Of course nothing in this world is inevitable.
Nothing is bound to happen.
People in the world often use historical empiricism to judge the existence of things.
If there is a broken tile on the street, people will look up at the eaves.
But that tile might have been left there by a naughty child.
Or maybe a Taoist learned the sword and was very excited to show it off, so he used the tile as a flying sword, sent it thousands of miles away, and broke it into pieces on the street somewhere.
Zhu Congwen didn’t know what kind of path he would take in the future.
So he said sincerely that he didn't know.
Xu Chunhua would not have thought of it either.
It turns out that the friend in Nandao is Mei Xiyu.
This small-town girl stood in the morning wind for a long time, looking at the silent young Taoist priest in Taoist robes. She thought about it, but she still couldn't understand how such a young man from the south and from books could do it. Became friends with this Taoist from Qingtian Dao.
Nan Dao and Mei Xiyu are naturally not friends.
In fact, if it is a story from the past years, there is actually some enmity between the two.
Mei Xiyu was forced to leave Qingtian Road, go to Lingnan, and come to Huaidu, all because of a letter written by a certain boy.
It's just that when people describe something, they always have to give them some reasonable and relevant identities.
Xu Chunhua didn't think about these things.
How could Mei Xiyu figure it out?
The distance between Meixiyu and South Island is extremely far.
So when a young man said that he had a friend who might be implicated, Mei Xiyu never thought that that so-called friend would be Xu Chunhua from a small town at the foot of Qingtian Road Mountain.
Mei Lang already hated Pengshan for being so far away, and even more so because he was separated by 10,000 layers of Pengshan.
Mei Xiyu felt that even if Shui Zaiping died suddenly on the streets of Siwufang, it would be more realistic than the name of the friend in Nandao who needed his care was Xu Chunhua.
So the two of them stood for a long time, silently and relatively speechless, on the streets where humans and demons passed by side by side.
It’s just that there probably isn’t any story that is relatively speechless and only filled with tears.
After a long silence, the Qingtian Taoist laughed softly, and raised his hand to sweep away a locust leaf that had fallen into Xu Chunhua's hair without knowing when.
"It turns out that the friend Nan Dao was talking about was you...Xu Chunhua."
The story actually happened not that long ago.
Even for the world of hundreds of years, this is just a story from winter snow to summer.
It had only been half a year since Mei Xiyu left the small wooden house with white plum blossoms and snow.
Xu Chunhua opened her mouth, probably wanting to say something more, but she didn't seem to have anything to say, so she just said softly: "Yes."
There is no very warm emotion in such a recent story. Perhaps it is not long enough. Even if such a small town girl stayed quietly in the town and planted flowers, those flowers would probably not bloom so quickly. It's very brilliant.
Mei Xiyu didn't express any emotion that the old friend's heart would remain forever and the old friend's heart was gone. She just looked at the spring flower woman in front of her with a slight smile.
Taoists naturally have eternal hearts.
The white plum snow in May is no longer visible.
But Meixi rain is still Meixi rain.
So at a certain moment, when he was blowing the human wind passing through the long street, he subconsciously thought of a stove under a certain eaves, an empty flower stand in the snow, and a man wearing a floral dress holding a small white umbrella. Skirt, a coquettish girl who secretly drinks wine.
Of course Xu Chunhua is still Xu Chunhua.
So when she saw the same warm smile on Mei Xiyu's face that one winter day, there was still something soft and crystal clear in her eyes.
Such a Taoist has never smiled like that at others.
Perhaps the only person who has ever seen such a smile is Xu Chunhua.
So the small town girl took a step forward, hugged the Taoist, opened her mouth, and bit down on his shoulder.
At that moment, perhaps thousands of emotions and tastes surged into Xu Chunhua's heart.
Maybe it's guilt, maybe it's grievance, maybe it's tiredness, maybe it's weakness after being frightened.
Mei Xiyu hadn't smiled like that for a long time.
Xu Chunhua hasn't acted coquettishly for a long time.
The small-town girl who always walks quietly and hurriedly on the streets of Huaidu feels very unfamiliar when she recalls the gentleness of the past.
