.

But it is said that Fanxiang fought with the Heavenly Court Divine Clan that day, and the Seven Tricks Divine Spirit gradually lost the spiritual power guidance of the lotus seed transformed by Nalan Rouruo's spirit, and was once again locked by the Samadhi True Fire of Taishang Laojun, and most of the supernatural kung fu was locked, and his mind gradually became chaotic, and he was broken by Erlang God's knife The flame knife, cut off the cloud head, and under the serious injury, he was chaotic, in a trance, and there was no half of his strength under his body, but he felt that the wind was constantly sounding in his ears, and he fell straight to the other world under the nine heavens.

I don't know how long later, he woke up with a wisp of spirit, and was about to sit up, when he suddenly saw a little girl of fifteen or sixteen years old standing in front of the bed, looking at him with concern. The little girl's face was a beautiful bronze, and her eyes shone with a pure sheen. Seeing him wake up, he immediately cheered, "Dad, big brother is awake!" Then, he hurriedly came over and gently pressed Fanxiang, and said happily, "Big brother, you lie down, don't move, I'll call Dad." ...... You've been in a coma for days. He chattered and hurried out of the house.

Fan Xiang gradually adapted to the light in the room, and then carefully looked at the environment around her. It was a thatched hut with a dimly lit interior, a small leaky broken window on the left wall, and the smell of damp grass in the air. The room was very simple, with a crude wooden table and a few worn-out benches against the right wall, and a dilapidated wardrobe against the head of the bed, topped by a bamboo dustpan. Fan Xiang was lying on the bed, and the handle of a knife could be vaguely seen, which seemed to be his Xuanbing Flame Knife. There were a few other things in the dustpan.

He sat up slowly, leaning against the head of the bed. The body has been changed into an indigo coarse cloth shirt worn by the villagers, a layer of linen cloth is wrapped around the arrow wound on the left shoulder, and the whip wounds in other parts of the body have also been ointmented, as if they have recovered somewhat, and there is no pain as at the beginning.

At this moment, the door creaked open, and an uncle in his forties with a bearded face walked in with the wind. I saw a man of medium height, bald and wearing a blue cloth hat, a bronze face, deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and forehead, a blue-black placket made of homespun cloth, which had been washed white, and a burlap belt tied around his waist, which was also washed white, a bowl of green vegetable porridge in his hand, which was cracked like pine bark, trouser legs under his knees, and shoes made of wild boar leather.

He stood in front of Fanxiang's bed, with a happy look on his face, his lips trembled, and finally said, "Little, little brother...... You're awake. ”

"Well, you're ....... Fanxiang looked at the other party.

"Little brother, we are farmers in this village. A few days ago, I was waiting on the back mountain to dig for mushrooms, and when I saw that you were seriously injured and unconscious in the back mountain, I carried you back. Fortunately, you have ointment and pills on you, and I think it is feasible, so I put it on you indiscriminately. ...... Hehe, let's not talk about it yet,...... Let's eat some vegetable porridge first. I'll see if the tiger baby goes to the mountain and gets something back. ...... You're seriously injured, so you'll have to kill an old chicken to make soup. ”

The little girl was looking at Fanxiang happily with a pair of big sparkling eyes behind her.

"Thank you, uncle, for saving your life!" Fan Xiang struggled to get up, wanting to salute the man.

"Little brother, don't move. You call me Uncle Mo,...... Little cherry, here you come. ”

The little girl hurriedly came over, brought the vegetable porridge, and said, "Big brother, don't move, you haven't eaten for a few days." "Feed it with a small spoon and eat slowly.

After recuperating in this farmhouse for two days, Fanxiang gradually gained some strength and was able to slowly get up and move.

On this day, Fan Xiang left the house and came to the small courtyard. Little Cherry heard the sound of the door ringing, and also came out of the kitchen, walked to Fan Xiang's side, and said with a smile, "Big brother, you look better today." ”

"Well, I'm always lying down, and my bones are scattered. Get out and get moving. Fanxiang smiled at Little Cherry and said softly, "It's so quiet here, Little Cherry, why don't you take me out for a walk?"

