start

By the time Chu Feng returned to the grassland, it was already midnight, and a bright moon hung high in the starry dome, and the bright light sprinkled all over the forest. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

At this time, it is the middle of winter, and only the dead branches of the sycamores are left, like bald pens.

In the moonlight, the shadows of the sparse trees overlapped and cast on the earth.

One is like thick ink, one is like burnt ink, and the other is like light ink, mottled and delicate.

With the spring breeze walking in the forest, the jagged shadows also danced one after another, reflecting each other, graceful and light.

The branches rubbed against each other, and the snow on the branches echoed each other, making a slight and moving rustling sound, like a person in a dream, more like a poet's sigh when wandering under the moonlit night.

In the forest, there is a small beast haunted, stepping on the fallen leaves that have long been dried in the autumn and the newly fallen snow, the sound of "clicking" and the crisp popping sound ups and downs, connecting in the mountains, sometimes from far and near, sometimes from near and far, and the black phantom between the contrast.

The resident birds perched on the branches also murmured in the wind.

Sharp, crisp, turning, high, low, all kinds of birds chirping one after another in the branches, surrounded by such a noisy noise.

This kind of hustle and bustle did not make people feel irritated at all, but made Chu Feng feel that at this moment, all the voices were ringing in unison, as if they all had spiritual sense.

Chu Feng was stunned in the forest for a while, looked around, and suddenly realized that the universe of heaven and earth was so big, and his life was as slim as an ant.

Suddenly, a vast and desolate flute sound rose leisurely between heaven and earth, looping ups and downs, undulating endlessly.

At the beginning of the flute, the sound of suppressed whimpering, like crying and complaining, as if it had experienced the pathos of the heart, listening to it, I couldn't help but arouse thousands of sorrows in my heart, grief and depression, difficult to express, and I couldn't help but tears full of clothes.

The sound of the flute was low and suppressed to the extreme, but it changed abruptly, and a scream came, and the sound of the flute instantly became high and intense.

The grief that had accumulated in his chest was like a flood that burst the embankment, tumbling and boiling, surging endlessly, pouring for thousands of miles, and any obstacle that stood in the way was as vulnerable as a chicken and a dog, and was wiped out in this rolling torrent.

A torrent of thousands of miles endlessly, like a wild horse free and horizontal, galloping thousands of miles, seeing that the high-pitched tone is about to be exhausted, the flute suddenly bursts out, and it bursts out more and more high-pitched, more and more agitated and more and more violent tones, just like the nine days of hanging river straight down, devastating and decaying, indomitable, so that the listener has a sense of generosity, and the grief in the chest is finally relieved.

As the Nine Heavens Hanging River falls into the river and sea, the tune gradually tends to be gentle and soft, becoming melodious and free, eclectic, not blocked by external objects, fluttering like a butterfly, fluttering as if a fairy.

Time and space are no longer shackles that bind people at this moment, and in the face of this state of freedom, all external objects are no longer a problem.

A hundred generations of time, thousands of miles away, so what?

The spirit is freed from the shackles of the body and can be transcended in that instant.

Chu Feng suddenly remembered the story in the "Nanhua Sutra".

In the past, Zhuang Zhou dreamed of Hu Die, and Hu Die was lifelike, self-proclaimed and suitable, but he didn't know Zhou Ye. Oh Ran Jue, then Yu Ran Zhou also. I don't know that Zhou's dream is Hu Die, and Hu Die's dream is Zhou?

Is this the state of state?

The sound of the flute gradually became ethereal, as if it had traveled through thousands of years of time, in the torrent of time, through the big waves and sand, accumulating a few times that I don't know, experiencing a few changes in the world, and a lot of joys and sorrows.

It is like a bright moon that has seen the vicissitudes of the world, reflecting thousands of generations of people on the mountains and rivers, and then trying to find the old people, has turned into the dust and smoke of the past, insignificant and untraceable.

Chu Feng suddenly thought of the flowing water and the bright moon again.

The endless water in the rivers has never been cut off for thousands of generations, and the bright moon has been cloudy and sunny year after year, but it has never been seriously missing.

What changes, or doesn't change, is just a different perspective for people.

From the point of view of change, everything is always changing, and from the point of view of immutability, nature has never really changed.

Naturally, so do people.

Those who change are instantaneous, and those who do not change are eternal.

Chu Feng didn't know how long he had been wandering in the night, how long he had been groaning, until the sound of the flute had dissipated for a long time, and Chu Feng had come to his senses.

Chu Feng was stunned, and suddenly laughed, feeling that his whole body was relaxed, but this feeling of pleasure and relaxation was unprecedented, compared to the freedom to fly in the sky that he once envied, it was this feeling that made him feel closer to freedom.

Chu Feng slowly stepped back to the grass house, but saw Chen Han, who was dressed in gray, standing by the pond with his back hand.

Chu Feng had just approached, and Chen Han had already said, "Are you back?"

"The apprentice has returned. Chu Feng said.

"Any ideas?" Chen Han asked.

