The old Taoist with the surname Zhao had always been an unreasonable weirdo. He was a direct descendant of the Taoist Master's residence and was brimming with talent. He could debate Taoism with Qi Xuanzhen, compete with Li Chungang in swordsmanship, and compete with Xuanyuan Pan in strength. His talent was clearly a level higher than that of the Dragon Tiger Mountain's leader, Zhao Xiyi, who had already ascended. However, in order to avoid being an honorable minister, he fled from the mountain and concealed his identity to wander the jianghu. After returning to the mountain, he didn't live in the Taoist Master's residence. Instead, he lived in the dilapidated Taoist temple at the foot of the mountain and waited for death. A few years ago, he risked universal condemnation and accepted Ren Tu's youngest son as his disciple. If not for the fact that Dragon Tiger Mountain's position as the ancestral court of Taoism was still unshakable, everyone in the imperial court would've drowned this muddle-headed old Taoist.
Zhao Xituan wandered around the temple that had finally been repaired. He went to the Green Dragon Stream and stared blankly for a while. He seemed to have remembered something and ran to tighten the rope of the bamboo raft. Then, he squatted down and looked at the stream. It was very bleak. After getting up, he shook his robe and returned to the temple. He went to the boy's room and sat by the bed for a while. After sitting for a long time, he still didn't know what to do. He really had nothing to do, so he went to sit by the well. He once lied to his disciple that the well led to Beiliang and was connected to his home. In the end, this idiot would throw hawthorns into the well every time there were hawthorns to pick. He couldn't bear to eat them and gave them to his older brother. As her master, even if he wanted to steal a few to try, it would be absolutely impossible.
Zhao Xituan sat by the well and was lost in thought.
Of course, the old Taoist didn't like Ren Tu who almost trampled Dragon Tiger Mountain, but this didn't stop him from liking Ren Tu's two sons.
His disciple, Huang Man 'er, was not much different from the old Taoist Master's son in his later years.
His impression of His Royal Highness had never been bad. The first time he went to Beiliang Palace, he fought with that cunning little fox. It was very interesting, but he didn't hate her. What he really liked was when the young Crown Prince came to Mount Longhu and bowed to him solemnly.
In this world, there was a great number of aristocratic families, and there was no shortage of daughters of aristocratic families. The more successful a person's life was, the harder it was for them to feel guilty and grateful. They would never be willing to say sorry or thank someone. Compared to casually throwing away a thousand pieces of gold, the former was much more difficult. Weren't the juniors of the Celestial Master Mansion on the mountain the same? Relying on the height that his parents had earned, he had lived on the mountain since he was young. How could he know how difficult it was to make a living at the foot of the mountain? Little did they know that all the high positions, including that dragon throne, and every ancestor who founded the family business, were all bumpkins without exception.
The old Daoist sighed.
All of a sudden, the old man's eyelids began to tremble, and his heart trembled violently!
The old man's expression changed greatly. He quickly pinched his fingers, and his face became paler and paler. He suddenly got up and sat back down.
Zhao Xituan, who was deceiving himself, shouted angrily at the well, "Hsu Fengnian, if you can't protect Huang Man 'er this time, I'll curse in front of your house for as long as I can live in this life!"
The old Daoist cursed and laughed inexplicably.
In his laughter, there was some sadness of not being able to reach the top in his life and letting down his ancestors' expectations, and also some inexplicable open-mindedness.
Zhao Xituan slowly stood up and walked to his house.
— —
In the West Capital of the Southern Dynasties, there was a small hidden building with a huge vat in which a flood dragon hibernated. The hermits in the building, who were used to seeing the most bizarre things in the world, were in an uproar.
Soon, the old woman and the Royal Preceptor of Beimang were alerted and rushed to the small building.
In the old woman's sight, in the position of the Beiliang territory in the vat, the surface of the water that was as flat as a mirror, seemed to have been cut by a sharp weapon for a long time.
After the initial shock, the old woman's lips curled into a sneer. "Catching two fish with one hook?"
The old woman stared at the surface of the water and asked softly, "Other than the Sword Qi and the Copper Man Grandmaster, can you transfer some experts over? Those who are slightly weaker can also do it. "
The Imperial Order of Peace shook his head and said regretfully, "Impossible. Hong Jingyan, who is the closest, can't make it in time. As for those who are weaker, it's useless even if ten or twenty of them go. Besides, the Southern Dynasties border can't be transferred. Most of them are already by the King of the Southern Courtyard. "
The old woman asked, "Is there a possibility of going for wool and coming home shorn?"
The Imperial Order of Peace said indifferently, "It's very difficult for the Copper Man to completely stop Hsu Fengnian. However, it shouldn't be difficult to delay his footsteps and buy time for Huang Qing to force Xu Longxiang to suffer the wrath of heaven. All the Qi Refinement Warriors of the Southern Dynasties are ready. When the time comes, they will add fuel to the fire. "
The old woman nodded.
That was enough.
The old woman suddenly took a step back, but quickly took that step back.
In the vat, something broke the surface of the water.
The Dragon Raises Its Head!
It stared at that line.
— —
He saw Jiangnan and snow again.
An old Daoist began to climb the mountain and walked towards the Celestial Master Residence.
The old man found a yellow-purple Daoist robe that he had not worn for too many years from the bottom of the box. He even combed his hair and beard, causing countless juniors of the Celestial Master Residence to look at him as if they had seen a ghost in broad daylight.
The old Daoist walked towards the Ancestral Hall and bowed to all the portraits of the Ancestral Masters hanging on the wall.
After walking out of the Ancestral Hall, this old Daoist of the Hope generation of Mount Longhu arrived at the top of the mountain.
In the wind and snow, the old man sat cross-legged and laughed softly, "It's said that there's a knife on the battlefield and there's no need to be afraid of dying on the back of a horse. There's wine in the pugilistic world and there's no need to be afraid of dying drunk. I've never dared to kill anyone. I can't even drink enough wine. I've never lived a heroic life. In the end, I'm going to die like this … "
The old Daoist seemed to be talking to the world as he said loudly, "Enjoy yourself!"
The old man stretched out his finger and pierced his eyes.
Then, the yellow-purple Daoist raised his right index finger that was dripping with blood and drew a mark between his eyebrows.
It was like opening the Heavenly Eye.
The old man lowered his arms and gently placed them on his knees. He formed a seal and said peacefully, "Huang Man 'er, this is all I can do. I can't learn how to open the Heavenly Gate. I can't even open the Heavenly Eye."
"If I still can't block the Heavenly Tribulation for you, don't blame me."
The world envied longevity, and Daoists cultivated tranquility.
At the last moment of his life, the old man remembered his disciple's snoring in the Daoist temple at the foot of the mountain a few years ago.
It wasn't tranquil at all, but it was what the old man missed the most.
— —
At the end of winter in the first year of Xiangfu.
The purple-gold lotus at the highest point in the pond in the Celestial Master Residence had withered.
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