"Okay, then I'll hold my big brother. ”

The two of them left the courtyard gate and walked slowly along a small mountain road.

This village should have been built in the middle of the mountain, in the shallow spring and April season in the world. The sun in the mountains is hidden in the thick clouds, and the clouds are smoky blue, occasionally covering the trees in the mountains, faintly covering those verdant leaves and branches, and the mountain stream flows quietly in the valley below the mountain, without sound.

The mountain village is located on the relatively flat slope wall in the middle of the mountain, in front of the village is the terraced rice fields reclaimed one by one, the golden terraces are stacked on top of each other, according to the mountain situation, from the foot of the mountain coiled to the top of the mountain, the height is staggered, faintly in the smoke and blue clouds. The village aunt of Tsing Yi, who grows tea in the fields in the village, has some shallow shyness when she sees strangers, which is a kind of subtle beauty. In the meantime, the golden rape flowers are already in dense bloom, hidden in the faint smoke blue clouds, the fragrance of the flowers is leisurely; a few old farmers hoe weeds in the fields, and they will stop during the intermission, sit at the head of the fields, take out their own rolled tobacco, and distribute them to the neighbors who are doing work nearby, greet each other a few times, smoke a few sips, and occasionally faintly hear a few mountain frogs' calls, and then, the mountains will sink into silence, only when the mountain breeze blows, the whisper of the rape flowers ringing. To the left of the mountain village is a verdant tea plantation, and there are also peach blossoms and pear blossoms interspersed among them, and the gorgeous blooms are dotted on the green hills in the middle of the hillside during this season.

The village dwellings are dotted and scattered, and from a distance, they look like inconspicuous black and brown stones scattered among the mountain flowers. There are several ancient sandalwood trees that are thousands of years old and verdant on the edge of the threshing floor in the village. The moss of the old tree is old, with a faint black and green color.

The two walked in the village, looking up at the old trees in front of them, the old village, the old wooden houses, and the farmhouse fireworks that were lit out in the old stove. This is an old village, and most of the villages are old wooden houses, with green tiles and gray walls, and moss and mountain grass that have grown over the years. Fan Xiang followed behind Xiao Cherry, walking casually along the uneven bluestone slabs, as if walking on the silk silk that had turned yellow over the years. Under the eaves of the wooden building, several elderly people sit on bamboo chairs under the eaves, around a small table, warming the new Longjing tea before the Qingming Festival this spring, wearing the coarse porcelain blue and white shading tea cup, talking about the vernacular of the world that Fanxiang does not understand, chatting leisurely about some trivial affairs, quietly, and serenely in the wrinkles between the eyebrows, just like a sketch scroll in the memory of the years. Occasionally, three or two half-year-old children would run out of the house, begging for snacks on the table. A few peasant girls dressed in dark striped green clothes walked past them with baskets on their backs, sometimes looking back at them quietly, with shy eyes and whispering, covering their mouths and laughing softly from time to time, laughing at each other, and walking away.......

Occasionally, there are a few cherry blossoms on the side of the road, separated by pink flowers, but they are not very beautiful. The flowers and branches are still hanging with unfinished dew, which must have been wet by the smoke and rain this morning. One or two big yellow dogs lay under the eaves, half-wide and lazy, and a few inconspicuous little yellow chickens walked idly in the streets, pecking and chasing each other, and occasionally cooing twice.

The faint smoke and rain drifted obliquely, and the cool wind swayed slightly in the narrow village road. The cherry blossoms are swaying and the branches are pink, and the floating dark fragrance is leisurely in the heart.

Fan Xiang walked on the village road, watching spring enter April, and the years reappeared in the past. ...... Those familiar breaths, those mottled old walls, those wild grass still grow on the wall, such as the blue and white on the Song porcelain, the traces of green shadows, and some spring coolness, swaying in the heart, is so strange and familiar. I can't help but think of the year when I went to the world with my master to heal people, and I can't help but feel a little melancholy,—— yes, in the years that have been lost, the old time that has passed, the old time that has passed, and the girl who has forgotten the river that no longer appears, are all in time, disappearing into the shallow old story, which makes people feel cold!

