The grass blades bent over in fear, and the bark of the trees was cut off by the blade-like wind.
The wind does not come in one rush, but separates one after another, shuttles through the air, and wipes out the burnt smell in the air.
The shirt he had tucked into his pants was pulled out of his waistband, and his thin hair was messed up and tossed around wildly.
There was a wail in the wind, which swept through my ears from time to time.
He could hear clearly, one after another, individual running sounds passing by, fleeing in panic.
Whoosh──whoosh──whoosh──
Phew──
The last sound of running passed by him and disappeared far behind.
The forest suddenly fell into a deathly silence.
Real silence.
Not a breath of wind.
He was still standing, but his whole body was cold and he couldn't even break out a cold sweat.
"Son, go home." Mother's old voice urged.
He stared blankly ahead, his vision blurry and unable to find focus.
The crescent moon stingily cast a little light on him, and then used the clouds to cover it up as if reluctant to bear it.
"My son..."
※※※
Ever since he experienced the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, he had not slept well.
He knew very well that feeling, that excitement, was not caused by the first encounter with the Night Ghost.
Not the first time.
There was one time.
A long, long time ago, there was once...
It’s been too long, is it the memory of birth?
No, he was not born in the woods, and it was not his first-born experience.
No, this was the first time he had experienced the Night Parade of Hundreds of Ghosts since he was a child.
Why is there such a strong sense of familiarity?
He was very confused. He didn't know what he was confused about, he only knew that he was confused.
Since that time, whenever he fell asleep, he would dream.
After waking up from the dream, my body was still so tired, as if I had never slept.
Moreover, he dreams about the same person every time.
A Taoist priest.
A young Taoist priest wearing a straw hat and monk shoes.
The Taoist priest was also very confused, sometimes stroking the long beard on his chin with a worried look on his face.
He sat on a high mountain, with a long bamboo pole beside him. There were copper bells and white cloth tied on the bamboo pole. On the white cloth, there were eight Chinese characters called Douda, and there was also a yellow cloth bag embroidered with Bagua pictures.
The Taoist priest looked at a piece of paper in his hand from time to time, wondering what he was thinking about.
Suddenly, he felt that the Taoist priest in his dream was very kind and familiar.
"I know him……"
Impossible, the Taoist priests seem to be people from a long time ago, not Manchus with braids, but people with buns, much earlier than the Qing Dynasty...
I don’t know what to write on the paper in the Taoist priest’s hand?
The Taoist priest pondered for a while and read loudly: "Spread ashes in the mountains!"
So that’s the case, but I don’t know what it means?
Scattering ashes in the mountains.
The Taoist priest put the piece of paper back in his sleeve, put down his thoughts, and looked at the distant mountains.
It has been several nights, and the dream always remains the same.
Still, he liked it.
The leisurely feeling in the dream was exactly what he had always longed for.
The clouds in the distance appear in various colors as the sky changes, gathering and dispersing under the sky.
When the sun shines high, there are blurry clear clouds.
Towards evening, it turned into strange orange clouds.
Even when he looked at the clouds like this in his dream, he felt very comfortable.
He gradually discovered that it was no longer the Taoist priest who was looking at the clouds, but himself. The Taoist priest had disappeared.
No, it's not missing.
The Taoist priest's bamboo pole was placed beside him, and he was also wearing the Taoist monk's shoes on his feet. When he touched it with his hand, he still had a long beard like a water curtain on his chin.
He is the Taoist priest.
He knows he is.
He always has been.
※※※
As he often eats porridge and vegetables, he rides his bicycle to the factory.
He was forced to leave the cool morning breeze and enter the dull factory. He always felt a little unhappy about the stagnant air.
But the air this morning is a little different from before.
The air was a bit gloomy, with a bit of sticky humidity.
In the bottom of his heart, a sense of vigilance that he had never felt before emerged.
He looked up and looked around, taking a closer look at the place where he had worked for twenty years.
He saw a faint layer of fog floating in the air above him, a disgusting fog that seemed to contain many heavy thoughts.
