eating ice in winter. What they sought was the extreme of the extreme and the stimulation of the stimulation.
Ning Que was not a pure filial disciple. He had forgotten many of the words his teacher had said, but he remembered all the words his teacher had said about food. Because he insisted that compared to the title of the greatest man in the world, the title of the greatest gourmet in the world was more suitable for his teacher.
He held the sweet potatoes and sat on the threshold. He pinched his fingers and tore the skin. The red and yellow soft potato meat was steaming and exposed in the deep summer air. The sweet smell spread around.
He endured the heat and began to eat the potato meat. It was so hot that he kept sticking out his tongue.
In the carriage, Sangsang looked at the man on the threshold through the curtain. There was no emotion on her face. She was absolutely indifferent. However, she did not notice that the sweet potato in her hand had been crushed.
She frowned in disgust and looked at the steaming potato meat. She raised her hand and took a bite. Then she began to eat again and again, as if she did not feel any heat at all.
In the deep summer town, it was hot and quiet. Suddenly, the sound of cicadas came from the tree behind the house. They had just finished their afternoon nap and began to celebrate their reunion with their companions after an hour of separation.
He sat on the threshold and ate the sweet potato.
She sat in the carriage and ate the sweet potato.
There was only a thin curtain between them.
…
…
It was very quiet in front of the sweet potato shop. The old man drank several cups of wine and chewed three pinches of peanuts. He was slightly tipsy and began to hum with his dusty fingers while tapping on the barrel edge.
Ning Que sat on the threshold and listened to the song. Although it was simple, it was somewhat beautiful. Especially the lyrics, although ordinary, they were somewhat meaningful. Ning Que gradually became entranced.
"Picking firewood with a knife, but afraid of frightening the moving mountain ghost. Rain falls on the banana leaves. Last year's cicada slough falls on the shoes. Hanging on the vines, the mocking laughter in the clouds comes from the mouth of the monkey. After years of idleness, the pottery model under the rotten leaves has accumulated old dust. In the Hongluo Winterfield, the white snow regards the paw print as a burden. Looking at the sky, the clouds and smoke dissipate like smoke. "
Ning Que held the sweet potato and said in a daze, "Interesting."
The old man became more and more proud of the guest's praise. His voice gradually became louder, but the tone suddenly became calmer, as if people in the countryside were talking.
"Cutting firewood to make a fence, planting three peach trees. Picking the grain as rice, and then making two jars of wine, as light as water. Picking flowers and twisting juice, making the bride's eyebrows drunk. Firecrackers sound, the old house cries new, never tired. Little deer cry, calling the maid to cut a few plums and heat two pots of wine. Remembering the childhood sweetheart, who could bear to give up a cup? "
Ning Que thought of last summer, in front of this shop in this town, his teacher and her were still by his side. But now he was alone, and he could not help but feel sad.
…
…
(These two paragraphs are part of The Spy's 27 Cups of Wine that I completed at the request of a reader a few days ago. For the full text, please read the comment section. I didn't pay attention when I wrote it, and only after I finished writing it did I realize that I was writing about Coming Night. Then, writing this chapter is really a bit tiring. I am not capable, but I have high expectations of myself, so I can only keep squeezing myself. There is still one more chapter today, and I don't know when I can finish it, so I am working hard.) (To be continued. If you like this work, please come to Qidian.Com to vote for me. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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