The sound of a bell fell, and the quaint ritual music sounded, as if from the deep river of time, vigorous and majestic, and the hairs on the priest's body stood up together. Those Chinese people were also solemn, with a pilgrimage-like light, looking at the two temples in front of them.

The silk on the statue in the temple was slowly peeled off, revealing two solemn and sacred statues: on the left is the golden statue of the Yellow Emperor wearing a crown, several feet high, dressed on the right side, sitting on a complicated and gorgeous guide car, looking peaceful, looking at the west.

The one on the right is the statue of the Hongwu Emperor wearing the crown of heaven, but he is sitting on the dragon chair, with a dignified posture, not angry but mighty. Teach people to look up.

The two golden statues were lifelike, as if they were the gods who had descended into the world, and the moment they saw them, the indigenous priests felt cold sweat and their hearts were worried.

These two statues are more solemn and sacred than the statues of the gods of any tribe.

"Stealing the calendar of Emperor Xuan, the spring and autumn of the tenth century; Zhuolu incense, crown the nine emperors and six four people. However, the emperor and the saint opened the Xuan Xuan and turned the Kunyuan. Righteous worship of the dynasty, Qun Lun was ......"

At the top, Tie Xuan has already begun to recite the sacrificial text to the Yellow Emperor. Although the indigenous priests had learned some Chinese, they were stunned to find that they could not understand the whole text.

It is only known that this sacrificial text sounds subdued, full of sacredness, solemnity, and mystery, and is far more "divine" than the prayers of the priests of all tribes.

Looking at those solemn and solemn Chinese people, the indigenous priests felt a strong sense of inferiority. In front of these Chinese people, whether it is civilization or unity, tradition or strength, he feels suppressed from all directions.

At this moment, even the gods that our ancestors had revered for generations were no match for the two statues in front of them.

“…… Here is far away, tin to Hongshi! The mighty spirit of the bow and sword, Jingfeng smoke in Haidian. Fu Ji Lingxiao thunderstorm, help Yan Han Zhongxing; Fudan Nebula, the scenery of China. ”

"Shang Fang!"

After the obscure and solemn sacrificial text was recited, a group of majestic soldiers offered tribute to the Yellow Emperor on the left. The priest found that the vice general Wang was impressively in the ranks, and he was usually a little out of tune, but his face was extremely solemn at this time, as if he was completing some sacred mission, which made the priest even more sideways.

The Chinese immigrants followed suit, paying homage to their "gods" in a very graceful posture, and then inserting the "thin strips" of smoke on their hands into a fine bronze container. The smoke gathered seemed to symbolize the unity of these Chinese immigrants, and the results of such sacrifices made the indigenous priests extremely jealous.

The graceful and solemn sacrifice continued, and the priest watched without blinking. After the Chinese immigrants paid homage to the Yellow Emperor, they consciously took the road to the statue of Emperor Hongwu on the right to bow and salute. The behavior of hundreds of people seemed so orderly, except for the ritual music, there was not the slightest noise. Such a scene is many times more solemn than the roaring and howling tribal sacrifices, and those natives are shocked when they see such a scene for the first time, and they dare not make a sound.

It took a long time for a series of complicated processes to come to an end. The solemn atmosphere almost overwhelmed the natives, and they didn't feel relieved until the sacrifice was over. The priest was still in the atmosphere of the Chinese immigrants' memorial just now, and he didn't know what he was thinking.

It wasn't until Zhang He, the highest knight, announced the opening of the banquet that the atmosphere of the Chinese immigrants became relaxed again. At this time, the square outside the temple was already full of tables and chairs, and a taller stage was set up, and on the stage, there were already people ready to start singing, and the food and drama here were much more exquisite than when they were in the east of the city.

Soon, a few soldiers came and led these tribesmen to eat and listen to the play. The priest was led alone by a soldier to the front of the Lord's seat.

Here, Tie Xuan, Zhang He, Mao Xiang, and Vice General Wang, who acted as translators, were already sitting at the table and waiting. Several people invited the high priest to sit down for dinner, and the high priest watched as they methodically used their elegant chopsticks, while he could only use his hands to grasp the dishes...... I couldn't help but feel an annoying inferiority complex again.

After three rounds of drinking, Tie Xuan gave Vice General Wang a look, and Vice General Wang understood and asked the priest with a smile: "Old Ma, there is something I have never figured out. You natives are thousands of miles away from us in China, but why do you look so similar to us Chinese people? ”

This stunned the priest when he asked. He tried hard to listen to Vice General Wang's explanation, and then he realized that there were yellows, blacks, whites, and so on in this world.

Generally speaking, only the people around Daming are yellow people similar to the Chinese people, and most of these people have Chinese blood. A little further away, there are white people with white skin and heterochromatic eyes.

And the people in their tribe are obviously far away from Da Ming, but they have a similar appearance. It's really incomprehensible.

The well-informed priest could not answer this question, so Tiehyun did not ask the question, but instead asked the priest about the story of their gods and ancestors. In this regard, the priest is like a treasure, using the indigenous language mixed with jerky Chinese, with various gestures, to tell the myths that have been passed down from generation to generation in the tribe one by one.

The sun god, the feathered serpent, the Great Flood, etc., when it comes to the Great Flood, Tie Xuan suddenly interrupts him. "The Great Flood? Your legends also have a great flood? ”

As he spoke, he pointed to the play of "Dayu Controlling the Water" that was being played on the stage.

The priest was stunned, and looked at the "people" on the stage who were fleeing in the "flood".

"Perhaps, I know why we're so similar." Tie Hyun gave the priest a deep look. "According to our Chinese records, many of our compatriots were forced to flee their homes because of the floods that inundated the land."

"I wonder why our legends are so similar, only because of the passage of time and the deviation of some details...... However, it is still generally similar, for example, the dragon is our Chinese deity that has been passed down from generation to generation, and you revere the very similar feathered serpent; The Yellow Emperor once dispelled the fog of Chiyou and restored light to the world, and you worship the equally great Sun God......"

"Even many customs, you are the same as our Chinese people: you like to decorate with feathers, our Chinese warriors still retain this tradition in the Han Dynasty, called 'Yulin Army'; your writing is obscure, but it is very similar to the inscription cast on the tripod during the Shang and Zhou dynasties of China, you are good at farming, and farming is the most fundamental inheritance of our Chinese for thousands of years......

Tie Xuan gushed endlessly, and although the priest only understood the general idea, he was shocked. He had a guess in his mind that was about to come out, but Tiehyun had already told it before him.

"Could it be that you are our compatriots who have been separated in the Great Flood for more than 3,000 years?"

(End of chapter)