The two of them were speechless in the pool. There was no sadness on the sword cultivator's face. On the contrary, after hearing such a sentence, he gradually calmed down.
Just like knowing life, just like knowing death.
Cong Ren walked towards such a creek bridge, sat down there as usual, raised his hand to brush off some snow on the guardrail, and then said softly: "It seems that you have some problems that are causing you great pain. .”
Cheng Lu looked at the sword cultivator in white who was sitting on the creek bridge from a distance, and said softly: "Yes, uncle."
Cong Ren smiled slightly, raised his hand to catch a piece of peach blossom, and looked at it for a long time as if looking at a bright and gorgeous destiny.
"Then such a question should be related to Chen Yunxi."
This is probably not something difficult to guess.
I don't know what means were used to make people like Cheng Lu go back to the year 1002 and ask Cong Ren, one of the three swordsmen who has died in the future.
Nature has only its equivalent.
Cheng Lu lowered his head slightly. The sword cultivator looked at the peach blossoms on the white stone path with a rare confusion.
"Yes."
Cong Ren looked at the peach blossom in his hand quietly for a long time, then threw it into the water and said softly: "Do you know who your master is?"
Cheng Lu raised her head and looked at Cong Ren for a long time, wondering why he asked such a question.
Who is Chen Yunxi?
The world probably knows a little bit about it.
But even to Cheng Lu, the white-haired swordsman in green clothes who had been hiding in the flowing clouds for a long time was also mysterious.
Cheng Lu thought for a long time, not knowing how to answer such a question.
Therefore, there was a long silence in the pool, the peach blossoms were falling, the soft snow was silent, Cong Ren's breathing and heartbeat were very calm, but Cheng Lu's was hurried.
After a long time, Cong Ren smiled softly and said: "Chen Yunxi was a swordsman in the Qingyi era. He is the same generation as my master, or to be more precise, he is the same generation as my master Xie Qiao."
Although Chen Yunxi is known as the Three Swordsman along with Cong Zhongxiao, he is a swordsman of the same generation as Xie Qiao.
When such a sword cultivator did not deceive the young in the world, Cong Zhongxiao was still a fifteen-year-old boy.
From a certain perspective, Chen Yunxi is actually the ancestor of Master Cong Ren, and Cheng Lu is the uncle of Master Cong Ren.
The interweaving of thousands of years and centuries has created such a weird generation.
Cheng Lu just looked quietly at the swordsman who was sitting on the bridge and talking a lot.
Cong Ren looked at Cheng Lu and smiled, and continued: "I have never seen such a sword cultivator, and Cheng Lu is the one who has. Try to think about it, I know more about such a sword cultivator. ,still you?"
Cheng Lu was silent for a long time, and then said softly: "Maybe it's me."
Cong Ren sat there quietly and said nothing more.
Cheng Lu suddenly raised his head and looked up at the snowy night outside a pond, then laughed at himself and said, "So Cheng Lu's trip here was in vain?"
Cong Ren looked at Cheng Lu quietly and said softly: "What made you think of coming here to ask me?"
Cheng Lu sighed for a long time and said slowly: "Zhang Xiaoyu... a diary of Zhang Xiaoyu."
Cong Ren raised his eyebrows.
"This kid still writes a diary? Is this what serious people do?"
Serious people may indeed not keep diaries.
Cong Ren felt that he had indeed slept a little too much. He didn't even know when his disciple started writing a diary.
But the issue at hand is obviously not whether Zhang Xiaoyu keeps a diary, but what is written in the diary.
"What did he write?"
"On December 9, one thousand and two years in the Gale Calendar, my uncle seemed to have discovered something and was looking at the sky in a daze."
When Cheng Lu said this, she suddenly stopped. She looked up at the sword cultivator on the bridge, and then looked down at the sword cultivator in black who had been standing in the pool for a long time.
So what did Cong Ren find?
At this moment, Cheng Lu seemed to finally understand.
Neither the young Hu Lu's sword nor Cheng Lu's sword can cut through the years.
But the Congren can.
So what did Cong Ren see?