So she bit the Taoist on the shoulder.
The strong smell of blood after biting through the flesh is as intoxicating as old spirits.
Xu Chunhua let go, but did not let go of her hand. She just lay on Mei Xiyu's shoulder, looking at the dawning sky in May with tears in her eyes.
The small-town girl probably stood there in pain.
When she decided to come to Mei Xiyu, she had not thought about such a thing - she found that she seemed unable to speak to the Taoist in front of her.
The story of the intersection of young people brought about by Chen He’s story.
It was impossible for such a small town girl to say it in front of Mei Xiyu.
Mei Xiyu didn't know what Xu Chunhua was thinking, but just patted her back and said softly: "It's okay, whether it's Heaven's Prison or Demon Mansion, they won't cause trouble for you."
The Taoist thought that the small-town girl who had just accidentally taken in such a helpless boy was frightened by such a bloody story.
After a long silence, Xu Chunhua finally let go of her hand, retreated to the courtyard door and stood there, raised her hand to wipe her tears, and then said softly: "Can you do me a favor?"
When Mei Xiyu heard such words, she suddenly fell silent.
Then he looked at the woman in front of him and said slowly: "It's too late."
Xu Chunhua suddenly raised her head and looked at Mei Xiyu.
The latter said softly: "Just last night, the people from Siwu Demon Mansion took action."
Xu Chunhua stood there in a daze, thinking about the young man standing quietly under the umbrella on the street.
"What about South Island?"
Mei Xiyu turned to look at the Siwu Demon Mansion across the long street, and said slowly: "He is fine, but he was taken away by the people from the Heavenly Prison."
Xu Chunhua stood there silently, seemingly relieved, and said nothing more.
Mei Xiyu looked at the woman at the entrance of the courtyard and continued: "Do you want me to help rescue him?"
Xu Chunhua was silent for a while, and then said softly: "I don't know, but at that time, I could only think of coming to you."
Mei Xiyu looked at the small town girl in front of him for a long time, without mentioning such a thing again, and reached out to hold Xu Chunhua's hand.
The hands of the small town girl who had not slept all night were ice cold.
Mei Xiyu turned to look at a restaurant that had opened somewhere in Siwu Square, then looked at Xu Chunhua with pity and said, "Let's go have something to eat first."
Practitioners rarely have such a sense of time.
It’s just that there is rain in Meixi.
Xu Chunhua nodded and said softly: "Okay."
...
Because some people are picky about food and have never eaten anything delicious and cannot write anything delicious, so on the table by the window of the restaurant, there is just a bowl of noodles covered with shredded pork and sprinkled with chopped green onion.
Perhaps the most delicious thing in the world is noodles sprinkled with chopped green onion.
Xu Chunhua rolled up her hair and sat there eating noodles quietly.
Mei Xiyu also sat quietly aside, looking at this small town girl who came to Huaidu for some reason and got involved in some stories for some reason.
"How do you know such a young man from Lingnan?"
Mei Xiyu finally asked such a question.
Xu Chunhua's hand holding her face stopped there, and she turned to look out the window. After a long time, she turned back and said softly: "When it snowed last year, a man named Chen He came to the small town. people."
Mei Xiyu asked about young people, while Xu Chunhua talked about a young man who sold poems from his youth and made iron plate tofu the best in the world.
This seems to be a bit misleading.
It’s just that Xu Chunhua understands that some things cannot be avoided by such a person who comes and goes like the wind.
Mei Xiyu had no doubts and just sat there quietly listening.
The small-town girl stuck her chopsticks into the bowl in front of her, like a child who had made a mistake, and told a story that began in the snow on a certain winter day with a low eyebrow.
The story begins with a biography accidentally lost in the town.
The sky in Siwufang gradually became brighter, but because the locust trees were stagnant, such a neighborhood stopped above the ground. After all, the many hanging streets and tall buildings still brought some shadows.
Some locust trees on the street are shaking their leaves in the wind.
This story is not long.
But Xu Chunhua still talked for a long time.
A short story may not be uncomplicated.
