It was as if it was just a long dream. In the dream, there was a background of flowing water. It was the azure Lake Namtso. The cloudless sky and the silver-white snowy peaks were reflected on the surface of the lake. It was like a frozen silver wave. From time to time, fish would jump out of the water. Under the sunlight, their scales shone with a colorful light.
Her mother still looked the same as when she was not sick. Standing beside her, the wind messed up her hair. Her mother's fingers went through her ears to hold her back. It was a familiar and warm touch.
In a trance, she remembered that this was the only time she and her daughter went out together. Ever since her father ran away from home when she was young, her mother had brought her to struggle for survival in this world that was especially narrow and narrow for the poor. Fortunately, her mother was an open-minded and bright person. She could work all night for ten yuan of overtime pay, or she could spend ten years of savings for her daughter's dream of crossing the plateau.
Standing in front of Namtso Lake, the wind on the plateau was endless. It passed through the ice peaks that pointed straight to the sky like swords, whistling towards the boundless land. Beyond the clouds, there was a faint murmur. It seemed like a chant or a Buddhist hymn. It circled above her head with a low flying eagle. At that moment, she seemed to hear the haze and obsessions that had accumulated in the depths of her heart being smashed by the icy wind.
After returning from Namtso Lake, she chose to study archaeology and history.
She chose to accompany the desert filled with yellow sand, the giant Buddha that had been silent for a thousand years, the deserted village that had not been visited for a long time, the deep and mysterious canyon, and the cliff with the hanging coffin.
In the blink of an eye, she walked into the gloomy and long tunnel. The blue and white porcelain lamps were shining brightly, and the wide ground paved with boulders was echoed by her marching boots. A huge lotus was carved on the stone surface every three steps. The underground palace was gradually revealed in front of her eyes. Golden light shone at each step, and the giant emerald beast in the ear chamber looked at each other silently.
Vaguely, the chanting that sounded like a Buddhist hymn sounded again. It was nowhere to be found but everywhere. The murmur rang in her ears. She suppressed her pounding heart and walked towards the main chamber based on her intuition.
Yes, it was there.
It was so tall and huge that it was beyond the imagination of the human brain. On the white stone pillars, the totem of auspicious beasts rose. On the golden dome, dozens of luminous pearls shone brightly. It was as if a new layer of heaven had been created.
Her eyes only looked at the golden coffin.
Who was sleeping peacefully over there?
There was a pattern carved on the golden coffin. It looked like a human face.
She walked forward step by step.
"Fuyao."
The voice behind him was kind and sad. It was a familiar tone, but also an unfamiliar tone.
She suddenly turned around.
"Mom …"
Out of nowhere, a beam of white light shone down. In the white light, her mother's body was thin, like a paper doll. The white hospital gown with blue stripes stung her eyes.
"Fu Yao, how are you?"
She froze on the spot, tears welling up in her eyes. She turned around, wanting to run towards the place where the white light was gathering.
That was her mother, her concern, the only harbor she could stop at after drifting, her … home.
The moment she turned around, the inexplicable chanting behind her suddenly became even louder. Each chanting became louder and louder until it turned into a huge sound wave that spread throughout the entire hall. Like a surging wave, it rushed over and surrounded her, as if it wanted her to stay.
"Fu Yao …"
"If you turn around, I'll be in hell."
…
*****
"It's daybreak."
The deep, elegant voice of a man sounded familiar. For a moment, she thought that the voice from her dream had reappeared and that she had once again traveled through time and space to a place that she had to go to in her destiny.
She opened her eyes in a daze. Her vision was still blurry, like ripples on the surface of water, reflecting her elegant face. It took her quite a while to remember that she had fallen asleep in the arms of a man she had only met twice during that dangerous moment of escape. She had even had a strange dream.
It was a new experience she had never experienced in her life.
She stood up, blushing. Looking around, she realized that she was in a quiet room. From the layout and decorations, it was clearly a guest room in the Xuanyuan Villa. In other words, they were still in the Xuanyuan Sword Sect.
Yuan Zhaoxu had already changed into an ordinary cotton robe. It was a pity that his temperament was so outstanding that ordinary clothes could not conceal his elegance. Instead, they added a sense of nobility and simplicity to his ordinary clothes.
He sat on the chair and gently used the lid to stir the stem of the tea. Lord Ingot was squatting on Yuan Zhaoxu's shoulder, waiting for the tea to cool down before taking a sip.
Yuan Zhaoxu smiled, seemingly unconcerned. Lord Ingot was proud of his successful sneak attack. Yuan Zhaoxu calmly finished stirring the stem of the tea and suddenly slammed the lid over Ingot's head.
The huge, heavy porcelain lid slammed into Lord Ingot's snow-white head, covering it completely. Lord Ingot was caught off guard. He had never practiced the Iron Neck Technique, so he was immediately squashed. He spun three times on Yuan Zhaoxu's shoulder like a drunkard before falling to the ground with a thud.
Lord Ingot crawled up, not daring to seek revenge on his master. He went to the corner of the wall to draw circles. Yuan Zhaoxu acted as if nothing had happened. He smiled and asked Meng Fuyao, who was watching the show, "Who did you dream of?"
Meng Fuyao was startled, vaguely recalling the dream. She was in a trance and felt a little suffocated, but she forced a smile. "Nothing much, just some old things."
Yuan Zhaoxu took a sip of tea and looked up from the rim of the teacup. His eyelashes were thick and long, covering his deep, dark eyes. "Oh? Old things? Then why are you hugging me? "
"Eh?"
"You're hugging my sleeve and calling me mother."
"Eh!!!"
Meng Fuyao's face instantly turned red.
Yuan Zhaoxu put down the teacup and leaned against the chair. His eyes seemed to be smiling. "Mother? Are you talking about mother? The way you address your parents seems to be a little different from the people of the Five Continents. "
Meng Fuyao was embarrassed at first, then a little surprised. She thought about it and smiled. "You speak as if you know all the races of the Five Continents, but you don't know that when we Yan Huang Tribe call our mother, we call her mother."
"Yan Huang Tribe?" Yuan Zhaoxu's voice was calm, without a hint of surprise.
"Yes." Meng Fuyao's expression did not change. "A small tribe in the remote Heng Continent that lives deep in the mountains and doesn't interact with outsiders. I was brought out of the mountains by a distant relative when I was young. I don't remember much, but I do have some impression of how you call me mother."
She blinked, extended her hand, and smiled gracefully. "I'm Meng Fuyao. Thank you for saving me twice."
Yuan Zhaoxu's gaze slowly fell on her snow-white palm. He smiled. "Is this also part of the Yan Huang Tribe's etiquette?"
Meng Fuyao looked straight into his eyes. "According to our tribe's customs, when a woman extends her hand to you, it's very impolite to ignore her."
"Is that so …" Yuan Zhaoxu dragged out his last syllable, low and elegant, like a sigh from a dream. He slowly extended his hand as if to hold her hand, but just as his fingers were about to make contact, he suddenly pulled her into his embrace.
His low laughter rang out above Meng Fuyao's head. In an instant, a faint, strange fragrance surrounded the startled Meng Fuyao.
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