Mo Nian left Fulong Mountain. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

He ran all the way, eager to find the direction that Zhang Dushi said.

It took half a day to reach the grove she had mentioned, which was now a large grove with foliage, birds and beasts.

After Mo Nian confirmed the place, he happened to meet a hunter and asked him if there was a temple nearby.

Orion said that he had never heard of a temple, but a Taoist temple did.

Mo Nian was not discouraged, and continued to ask for people, looking for the elderly, after careful inquiry, he finally asked, there was a temple in Shangdang County twenty years ago, it was the only temple in the county, the incense has always been very poor, there is only one old monk in the temple, and then the old monk is missing.

Mo Nian's heart was excited, there was no doubt that it must be the old monk of Yunchi.

He followed the instructions all the way, in a ravine, and found the lonely temple that had collapsed.

Mo Nian stood on the ruins of the temple, saw the ruins of the surrounding walls, overgrown with wild grass, remembered that his mother had lived here, and he was very likely to be born here, he couldn't help but feel a little emotional, standing on the temple and looking down, he wanted to find the stream that the monk Yunchi said.

But as far as the eye could see, there was no water at all, and all the grass grew a foot high.

He understands that a stream often disappears due to geological changes in the mountain, and that if you want to find it, you have to look carefully at the terrain. Following the terrain, he vaguely saw the shape of a small stream, and finally, when Mo Nian was searching along the stream, he saw a wild plum tree.

The tree is not tall or large, sparse and sparse, with many branches, and grows alone in a barren grass.

Mo Nian rushed over.

Under the wild plum tree, I saw a small earthen bag with wild grass on it.

Mo Nian held back his tears, walked over step by step, and found a piece of rotten wood in front of the earthen bag, with vague handwriting on it, which was obviously a tombstone.

Finally confirmed.

Mo Nian stood in front of the grave, surrounded by a deep sense of loneliness.

He thought about it for a long time, and his mother, who he never forged, was buried in a small dirt bag in this desolate place, separated from him forever.

Mo Nian raised his head and looked around, surrounded by barren grass, wild mountains and forests, quiet and uninhabited, the breeze blowing, and the barren grass was green.

Mother turned out to be like this, in this desolate place, a trip is twenty years. No one went to the grave, no one burned incense, no one mourned, and no one came to sweep the floating soil next to the tomb for her during the Qingming Festival.

The years pass calmly here, the stars change, the sun and the moon rotate, the sea becomes mulberry fields, the grass on the grave grows and withers, withers and grows, and the ice and snow are smart, bright and virtuous girls, so fragrant and jade are lost in this quiet land, turning into a loess.

The desolation of time is especially touching here.

Mo Nian knelt down slowly.

It's been twenty years, and for the first time, I've knelt down for my mother.

Kneeling like this, he didn't move, he never wanted to leave his mother again.

Time passes minute by minute, minute by minute, quarter of an hour, hour by hour, Mo Nian is like iron, not moving.

Soon, night fell, and he was still on his knees.

As night fell, the stars in the sky were as vast as smoke, and the stars were brilliant, and all kinds of birds began to fly out of the forest, and all kinds of insects sounded, and the night was more vivid than the desolation of the day.

Mo Nian raised his head, looked at the stars in the sky, and vaguely seemed to see his father and mother, a scholar and a girl, snuggling up to each other, with their backs to him, which moved him.

This kneeling was a day, and it wasn't until the next morning that Mo Nian left, and when he stood up, he staggered and couldn't walk normally for a long time.

He returned to Fulong Mountain and did two things.

First, he spent money to hire someone to carry Zhang Dushi to his mother's grave, and second, he purchased the tools for doing things.

He wanted to do a ritual for his mother in person.

When Zhang Dushi saw Yu Chi Zhaoxue's tomb, he was already in tears, crying. She muttered, "Miss Xue, the old slave has come to see you...... Poor young lady, for twenty years, no one has come to your grave ......", while taking out the yellow table paper of the candle, to pay tribute to the dead.

Mo Nian took out the magic weapon and recited the Sutra of Death for his mother, surpassing the heroic spirit.

This is the most serious Dharma thing Mo Nian has ever done, every detail is extremely standardized, every word is extremely clear, in the murmuring chanting, the ashes of the paper burned, hovering in the sky, unwilling to disperse for a long time, he knows that this is his mother's heroic spirit has not dispersed.

Mo Nian was illuminated by the gentle light of the Buddha, extremely solemn and holy, and small golden characters flew around the air, flying towards the netherworld, making a boat for the undead, carrying her to the world where she should go.

The sound of chanting.

In a trance, Mo Nian saw a young girl standing in the wild grass not far away.

The white clothes are better than the snow, and the fairy spirit is ethereal, like a fairy who walks down from the nine heavens and does not eat the fireworks of the world.

Holy, beautiful.

Suddenly, he stood there, looking at him from a distance, with a friendly smile on his face.

"Mother's ......"

Mo Nian stared straight at the girl and muttered.

The fairy-like girl looked at Mo Nian.

"Kid...... Spring is coming......"

The girl opened her mouth, and Mo Nian's ears came from this illusory and true word, and the voice was gentle and kind, making his heart melt.

Then, she smiled brightly, this smile, a warm wind, seemed to make all the dead grass full of life, so that all the dead wood, have grown flowers, peach and willow green, spring swallows flying, magnificent, full of spring vitality, so that everything becomes vibrant.

Even the wild plum blossom trees are full of flowers, and they are snow-white.

"Spring is coming......"

Mo Nian muttered in his mouth, looking up at the explosive vitality of spring, the cherry blossoms and peach blossoms surrounded him one after another, making his body and mind extremely stretched, as if in an instant, he was out of the withering of autumn, and stood in the holy realm of spring flowers.

Tears twitched in his pupils.

"Spring is coming...... Spring is coming......"

When this illusory and ethereal voice reached Mo Nian's ears, the girl was already gone, and her disappearance was as sudden as it appeared.

"Mother...... Mother!"

Mo Nian couldn't help but chase towards that place.

Zhang Dushi and several sedan chair men around him all looked at Mo Nian in surprise, not knowing what was wrong with him.

When Mo Nian rushed to the place where the girl was standing, looking around, the withered grass was green, silent, and the warm wind was blowing behind him, who was anyone?

Everything withered, and it was back in late autumn.

Mo Nian was stunned.

A long loss.

Zhang Dushi walked over tremblingly and hugged Mo Nian, "Child, have you seen your mother......?"

Mo Nian nodded.

"Miss Xue, after all, it's ...... who loves you"

Mo Nian didn't say anything.

"I'm thinking about ......" Zhang Dushi suddenly sighed, "Can you move your mother's grave?"

Mo Nian turned his head and looked at her.

"This place is barren and decayed, Miss Xue naturally likes flowers and plants, when she is alive, her favorite place is the ancestral tomb of the mountain behind Fulong Mountain, because there, there is a nether fire cherry tree, and the spring night blooms very beautifully. Zhang Dushi said slowly: "Miss Xue once said that if she died, she would be very happy to be buried there." ”

Mo Nian clenched his fists.

"I'll dig up that tree. ”

"Once the Nether Fire Cherry Tree grows, it can't move, and it dies when it moves. If you want to transplant, you have to be a very powerful ghost master. You must not be reckless......" explained Zhang Dushi, who although she was a servant, she grew up in the Wei Chi family, so she was also well-informed. "My old woman is also satisfied to be able to move to the ancestral grave, otherwise it will be a pity after all. Both for me and for Miss. ”

Mo Nian was silent.

He decided to go to Wei Chi Zhaoming again.