(Thank you book friend 20171025 … I can't remember the comments after that. The original text of those few sentences is Lu Xun's prose poem. In such a situation, no one hears the battle cry. Peace, peace, peace … Thank you.)
…
…
Jing Jiu could have stopped Shi Fengchen's suicide, but he didn't.
It wasn't because it was unnecessary, but because he saw the will to die in Shi Fengchen's eyes when he said the last sentence.
He understood Shi Fengchen's anger and hatred towards the Cultivation practitioners, though he didn't sympathize with him.
He didn't want to ask about the painful past of Shi Fengchen's life.
Life and death were the most important.
He would respect it.
Then let the dead get what they deserve.
…
…
The small courtyard was quiet.
The sunlight moved away. Two skinny chickens pecked at the shadows on the ground weakly.
The courtyard door was pushed open again.
"Master, it's still cabbage moss stir-fried with bacon today!"
Wang Xiaoming limped in and put the bacon on the grinding table. He kicked the two skinny chickens into the cage to prevent them from pecking at the bacon.
"Last time you said the cabbage moss was a bit old. This time it's very tender."
He carried the cabbage moss into the room excitedly, wanting to let his master have a look first.
There was a light clap.
The cabbage moss fell on the ground and spread out like a real flower.
His legs trembled uncontrollably.
"Ah … ah … Master!"
Miserable cries came from the room.
His cries were unpleasant.
His cries were not pleasant at all.
…
…
Shi Fengchen's funeral was very quiet.
At least at the beginning.
Wang Xiaoming knelt in front of the hall, throwing paper money into the basin. His movements were mechanical, and his expression was numb.
His eyes were bloodshot. Perhaps it was because of the smoke or because he had been crying for too long.
The neighbors came and left. He was the only one left kneeling in the small courtyard.
Suddenly, shouts and other noises came from outside the courtyard. Then, the wooden door was pushed open roughly.
It wasn't someone looking for trouble, but some lords were coming to offer their condolences. The yamen runners who were informed hurried over to clear the place.
The white banners were held high, and the words were written in ink. The atmosphere in the small courtyard suddenly changed.
Wang Xiaoming ignored him and continued to kneel in front of the copper basin, burning the paper money in a daze.
He couldn't remember the official positions and names of the officials who appeared after him.
When Shi Fengchen was alive, his house was deserted, but after his death, it was crowded. Everyone knew why.
Wang Xiaoming also knew that.
Nobody saw how Shi Fengchen died, and the officials of the Pure Heaven Bureau confirmed that he committed suicide after the investigation. But who forced him to commit suicide?
All the spearheads were pointed at Aoyama Sect, or more accurately, at Jing Jiu.
The officials of the Imperial court who were deeply influenced by the Zhongzhou School would of course use this opportunity to pressure the Aoyama Sect.
The so-called mourning, how could there be any sorrow on the faces of the officials?
In Wang Xiaoming's eyes, the only person who had a genuine affection for him was the Royal Concubine Hu, who had indirectly caused the death of his Master.
Late at night, the Royal Concubine Hu sent someone to deliver a large sum of gold and silver to Jing Jiu.
Wang Xiaoming thanked him.
After Shi Fengchen was buried, Wang Xiaoming left Zhaoge City.
No one knew where he had gone.
His colleagues in the warehouse of the Pure Heaven Bureau would talk about this youth once in a while.
A colleague named Seventy-Two, who had a good relationship with him, said when asked, "He said he wanted to go back to the northwest, and that his hometown is there."
In fact, he also felt it strange, because he had never heard that Wang Xiaoming had a hometown in the last two years, and had no idea what relationship it had with the northwest.
…
…
It was quiet in the back garden of the Zhao Manor House.
The trees in the late spring were at the most luxuriant and not boring stage, which made people feel happy just by looking at them.
Yet, Zhao Layue wasn't in such a mood.
"Shi Fengchen has an adopted son named Wang Xiaoming, who has the potential for Cultivation. He left Zhaoge City today, and his whereabouts are unknown."
Glancing at her once, Jing Jiu wondered if she intended to eliminate the source of the trouble.
"Like I said, I'm not a good person, and I'm very vicious."
Her face was a bit pale, because she had been wounded in the Mingcui Valley that day.
Jing Jiu said, "Shi Fengchen wasn't wrong in his judgment. It has something to do with me not being a good teacher. Your killing intent is indeed strong."
"Do you care?" asked Zhao Layue while staring at Jing Jiu.
Jing Jiu shook his head, saying, "You're angry because you haven't figured it out yet."
After a moment of silence, Zhao Layue said, "Yes, I don't understand why he wants to kill me. Did I do something wrong?"
Jing Jiu said, "The greater the ability, the greater the responsibility, and correspondingly, the greater the danger. Your temperament is unrestrained, and you care about the people in the world. As such, you are the most dangerous person in his eyes, and he has to eliminate you before you are powerful enough. "
Zhao Layue still didn't understand, asking, "Is it better to hide in the hermit peaks and cultivate the unfeeling Dao, ignoring the lives of the people?"
Jing Jiu said, "In a sense, the Cultivation practitioners who don't care about anything in the world are safer for the mortals."
Zhao Layue fell silent. She had lived in Zhaoge City since her childhood, and all she thought about was Cultivation, but she had also read some miscellaneous books.
In those stories, there were talented scholars and beautiful women, some chivalrous and righteous, and some hot-blooded warriors for the state. Later, when she went to the Aoyama Sect, the sect rules stated that the Cultivation practitioners should help the people in need; but during the journey of tens of thousands of miles and until now, Jing Jiu's attitude was that the Cultivation practitioners should not care about the mortal affairs. Why?
"The Cultivation practitioners and the mortals are from two different worlds. Once the mortals can cultivate, they have nothing to do with the mortals. A poet of the previous dynasty wrote a poem called "Sleepwalking in the Cold Mountain", which was loved by the mortals, but the Cultivation practitioners didn't feel much about it. They preferred his poem "Three Thousand Feet of White Hair". Why? "
Jing Jiu said, "It's because the latter is about the bitterness of life and death, and the Cultivation practitioners still can't get rid of it, so they feel the same way. The former is about the affairs of the immortals. You and I are immortals to begin with, so we can see the sceneries that mortals can't, and experience the feelings that mortals can't. How can we be moved by the imaginary sceneries and feelings of mortals? "
After a long moment of silence, Zhao Layue said, "But the mortals can also pursue it."
Jing Jiu said, "Yes, the mortals can choose not to accept their fate and try their best to embark on the path of immortality; but not all mortals have such a good fortune."
…
…
There was a temple on the mountain outside Zhaoge City. Few people came to offer incense outside Zhaoge City since it was not the festival season.
Wang Xiaoming walked to the back of the temple and climbed up a tree with some difficulty. After making sure that nobody was around the forest, he took out an oiled paper bag from the inside of his clothes.
The bag contained some miscellaneous items, which meant a lot to him.
The items were the banknotes and a thin book sent by the Royal Concubine Hu.
The book had the words "Qingxuan Method" written on it, which was the entry-level method of the Three-Purities Sect.
It was a relic left by Shi Fengchen for him.
He opened the book and began to read it carefully, but he still couldn't understand the words after a long time.
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