A disciple of his who shouldn't be fifteen years old, and this sword cultivator from the Liuyun Sword Sect who shouldn't be here.
Then the problem became the problem.
The answer is buried in the answer.
Cheng Lu stood there in a daze, looking at the fine snow that slowly fell into the pool due to her arrival.
"So...it's just like this?"
Therefore, the dead and withered butterfly I picked up over the years was placed there by myself.
Cheng Lu suddenly felt that the slowly melting snow on her shoulders was very heavy.
So it was natural for me to feel a little tight in my chest.
This sword cultivator from the Liuyun Sword Sect and from the Great Wind Calendar 1004 slowly bent down, leaning on the young Hu Lu's sword and breathing heavily.
When some young men under umbrellas and some bloody swordsmen in white clothes experienced the weight of the word fate, Cheng Lu, who was originally under the stage, also experienced such a majestic, irreversible and irreversible fate. The force of the torrent.
Cong Ren just sat there quietly and looked at Cheng Lu.
After a long time, the short-haired swordsman in black raised his head with a bitter expression, held his sword and saluted Cong Ren.
"Thank you, uncle, Cheng Lu for disturbing me."
Cheng Lu sighed for a long time and walked towards the outside of the pool.
The sword cultivator on the bridge just laughed softly, just like something he did in the past or in a story in the future.
He always likes to say something last.
"But the answer you want may not be available."
Cheng Lu turned back in a daze, looked at the sword cultivator sitting there, and said softly: "So the master uncle actually does know something?"
Cong Ren chuckled softly and said: "Of course I don't know, but Nanyi City, which has been in the wind for one thousand and two years, may indeed be able to give you such an answer."
Cheng Lu stood there for a long time, watching the swordsman in white on the creek bridge move his lips slightly and slowly said a name.
"Bai Fengyu."
The former temple master of Qingtian Dao.
The white wind and rain that stirred up the wind and rain in the world a hundred years ago.
Cong Ren didn't ask Cheng Lu what kind of story there would be in the world next year or the year after.
It's just that in today's world, after all, if there is chaos, it will happen.
Bai Fengyu is naturally a name that cannot be bypassed.
Listening to such a long-standing but familiar name, Cheng Lu seemed to have a lot of hope in her eyes.
Yes, Bai Fengyu.
Although Cong Ren may not know the story of one year, three years and one thousand and four years.
But Cheng Lu knew.
Such an old Taoist who lived until the Tao was shackles to the world was already dead when all the stories began.
So Cheng Lu never thought of such a person.
Bai Fengyu died in Nanyi City.
Although no one knows the first stories.
But many people have already guessed in whose hands such a former Qingtian Taoist temple leader died.
View of mountains and rivers, Li Shi.
Or, in other words, died from some sword intent from the years of Cong Ren.
Cheng Lu held her sword and saluted.
"Please also ask Uncle Master to tell me where the old temple master is."
Although Cheng Lu had heard about Bai Fengyu's death in Nanyi City among the rumors in the world, why did such a Taoist overhaul appear in Nanyi City and where did he exist in Nanyi City? Something that few people know about.
Even among the human sword sect, only Chen Huaifeng, who had personally experienced Bai Fengyu's intrusion into the sword sect, knew about it.
Cong Ren said softly: "Why rush?"
Cheng Lu frowned, wondering what Cong Ren meant.
The sword cultivator sitting on the bridge sighed and said with some guilt: "Bai Fengyu is ninety-nine years old now. In a hundred years, there are not many years left, so why bother rushing around in the snowy night like this?" Are you too busy to disturb such an old man’s peaceful dream?”
Cheng Lu fell silent.
Yes.
People in the world often say not to bully the young in the world.
But before that statement, there was an even older statement.
It is called Laowu Lao, and the oldness of people.
This sword cultivator from Liuyun Sword Sect stood by the pool and said softly: "Then I will go tomorrow."
Cong Ren smiled slightly: "That's a good thing to say."
This is not like such a sword cultivating style.
...
At the end of April in the year 104 of the Gale Calendar.