He walked to the work area and began to operate the machinery skillfully.
But he knew that the fog... or rather the "qi" was still lingering on the high ceiling of the factory.
From that day on, he changed his habit of decades and no longer shaved cleanly. Instead, he trimmed his beard from time to time so that it could grow into a beautiful long beard.
When his wife saw him growing a beard, she happily helped him trim it.
Speaking of this wife, it’s quite bizarre.
A few years ago, when he was in his early forties, a teenage girl ran outside his house, carrying a blue calico bag. She said she was a distant relative. Because her family was broken up and she had no relatives or friends, the little girl lived alone. It's not safe, so I came here to seek refuge.
He asked his mother if she knew this distant relative.
The mother didn't even look at the little girl, and muttered: "Yes or no, just stay here."
Much later, his mother told him: "There is nothing wrong with supporting each other in life." Still no answer.
The little girl lived with him for two years and was very considerate to him. He had been poor all his life. How many times had he been close to a woman? Not to mention a lovely girl? So he behaved himself and didn't dare to make mistakes.
Instead, the girl suggested to his mother: "There are rumors outside that I am a girl whose identity is unknown. Why don't you go get a marriage certificate with your son?" He was frightened.
On the wedding night, he handed over the virginity that he had guarded for forty years. Every time he thought of that tender night, he always had endless aftertaste.
I really don’t know what it is about him that my wife likes? He always feels that he is extremely ordinary and having too much happiness will shorten his life.
After feeling strange in the factory that day, he had a strange idea in his mind.
Taking advantage of his free time after dinner in the evening, he ran to the nearby hillside to look for peach trees. People in these areas would plant some peach trees, but it was not easy to find a good one.
He found a straight and thick peach branch, sawed it off, and then went home and started peeling it hard.
Seeing that his recent behavior was different from usual, his mother came over to see what he was doing: "Son, what are you doing?"
"Making a sword." He replied, his hands still busy.
"Sword? Did you do it for fun?" Mother smiled kindly, "I didn't see you playing with it when you were a child."
"No, I originally had one, but I lost it a long time ago."
This troubled his mother, who didn't remember him ever having a wooden sword.
Her son is about fifty years old. He was already slightly tired, but recently he has been in full swing. It seems that he has encountered something that has made him more energetic...
She was curious.
"What is the use of this sword?"
"I don't know yet, I'll find out tomorrow." He stopped making the sword and stroked his beard.
His mother laughed and said, "You look like an old man if you keep this thing."
"I'm old."
"You are more than ten years younger than your mother and I." The mother pointed to her wife who was sewing baby clothes. "My daughter-in-law is so young, so you are worthy of me."
The wife turned around and said, "Mom, I like him better the way he is now."
He blushed, smiled softly, and continued to fiddle with the sword.
Recalling the atmosphere in the factory, he felt puzzled.
That night, the dream was a little different.
He knew the origin of that piece of paper.
It was written by the Taoist master.
He could see the situation.
A very old Taoist handed this piece of paper to him and said, "Yunkong, since the day you were born, there have been various experiences that hint at your previous life."
"My previous life..."
"First of all, on the day you were born, your father ran down the mountain to find the midwife. He met hundreds of ghosts running from the mountain to the bottom, causing chaos in the village."
"I have heard."
"Then someone broke into your mother's house and helped deliver the baby, so she gave birth to you successfully. But the problem was that although people's voices were heard at that time, no one was seen."
"..."
"Then when you were four years old, the fire spirit invaded your home for no reason, and also attacked you once near Yinshan Temple."
"This..." He knew all this.
"Also, you can see resentment that others cannot. Do you know why?"
"I have no idea."
"This is the result of your previous life's karma that continues into this life."
"Master..."
"This is what your other two masters told me."
"You mean the lamp heart, the master of lamps?"
"Exactly, they can observe yin and yang and have insight into reincarnation. They could tell you directly about the past life, but they want you to explore it yourself."
