Dawang Village!

It is a small mountain village that lives by the mountain, the villagers are simple, do not know the ancestors, hundreds of years like a day of sunrise and rest. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 infoThe village sometimes organizes young and middle-aged masters to go into the mountains to hunt and go out to buy, and there is peace and tranquility. Isolated from the world, it is a great hideaway without major disturbances.

Although the mountain village is small, sometimes, there are outsiders!

Sixty-seven years ago, there was a middle-aged man who was polite and polite, and he felt that Dawang Village was good, so he settled down. He also opened a teaching hall to feed and learn, became a teacher in Dawang Village, and was respected as a Confucian poet by the villagers.

And three years ago, in Dawang Village, another outsider came!

It's just that unlike the Confucian poets, this one outsider suddenly fell from the sky, smashed several rooms, and smashed a big hole.

After the villagers were terrified and investigated, they found that it was a silver-haired young man covered in blood, an extraordinary and simple person, so they rescued the silver-haired young man.

Disappointingly, the silver-haired youth who woke up did not have much specialness.

On the contrary, he did not speak, did not speak, did not laugh, and was demented every day, looking up at the sky. But he still has the strength to help the people in the village chop wood and cut wood, but people are willing to feed him and gradually integrate into the village.

Become the second outsider who is willing to live in this Dawang Village!

"Troubled times, great derivation, sidewalks, deception..."

Lang Lang's reading voice, with the voice of an immature child, rhythmic, resounded in the village houses and fields, full of vigorous vitality, the misty sun of the first birth of the sun, startled the fog and dew.

A silver-haired figure, silently, sat in front of the school building.

Listening to such a loud voice, the silver-haired young man raised his head and looked at the clouds, his eyes were empty and dull, like a lost soul, motionless, provoking the wandering eyes of a few children.

"Uncle Ku is here again!"

A child said in the sound of Lang Shu, and all around, the children who were originally reading hurriedly looked at the silver-haired young man sitting cross-legged, his small eyes were shining, hot, and Uncle Ku was referring to the silver-haired young man.

They didn't give the silver-haired youth any other nicknames, except for Mr. Confucian's education, the important thing is that the silver-haired youth is very good to them and can help them solve a lot of problems.

"I'm going to take Uncle Ku to hunt hares today, and I'm going to give it to Lily!" said the child.

Immediately, the child who looked at him retorted: "No, Uncle Ku can come today, it must be that my father didn't ask Uncle Ku to chop wood, so Uncle Ku must go with me to catch fish today!"

"No, Uncle Ku wants to beat me up, he dares to bully me!" another child retorted.

The children expressed their opinions, and for a while, they quarreled, and the sound of Lang reading abruptly stopped, so that a white-bearded old man sitting in the study hall couldn't help but stand up.

"Do you all want to be disciplined?" roared the white-bearded old man who stood up.

A roar was full of anger, dozens of children shuddered, and hurriedly, picked up the book and read it aloud, and looked at the white-bearded old man who roared angrily from time to time, his face full of fear.

The white-bearded old man is an old Confucian poet!

Sixty-seven years when I came to the village, I knew how to learn and read words, and I trained my grandfathers and fathers who should have been illiterate to become a group of learned people, who knew etiquette and teachings.

Because of this, the prestige of the Confucian poets in the village is very high, and the village chief opened a special school to send all the children of each family to receive the teachings of the Confucian poets, even if their own family members already have extraordinary knowledge.

The children were naturally afraid of him, and because of the Confucian poets, they were a little irritable!

"Humph!"

Seeing that the children were as quiet as cicadas, the Confucian poet in a white robe snorted, pretending to stroke his white beard profoundly, but like a child, he glanced outside the school hall and landed on the silver hair.

The eyes are deep, the light is bright and flickering, and no one knows what the Confucian poets are thinking.

The silver-haired young man, every few days, would come and sit down outside the door when he had time, and never entered the house. Over time, no matter who you are, you have become accustomed to it and become commonplace.

Three years, three years!

Time passed in a flash, it was incredibly fast, even if it was a peaceful and peaceful Dawang Village, there were a lot of changes, and many teenagers and girls grew up and became many relatives.

A lot of wedding banquets were held, a lot of people were added, and even a lot of houses were added.

There are ripples, but there are no big waves, spring goes to autumn, and some are just traces and changes left by the years, and the children in the school grow up and leave, and new children are added.

Only outside the door, the young man with silver hair sitting cross-legged has always been there.

Three years ago, the Confucian poet who could still roar with full breath was much older, panting after walking a few steps, his white beard was a little longer, his eyes were a little more cloudy, and he looked energetic.

At sunset, after the children returned home, the Confucian poet finally walked out of the school slowly.

Facing the silver-haired figure that withdrew its dull gaze and got up to leave, the Confucian poet sighed lightly, looked at him with a deep and cloudy gaze, and gently stepped forward and pressed him down.

"Aren't you leaving?" asked the white-bearded Confucian poet.

The dull gaze was still dull, the empty gaze was still empty, and the young man with silver hair as bright as the stars stared at the old figure, as if he hadn't understood, his lips were tightly closed.

For six whole years, the youth did not speak, did not speak, did not laugh!

This is the entire Dawang Village's understanding of him, but the Confucian poets at this time don't seem to think so, deep and turbid, sometimes clear eyes, looking gently, and faintly: "That's not to go!"

After speaking, the Confucian poet in a white robe raised his hand and pointed at the eyebrows of the silver-haired young man.

"Pedestrian road, heaven deceives each other..."

In the faint voice, the Confucian poet with deep and inexplicable eyes withdrew his old palm, turned around and entered the school, continuing his learning, ignoring the silver-haired young man sitting cross-legged in place.

"Boom!"

At the moment when the Confucian poet's finger was pointed at the center of his eyebrows, the young man's mind was like ten thousand thunderbolts exploding.

The dull and empty gaze, in a trance, was swallowed by a vigorous pull, and in the midst of the shaking of the sky, in front of the dark and lightless eyes, a vague and chaotic picture scroll unfolded violently, revealing in front of the young man's eyes.

The young man who was not shocked, with the clarity of the picture scroll in front of him, for the first time, spit out two words: "Bai Hong!"

The blurry and chaotic picture scroll is infinitely magnified, and inside, a peerless figure in white clothes and long hair like a waterfall appears, alive, with some kind of magical and majestic picture power, showing in front of you.

Another world has appeared!

He didn't have time to answer the Confucian poet who walked away, just staring blankly, his eyes glazed, empty, and speechless. (To be continued.) )