Fan Xian walked in the direction of the side hall with his head down. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at the altar of heaven in the main hall. He was curious as to who was praying there, to be able to order around that middle-aged master. He knew that the person's background was unfathomable, and he only wanted to come to the temple of Qing to take a look, so there was no need to fight over this, even though his name was Fan Xian.
His right hand was still covering his mouth, and he coughed occasionally. Earlier, he had used zhenqi to travel around his abdomen and confirmed that his body had not suffered any substantial damage. It was just that when the zhenqi had reversed, it had ruptured the fragile membrane between his throat, not his lungs or upper bronchial tubes.
He coughed as he walked. Looking at the spots of blood on the white handkerchief, he thought of Lin Daiyu, Su Mengzhen, Zhou Yu, Lin Qinnan, and many other elders — ahem, forget about Lin Qinnan. She was not as poignant as the other three.
By the time he reached the side hall, his zhenqi had already healed most of the small injury. Fan Xian regretfully put away the handkerchief, looked back at the altar of heaven, and walked into the side hall.
The side hall was a slightly smaller temple, surrounded by a green stone wall. There was no one inside. Fan Xian found that he did not see the legendary Ascetic Monks, and felt slightly disappointed. He walked into the hall and was even more disappointed to find that there were no statues of the gods he had seen in his previous life.
But thinking about it, this was normal. Since they were worshiping the sky, no one would know what the sky looked like.
In the middle of the temple, there was an incense burner. It was very wide, and there was a light yellow satin hanging down to the ground, covering the green stone floor below.
On top of the incense burner was an exquisite porcelain incense burner. There were three sticks of incense stuck in the burner, and most of the incense sticks had already burned away. The entire room was enveloped in a calming fragrance.
Fan Xian wandered around the hall, his eyes sweeping over the colored paintings on the walls. He found that the style of the paintings was very similar to the oil paintings of later generations. But the gods in the paintings, standing on mountain peaks, floating on the surface of the sea, or sitting on volcanoes, did not have real faces. They were slightly blurry and deformed, as if the painter had purposely arranged them this way.
He took a look and found that these murals only talked about ancient myths that had been mentioned in the scriptures. Among them, there was content about Yu the Great controlling the flood. There were also some other things. However, no matter how Fan Xian looked at them, they did not match up with the scriptures.
He shook his head and gave up on the idea of finding some answers from the incense burner. He found a prayer mat at the side of the hall and threw it in front of the incense burner. He ran down, put his palms together, closed his eyes, and faced the green smoke curling up from the incense burner. His lips moved slightly as he prayed incessantly.
In his previous life, Fan Xian was naturally an atheist. In this life, Fan Xian was a firm believer in theism. This change happened very naturally. Anyone who encountered such a strange experience would probably have the same psychological change as him.
That was why he knelt and prayed piously, hoping that the ethereal heavens and the traceless temple would be able to explain why he had come to this world. At the same time, he prayed even more piously for the heavens to give him a lot of silver and a very peaceful life.
…
…
The seemingly tangible green smoke suddenly dissipated. The tip of Fan Xian's ears trembled slightly, as if he had heard something. He opened his eyes in disbelief and looked at the small, slightly trembling porcelain burner on the incense burner. He was incomparably shocked. Could it be that his seemingly pious, but actually absent-minded prayer had actually been detected by the heavens?
His gaze rested on the wide incense burner, and Fan Xian finally discovered the root of the problem. A bright light flashed through his eyes. His left hand pressed against the boot that concealed the dagger. Slowly but firmly, he extended his right hand and pulled back the cloth that hung below the incense burner.
— — — —
After the cloth was pulled back, what fell into Fan Xian's eyes was a scene that made him very surprised.
A girl wearing a white dress with the right hem was squatting in a corner of the incense burner, looking at Fan Xian in surprise.
The girl's eyes were very large and soft, like the surface of a quiet lake that would make one fall into a deep sleep forever. Her facial features were exquisite and beautiful, with light pink skin and long eyelashes. She looked like someone walking out of a painting.
Fan Xian was startled, and his gaze rested on her face. Gradually, he realized that the girl's forehead was a little big, her nose was a little sharp, and her skin was a little too white. Her lips seemed to be a little thicker than the average beauty's, and there were still many imperfections. But when put together, coupled with a slightly timid expression and a natural shyness, Fan Xian's heart still moved.
He was moved.
The girl looked curiously at this young man who was piously praying to the heavens. She realized that his face was unexpectedly beautiful, elegant and otherworldly. Even his eyelashes were so long. She couldn't help but stare at him a few more times.
After looking, the girl felt that something was wrong. A faint red smear quickly spread across both sides of her cheeks and then quickly spread. Unexpectedly, even the roots of her ears had turned red.
But she still couldn't bear to look away. She was curious in her heart. Whose family was this young man outside, to be so handsome?
…
…
It was quiet in the corner of the Qing Temple. Fan Xian's hand continued to hold that piece of muslin. His gaze continued to linger on the girl's face, and the girl gathered her courage to look at him. They looked at each other like this. After an indeterminable amount of time, it was still silent.
Fan Xian's gaze gently brushed over the girl's face. Finally, the girl couldn't help but slowly lower her head. Fan Xian's gaze finally fell on the girl's lips. Only then did he realize that her lips were abnormally shiny.
He looked at her again curiously and found the reason. It was the reason that he remembered for a long time after the incident. The girl was holding an oily chicken drumstick in her hand, and the oil on her lips was obviously from eating the drumstick.
Such a beautiful and otherworldly woman in white was hiding under the incense table of the Temple of Qing, secretly eating a chicken leg! This strong contrast made Fan Xian's mouth drop open, and he couldn't speak for a long time.
After a long time, there was finally a sound in the quiet and awkward silence of the incense table.
"You … you … who are you?"
The beautiful man and woman spoke at the same time. Even their slightly trembling voices were very similar.
It was the first time Fan Xian had heard the girl's voice. He felt that it was soft and powerless. It was a very comfortable feeling, but also very confusing. His chest tightened, and he actually spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Ah!" Seeing him spit out blood, the girl was startled, but not because she was afraid. Her eyes naturally showed a strong sense of pity, as if all the pain Fan Xian had suffered was pain in her heart.
Seeing her worry for him, Fan Xian's heart warmed. He smiled and comforted her. "It's nothing. Vomiting and vomiting will become a habit."
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