Cong Xin woke up from the rain of peach blossoms falling quietly.
The little girl sat on the creek bridge for a long time, then stood up, holding the cleanly washed rag doll picked up by Jiang Hehai, taking small steps, stepping on the peach blossoms on the ground, towards the outside of the pool. And go.
Cong Xin didn't stop until he stopped at the swing under the tree house.
Old and decayed things are naturally easy to break.
It's just that the rope that was newly replaced by Cong Ren is probably still very young, so it is still intact and strong and tied there. The knot tied by such a lazy swordsman is also very firm, and there is no sign of slack at all.
Cong Xin stood there quietly, standing in the extremely silent Jianzong Garden, looking at the knot for a long time.
She thought of a certain peach blossom snow.
There was a sword cultivator in white who was repairing a swing for him, and there was a sword cultivator in black who came for unknown reasons.
In human stories, naturally not everyone has a mind that understands everything.
For example, Cong Xin, even that sword cultivator went to the goddess and went back in time under his own guidance.
But it wasn't until today that Cong Xin realized many things.
If only I could sleep more clearly at that time.
Can you guess a lot of future destiny?
Cong Xin thought in hindsight, and the little girl's clean and bright eyes gradually became moist.
Just like the mist that enveloped me one morning by a big lake.
But Cong Xin didn't cry in the end. She just raised her hands and rubbed her eyes with her sleeves. Then she sat on the swing with the doll in her arms, put the doll on her knees, clenched the swing vine with both hands, and looked up. The sky in April is getting higher and lower.
...
Did you anticipate the clouds that day, so your steps were light?
...
The wind blows the white clouds, where have you been?
When I miss you, I raise my head and smile.
Do you know or not?
...
Hu Lu slept very peacefully.
Such a young man has never had such a pleasant sleep since he woke up from that big dream.
When I woke up, it was already bright, but the snow had not stopped yet. The color of winter snow was very peaceful and came through the slightly opened window. The stove had been extinguished.
Hu Lu lay on the bed, tilting her head and quietly looking at the snow outside the window for a long time. Then she got up silently, stood by the window in her underwear, and pushed the window open a lot.
Even though it was snowing heavily, the boy was still a little bit stung by the light in the snow, so he squinted his eyes.
Some sounds of playing cards could be heard from the Sword Sect. Maybe it was because they were in the wind and snow, but they sounded very far away.
But Hulu felt very at ease.
Outside the window are some small buildings used as residences for disciples that extend to the end of the snowy path.
The senior brothers may not be among them, but they must be at the card table.
After all, Nanyi City's wise saying - If you don't play cards in the winter, will you beat your mother?
Hu Lu kept looking at it for a long time, then opened the door and called his senior brother there.
Unfortunately, there was no response from the lazy voice of a swordsman in white.
Hu Lu hesitated a little, then tiptoed up the stairs, climbed up to the second floor, and looked around.
The second floor is still the same as yesterday, except that there are still some sparks in the stove placed next to the door, which is emitting a slight heat.
As for Zhang Xiaoyu, he was no longer upstairs.
Hu Lu had the impression that Zhang Xiaoyu rarely got up so early.
Of course, because of the heavy snowfall for days, Hu Lu didn’t know if it was still too early.
The young man walked up to the second floor again, crossed the bed, walked to the door, and looked outside again.
There was no figure of the sword cultivator watching the snow on the wind corridor outside.
Hu Lu sat down there, moved the stove a little further, and looked at the Jianzong Garden in the snow in silence.
The wind and snow are naturally cold.
It just has an inexplicable sweet taste.
Hu Lu didn’t know why she felt this way.
Maybe it's because the snow particles that fell on the porch look like white sugar sprinkled on sugar cakes.
Hu Lu sat for a while, then continued to rummage on the second floor.
There seemed to be many hidden meanings in Zhang Xiaoyu's words yesterday, which made Hu Lu feel weirder and weirder the more he thought about it.
Just like yesterday, Hu Lu still found nothing today.
The young man worked for a while before finally returning to the wind corridor, tilting his head and frowning at the heavy snow.