Fan Xiang walked gently, fearing that the peace and tranquility in this world would be disturbed.

In the village villages, there is usually a small courtyard without walls, and in the near noon, the smoke of cooking will always rise in the chimneys of the villages, curling and quietly diffuse, and the blue sky in this big mountain and hill will be ethereal.

The courtyard of the village, generally speaking, there is no furnishing in the courtyard, only three or two peach trees, blooming with the pink flowers of this season; under the peach tree, there is an old stone mill that is not too big and small, and the stone mill is very clean with water; between the branches of the two peach blossom trees is a bamboo pole, which is hung with smoked local pig bacon from years ago, and it is slightly swinging in the cool mountain breeze. The whole yard looks, simple, neat and clean. There were a few inconspicuous little yellow chickens walking idly in the courtyard, pecking, chasing each other, and occasionally cooing twice. In the courtyard, there is a four-bay wooden building with hanging legs, which is a wall with black-brown wooden boards, blue and gray tiles, and two slightly warped eaves ridges, and on the left side of the eaves of the wooden building, there will probably be a wooden dustpan used to blow away grain impurities, and there are still scattered old grain particles left in the wooden bucket of the wind.

An elderly farmer's mother-in-law is sitting on a bamboo chair in front of the door of the hall under the eaves, holding the sole of a shoe spliced with rags, quietly, serenely wrinkled between her eyebrows, like a thread-bound book in ancient times.

Fan Xiang and Little Cherry walked over gently, sat on the old bamboo chair opposite the old man, quietly watched the old man skillfully holding the soles of his shoes, from time to time he would use the needle in his hand to sweep between his pale hair, and then pierce the sole, and then use the thimble ring on the index finger to push the needle out of the head, and then pull out the needle and thread together, and so on.

"Second grandma, this big brother Fanxiang is a guest of my family, come to see you. ”

The old man looked up at Fanxiang and Little Cherry, and smiled slightly, "Little Cherry, what are you talking about?...... Oh, I'm going to drink my tea, well, okay, okay. The second grandmother put her hand behind her ear, as if she couldn't hear the little cherry clearly, and her sunken eyes were no longer clear because of her age, but they were peaceful and serene. The old grandmother nodded at Fanxiang, said hello to Fanxiang, then stood up, walked into the back room tremblingly, took out a lukewarm tea, a teacup with a coarse porcelain blue and white shading, and put it on the small wooden table in front of her, poured it full, smiled, and said in a local accent, "Young man, come, drink tea, this is home-grown, taste it!"

"Thank you, second grandma!"

Fan Xiang looked at the old man, as warm as a tea cup within reach—like the kindness of the master.

The peach trees in the courtyard gently swayed their branches in the mountain breeze, the shadows of the flowers were pink, the dark fragrance was leisurely, and occasionally wild bees flew between the flowers and leaves of the peach trees, stopped, and then flew away.

The old man's stitches and threads are skillful and quiet.

The people living in the village are only associated with the landscape, only the simple simplicity, the faint beauty, in the mountain village alone to guard their own side of the Qingming world, full in their own pleasant spiritual world, like the landscape idyllic of the Wei and Jin Dynasty at ease and leisurely, is the vast world of all beings, but also not the flashy red dust of the mountains and wild wonderful people, just like filtering through the silk and dark flowers in the water traces, pure and clean!

Fan Xiang stood up silently and bowed deeply to the old man, the old man slowly raised his head, looked at Fan Xiang's eyes, nodded gently, the old and dignified face was still that slight smile, like the master's smile, and the deeply sunken eyes were still peaceful and serene, making Fan Xiang feel warm and comfortable.

Fanxiang and Little Cherry walked along the dirt road in the village, walked up to a small earthen platform, and looked far away, the hills and mountains of the mountain stretched far and wide, covering the vision and tranquility of the mountain village, and also covering the glitz and hustle and bustle in the red dust of the world.