Chu Feng was stunned: "What do you think about the master...... Is it to deliver the letter, or is it the flute just now......"

"Both. Chen Han said.

"I don't have any ideas about sending letters, I have some thoughts about the sound of the master's flute. Chu Feng said, and said what he was thinking just now without reservation.

After Chu Feng finished speaking, Chen Han didn't speak for a long time, but raised his head slightly, looked at the bright moon in the sky and was silent for a long time before he said: "Life is infinite from generation to generation, and Jiang Yue looks similar every year.

This poem Chu Feng only recently read in Chen Han's poetry collection, but it was called "Spring River Flower Moonlight Night".

Chu Feng felt very meaningful when he first read it, although he couldn't tell where the magic was, but as soon as he read it, a vivid and detailed scene would appear in front of him.

Even Chu Feng was a little hard to believe that such a thing could be done just by words.

"Xi Wu, what do you think is the difference between us cultivators and mortals?" Chen Han said suddenly.

Chu Feng pondered for a moment before he said, "It's just that the life span is longer and the ability is greater." ”

"Then do you think this is good or bad?" Chen Han asked.

Chu Feng pursed his lips, was silent for a moment, and said, "It's not necessarily good, it's not necessarily bad." ”

"Why do you say that?" Chen Han laughed.

"It's a long life, and it's better to do what you want to do. Saying that, Chu Feng also laughed embarrassedly, he just thought so, but there was no evidence to support it.

"You see mortals, the lifespan is only seventy or eighty years, the enemy is not sick, can not withstand the frost and cold, and is entangled by the suffering of red dust, but there is never a shortage of people who think beyond things. On the contrary, I am a cultivator, after so many years, how many people really have such a thorough thought?"

"Because of the short lifespan, so cherish the time, because of the separation, so care about reunion, because of the suffering, so the pursuit of spiritual detachment......" Chen Han looked up at the bright moon and sighed softly.

"In this way, don't you think that the spiritual realm of mortals is far beyond that of my generation of monks?" Chen Han smiled and asked rhetorically.

Chu Feng was silent for a moment, then thought about it carefully, "But not everyone in mortals has this realm, right?"

Chen Han was slightly stunned and looked at Chu Feng.

Chu Feng paused before continuing: "Mortals are also very envious of monks, because mortals only rely on their own pace, chariots and horses, many people only stay in the place where they were born for more than a hundred miles in their lives, and they can't see all the rivers and mountains in a blink of an eye like monks...... These are the envy of mortals, and if they are given the opportunity, they may not want them, right?"

Chen Han stared at him for a long time before he opened his eyes and waved at Chu Feng, so frightened that Chu Feng hurriedly returned the salute.

"You're right, I'm a little too paranoid. Chen Han said very seriously, "I have been among the monks for a long time, and I only saw the monks gnawing on the leftovers of their predecessors, and the realm generation was not as good as the generation, but he just embarked on the wrong path of the supremacy of strength and was born with such emotion, but I also forgot the pain of mortals." ”

Chu Feng was silent, there were some things he would never forget, because of his mother's death, for him, it was a regret that could never be made up.

If my mother had been a monk, she wouldn't have left so early, would she?

He wouldn't be here now, and he couldn't even remember what his mother looked like, right?

"Xi Wu, you have a simple heart, and you are the best child I have seen in so many years. Especially being snubbed and insulted without being jealous is really rare. Chen Han paused before saying, "You come from among mortals, and you don't forget the pain of mortals, and I hope you can keep this point." ”

Chu Feng was silent.

Chen Han smiled, and found that he was a little too anxious, the young man in front of him was still a child, and there would be many things waiting for him in the future.

No matter who it is, there is no guarantee that the future teenager will be what he has in mind.

It's just that Chen Han will inevitably have some expectations.

Whether it was the young men of Fengming Villa he was familiar with, or this newly recruited disciple, in these people, he saw a force that was about to break the staleness.

These young people will be the hope of the future.

"Xi Wu, let's start practicing tonight. Chen Han said, "It's just that I hope your strength will never go astray." ”

Chu Feng also nodded, the trip to the demon world had already made him see the chaotic situation of the idea that the winner is king, in order to snatch the treasure, how many people died on the spot, blood flowed all over the ground, but the murderer didn't care, talking and laughing, treating other people's lives as if they were mustard, and despicable as ants.

Is the world of cultivators really a world where the weak eat the strong, either killing people or being killed?

How many times did Chu Feng feel confused about this, his personality was really not suitable for such a world, should he turn around and leave, but suddenly he also felt that people who had the same thoughts as him did exist.

A word to readers:

This chapter is a bit of a tribute to the detached predecessors, and it also depicts the mortals and cultivators in my heart, which is why I don't write mainstream fantasy texts, after all, I can't let my characters completely go against my own thoughts. I also believe that a person's pursuit should not be just material, but simply chasing power.

Just like writing this story at my feet, there is indeed a fantasy that I may be able to survive on this, but more importantly, it is also because writing such a story can make my own heart more satisfied.

Finally, I wish you all a happy weekend~~~

end