There is a swordsman walking slowly in the snow.
It's not Zhang Xiaoyu, but Huaimin.
Huaimin glanced at the gourds upstairs in the snowy path, then silently turned around and walked towards the snow forest near Sanchi.
Hu Lu hesitated for a while, then ran downstairs, took the umbrella, opened it and walked out in the snow.
Huai Min waited there quietly.
Hu Lu suddenly felt inexplicably like he was working undercover.
It’s just that I probably didn’t feel the same resentment that followed three years later.
The two of them stood in silence in the snow.
"Did you find anything?"
Huai Min looked at Hu Lu and said softly.
Hu Lu shook his head and said slowly: "No, maybe Senior Brother Xiaoyu really has nothing, or maybe he hid it too well."
Such a sword cultivator who lived a thousand and three years ago seems to be just an ordinary disciple of the human sword sect who likes to play rogue.
They are two completely different people from the fish named Zhang Xiaoyu in the future.
It’s just that Hu Lu knows it very well.
A swordsman in white like that just hides everything.
But the problem is that Hu Lu doesn't know what Zhang Xiaoyu is hiding.
It's like looking at snow, like standing in the snow.
Everything is white, like an unknown destiny heading in all directions.
Huai Min stood there for a long time, looking at the December snow in the human world, lowered his head, and said softly: "What story did he bring to Jian Zong or the human world later?"
Hu Lu was silent for a long time, and then said softly: "A snow."
A white and bitter snowstorm.
Like the wind and snow sheltered under a certain boy's umbrella.
Huai Min stood there for a long time without saying anything.
It's just snow on the eyebrows.
...
Zhang Xiaoyu was waving his sword towards Yichi.
Such a young man named Hu Gua is indeed very similar to Hu Lu.
This had to give him some weird ideas.
So he planned to come to Yichi and ask Cong Ren.
It was rare for Cong Ren not to sleep - just like the diary written by Zhang Xiaoyu.
The always lazy swordsman sat quietly on the creek bridge, holding his chin and looking at the sky.
Zhang Xiaoyu came over strangely, sat down under the peach tree, looked at it for a long time, and then asked suspiciously: "Master, what are you doing?"
Cong Ren lowered his eyes slightly, looked at Zhang Xiaoyu quietly for a long time, and then said lazily: "It has nothing to do with you, just stay cool wherever you can."
Zhang Xiaoyu looked melancholy at the snowy landscape outside the pond.
It's winter, so of course it's cool everywhere, and Cong Ren is right.
A pond without snow is indeed the least cool place.
Zhang Xiaoyu originally wanted to ask about Hu Lu and see if Hu Lu had a distant relative named Hu Gua, but looking at Cong Ren's indifferent expression, he did not continue to ask.
After all, everyone knows that Cong Ren is lazy.
Lazy and sick, although the latter is no longer something that can be seen in the current world, the prime minister still spared no effort to slander such a sword cultivator.
Cong Ren was naturally thinking about Cheng Lu.
Or about the ancient sword cultivator named Chen Yunxi.
Such a sword cultivator is naturally familiar but extremely unfamiliar to the world.
So what exactly does Cheng Lu want to know?
Although Cong Ren was very curious, he did not ask.
Guessing is certainly fun.
However, Cong Ren's speculation was interrupted by this disciple who suddenly arrived.
Therefore, although the sword cultivator in white clothes on the creek bridge said he was going to cool off, he also put his thoughts on this disciple.
As everyone knows.
Zhang Xiaoyu is not a happy person.
Just pretending to be happy.
Cong Ren remembered something that happened a long time ago.
At that time, I asked this disciple from Shanhe Temple.
"Do you hate Shanheguan?"
The smile on the young swordsman's face disappeared, and then he said softly: "Yes."
"Then you go kill someone in the future."
...
When Cong Ren came back to his senses, the young disciple had already walked far away with his sword, and he was still waving his sword randomly, as if money would be chopped out of the snow.
The sword cultivator on the creek bridge looked at the back of the disciple who was the same color as heaven and earth for a long time and said nothing.
