The sound came from a place more than a hundred kilometers away.

The wind is gradually rising, whistling, the snow is falling, Xiaoxiao, the world is foggy, whether it is visual or auditory, is shrouded in a bleak vicissitudes.

But this is for the average person.

Xu Guangling is not an ordinary person, and it is impossible for ordinary people to appear in such a place at this moment.

More than 100 kilometers away, the soft, almost inaudible chanting, but it was so clear, it seemed to be unhindered and unobstructed, he received it, and there was a trace of ripples in the calm lake of his heart.

Xu Guangling walked in the direction where the voice came from.

His steps are not hurried, his figure is like clouds and water, in the background of twilight and heavy snow, looking from afar, like a mountain god.

About half an hour later, Xu Guangling came to a small town at the foot of the mountain.

In a very simple town, there are only about 20 households like this, and Xu Guangling has not even seen the most basic standards such as restaurants, hotels, pharmacies, etc.

The voice came from a house, and it was almost unchanged from half an hour ago.

Xu Guangling did not come closer, but stopped outside the town, blending in with the night.

With the help of the Heavenly Mirror, he saw what he wanted to see.

An old man, lying quietly or serenely on the bed, his breathing had long since stopped.

His wife, a couple who were supposed to be daughters-in-law, and a few people who seemed to be close to the town, sat around the table around the bed in this small room, sitting on the floor, with blankets on the floor.

In addition to the bed, there was also a table in the center of the small room, on which a pile of small stones was neatly stacked.

Mani heaps!

It is the same regulated Mani pile as Xu Guangling saw in the wild just now, but the current one is much smaller, so small that its pedestal is not even as big as a basin.

But size shouldn't matter.

If there is a God, what should be man's appeal to God?

In fact, it is very simple, but there are two, one to eliminate disasters and one to bring blessings. - Mani heap acts as such a medium.

The deceased's wife, whose mouth recited Tibetan scriptures, was occasionally mixed with her own muttering. Whether it is a scripture or a murmur, the general meaning is very simple, expressing the condolences and blessings of the living to the dead.

The other people sitting around the table were also chanting softly, but they were simply chanting, all of them were monotonous sounds, like "oh", "um", etc., as if acting as a background.

Xu Guangling did feel this background.

A kind of mourning, a kind of tranquility.

Before that, he had listened to a lot of music, a lot of sounds, artificial, natural, ordinary music, and religious music, many of which are worth mentioning.

But at this moment, in front of such a kind of coarseness and rudeness, Xu Guangling listened quietly and with his ears down.

The simplest recitation, most likely from an illiterate old country woman, went straight to his heart in an uncanny way.

Then he dragged his mind into thoughts about life and death.

Or, not thinking, but just staring.

This made Xu Guangling's mind uncontrollable for a while.

And in a trance, the next moment, Xu Guangling's own vision passed through the night, through the heavy snow, trees, and the obstruction of houses, and directly saw the scene in the room.

It's still the bed, it's the table, it's still the little rock.

and the dead in bed and the living under the bed.

But in addition, Xu Guangling also saw a faint mist in this small room, like a burning incense.

But there was clearly no incense burning in the room.

Not now, not before.

"Xiaotian, what is this?" Xu Guangling asked the Heavenly Mirror.

"A fragment of consciousness, in the old name, you also have people who call it soul."

Jiantianjing's answer is rarely long, under normal circumstances, its answer to Xu Guangling's question is very brief, it can use one word, and it definitely doesn't use two words.

But Xu Guangling was shocked by its answer this time.

It was also a rare shock for a great grandmaster, "Soul?"

Jiantian Mirror didn't answer, but he didn't know what it did, and the next moment, the wisps of mist in the small room appeared in Xu Guangling's consciousness in a reflective way, and then let him read it as if he were looking at the content of his consciousness.

Scenes.

or blurry, or clear.

or complete, or missing.

And after a while, Xu Guangling understood a lot of things.

About the deceased before his death.

Probably the most complete and clear passage is that shortly after the deceased and the old woman under the bed were married, he learned a poem, a short love poem, from the master in the temple, and then went home and read it to the old woman.

The old woman was not an old woman at that time.

The deceased at that time were not the deceased who were dying of aging.

They are all young.

The image of a pair of young people that Xu Guangling saw was relatively blurry, but what was not blurred was the taste of happiness.

The happiness of that year has continued to this day.

Stretching to the point of crossing life and death.

Perhaps, it is not a delay, but when a person dies, the strongest fragments of his consciousness are like wine that has been sealed for decades and then finally opened.

All frivolity and dryness are gone.

Exclusive mellowness, emanating from it.

Xu Guangling reads and feels such a special memory.

In fact, the life of the deceased is very simple, he is an ordinary villager, and it is such a very remote place, he has never gone out in his life, in his life, the most basic place of activity, that is, this town, and a larger town dozens of miles away, as well as the temples there.

and, herding sheep.

Teenagers, middle-aged, and old people all came over like this.

There is no vastness, no vastness, no intensity, no mystery, everything is so plain and simple.

But in the face of this blandness and simplicity, Xu Guangling was rarely condensed.

Perhaps, what makes him calm is not the plainness and simplicity itself, but the boundary between life and death?

That's not quite right.

For a while, there were no words.

"How will this fragment of consciousness change in the future?" Standing quietly, after a long time, Xu Guangling asked.

"Escape".

Jiantianjing's answer was not unexpected or judged by Xu Guangling, but immediately afterward, Jiantianjing added, "If there is a newborn nearby, there is a certain chance that some of the fragments of this fragment will be absorbed by the newborn."

Xu Guangling was shocked again.

"This ......"

He even hesitated for a moment before he said, "What if a fragment of a scholar's consciousness is absorbed by a newborn?"

Asking this, what appeared in Xu Guangling's consciousness at this moment was a sentence from Yuan Mei's "Suiyuan Poems" in the Qing Dynasty.

"It's too late to read the book in this life."

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Thank you for the recommendation vote support of "Huayun Dreamland".

Thanks to the "DFET" commuter pass.