The Chu Yue Tang that once ran like wolves and rushed like boars were now slave thieves who slaughtered dogs and donkeys. All that was left of the majestic Spring and Autumn Period was sadness and laughter.
It was rumored that Huang Longshi, the main culprit behind the sinking of the Divine Land, only laughed out loud after seeing the miserable scenes of the scholars running north. He made a few songs to gloat over their misfortune for the future generations to hum. He claimed that not only did the Wulin world have to thank him for reversing fate, the literary world had changed like this because the country was unlucky and the poets were lucky.
When the Spring and Autumn Period ended, the scholars ran north. There was only one record of Yong Hui crossing north in the official history of Liyang. Jia Mian praised him generously with beautiful words and praised him for being able to pass through Guangling. However, in the history books of Beimang, there were only two times. Other than the simple Yong Hui crossing north, there were more records of the second crossing north before Xu Xiao became the vassal of Beiliang. This time, the scholars and celebrities of the Central Plains who were completely disappointed with the Liyang imperial court began to crazily rush into Beimang, which was now the territory of the Southern Dynasty. Most of the so-called powerful families that occupied the high positions of the Southern Dynasty now fled north in panic like stray dogs. At that time, these big families spared no effort to secretly operate in Tai 'an City, hoping that the relatively gentle Gu Jiantang would be crowned as the King of Beiliang instead of the executioner with the surname Xu. They believed that who would be crowned as the King of Beiliang would decide whether the national policy of Liyang would be strict or lenient. However, the result was disappointing. The lame man wanted to be the King of Beiliang instead of an ordinary border official and personally guard the northwest gate of the Empire. In this way, they hoped that before the gate was completely closed, they would be able to leave some incense for their descendants in the upcoming "revenge" by the Liyang imperial court. Even if they had to bear the infamy of relying on the northern barbarians to prolong their feeble existence, they didn't care. For them, who were easily the Three Dukes of Four Generations, changing the surname of a country was never a disaster. Therefore, the destruction of the country was a small matter, but the destruction of the family was a big matter!
The noble families lost their old roots one after another. Not to mention anything else, just the ancestral maps of their family tree that had been treasured for hundreds of years were scattered all over the ground during their escape to the north.
In the spring rain, a young man squatted by the roadside. He could neither pick up nor flip open those precious diagrams, so he could only look at the page of genealogy that was spread open. The person who wrote the genealogy was obviously a calligraphy master. The handwriting was elegant and did not lose its strength. The words written on the genealogy archive were like pearls. With just a few strokes, he could write down the full picture of the achievements of a certain family ancestor. Then a tired mule carrying four gold-lacquered chests trampled over it and crushed the entire manuscript. It sank deep into the mud and the words blurred. The young man stood up. In his eyes, there was an endless stream of people, clan after clan, surname after surname, rushing together from the south to the north. He gently retracted his gaze and saw one of the chests carried by the mule fall to the ground with a loud crash after the rope broke, splashing a lot of mud. The mule driver completely ignored it and only whipped the mule. It was not because he felt sorry for the only ancient book in the chest that had been bought with a lot of money by generations of people, but because the mule's hooves were too slow.
After the panicked caravan of horses and mules, the caravan behind them was much more orderly. There were no lowly animals like mules and donkeys. They were all tall horses that were very flashy but not practical in their escape to the north. The caravan was also particularly long, with no less than four hundred people. The people riding on the horses, whether old or young, were not as anxious as the caravan behind them. There were even many white-clothed children whose clothes were slightly wet from the spring rain behind the curtains of some of the carriages. There were both men and women. They did not need to hold books in their hands to recite poems and chapters silently. An old man who looked like a teacher in a clan school sat among the children. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Occasionally, he would speak with the students.
Hsu Fengnian, who was dreaming of spring and autumn, did not follow the caravan forward. He stayed where he was until he heard the words "the woman admires chastity, the man is talented", "adhere to elegant exercises, good nobility," and finally "the tall crown accompanies the chariot, driving away the mules and vibrating the tassels". Only then did the sound of recitation gradually dissipate in his ears.
The old teacher, who had been silent all this time, only recited once during this period, and could not hide the tears in the old man's eyes. "Be righteous and retire, the bandits suffer losses!"
Hsu Fengnian thought to himself. They were not the stray dogs that were despised in the history books of later generations. They were probably the ones who were truly in the north. They should return home one day to worship their ancestors. However, that teacher would definitely not see the willows, moss, and fireflies of his hometown for the rest of his life.
Suddenly, an old Confucian scholar who had no one to rely on walked out from the crowd and stared at Hsu Fengnian. Presumably, in the eyes of the living in the world of the living, the old Confucian scholar had long been accustomed to the old Confucian scholar's foolish behavior. Along the way to the north, there were too many old people who died of illness, anger, or drowned.
The old Confucian scholar with the spring rain on his head twirled his beard and smiled, "I finally see you."
"You've already predicted this?" Hsu Fengnian opened his mouth out of habit. Although he was speechless, since this old Confucian scholar who would gift him a steamed bun in the future could see him, he should be able to "see" him speak.
The old Confucian scholar who looked like a lunatic talking to himself nodded and smiled, "I've said it before, oh no, I'll say it to you one day in the Tuma Pass. I, Yuan Qingshan, am not considered heaven and earth in this life, but only a human. The dream that Zhao Xituan bestowed upon your younger brother, Xu Longxiang, is a long night road, and that steamed bun can be considered a lantern that points the way. "
Yuan Qingshan smiled and said, "Two dynasties destroyed Buddhism, and only Beiliang sincerely believes in Buddhism. Since you're willing to shoulder the heavy burden, then you should receive Liu Songtao's fate, and thus build the lantern's skeleton. Therefore, that bowl of blood from the Dragon Tree monk should also light the wick in the cage. It's a pity that I haven't seen the other two of you with my own eyes. "
Hsu Fengnian asked, "Aren't you worried that Beimang will be destroyed by Li Yang?"
Yuan Qingshan shook his head and said indifferently, "Dynasties can rise and fall, but noble spirit must exist forever."
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