For example, some stories about lively and quiet New Years in the winter snow, some spring drizzles, the sound of Tianyan cars passing through the green mountains, the amazement when seeing Sophora City for the first time, facing the vast clouds and rivers after the evening rain at a loss.
There are also some searches that seem to never come to fruition, and lonely waiting in the clouds.
So the flowers planted in spring seemed to bloom in the wrong place accidentally.
So the stars are bright and the wind is light.
Xu Chunhua once thought that she would not know how to face such a story, but when everything really came to this point, when the Taoist she had been searching for seriously sat across from her.
Xu Chunhua discovered that she could actually tell those stories calmly.
Perhaps as Chen He said, fate will bring those who are destined to wherever they should go.
For example, a bowl of noodles in a restaurant and the wind blowing through the streets in May.
It wasn't until several leaves fell by the window that Xu Chunhua slowly finished telling such a story. She seemed to be relieved, but a stone was lifted in her heart. After a long silence, she dared to raise her head. Go see a Taoist like that.
Mei Xiyu didn't say anything or do anything. She didn't even change her posture. The practitioner's concentration may indeed be very good.
Naturally, this is especially true for Taoists who do not want to get entangled in many stories.
But Xu Chunhua suddenly lowered her head, picked up the chopsticks and started eating the noodles.
The Taoist just smiled softly and asked her a question.
"So are the flowers blooming?"
Xu Chunhua swallowed the noodles wholeheartedly, her eyes were red, as if a lot of wet and salty things would fall down at any time.
Of course the flowers bloomed, and they have always bloomed.
Xu Chunhua is not Cong Ren, but she is also a human being but not a dream.
Sometimes the wind in the world is too messy, and those flowers in the spring breeze will inevitably sway, not knowing where they should fall.
But the wind will stop.
The wind will stop.
Xu Chunhua thought like this, raised her head, swallowed the mouthful of noodles, smiled with tears in her eyes, and looked at the Taoist with a faint look.
"Of course she drove it. Look, she drove it very well."
...
The wind and snow at the foot of the mountain was very strong, and even Nan Dequ felt that the wind and snow were like some sword intent scattered in the world, and it hurt his face.
However, the fire beside the rocks was very prosperous, like a huge and brilliant pumpkin flower.
The young man named Chen He who was coming to Luming to sell sizzling tofu was taking the board used to carry things from Tianyan's car and was huddled by the fire writing something.
Nan Dequ opened his eyes, his sword intent disappeared, and sighed softly.
Naturally, this thirty-six-year-old human sword cultivator also stayed in the ninth realm of the minor path.
Since entering Luming, heading west, Nan Dequ has been trying to break through.
It's just like what Zhang Xiaoyu said, whether they can enter the Great Dao is unknown even to them, disciples of the Human Sword Sect.
Not everyone is a fish called Zhang Xiaoyu.
Not everyone is a young man under an umbrella who can’t see the wind and snow in the world but is covered in fine snow.
The Dao Fruits in Nan Dequ's Divine Sea are probably still not enough to support him to enter such a realm.
As the sword intent dissipated, the wind and snow that had been roaring all year round became more violent in this place. Nan Dequ looked at Chen He who had put down his pen and ink and stretched out his hand to bake. After thinking about it, he still left some sword intention to disperse the wind and snow everywhere.
"what are you writing?"
Nan Dequ looked at Chen He and asked curiously.
As Nan Dequ practiced, he would sometimes see Chen He nesting in the wind and snow writing something.
Chen He was warming his hands and said, "I have nothing to do and write some random stories. Do you want to read them?"
Nan Dequ thought for a while and looked at the fierce wind and snow outside the mountain. Such a situation was naturally not suitable for rushing. It was probably indeed suitable for sitting by the fire and reading some stories, so he nodded.
Chen He sorted out the newly written papers in front of him, then reached out and handed it to Nan Dequ.
Fortunately, there is a sword cultivator beside me, otherwise the wind and snow would have blown away all the written things.
Nan Dequ found a comfortable position - people from the Human Sword Sect were probably able to find a position that was as comfortable as the rest of the world.
The sword cultivator leaned against the rocks on the side and began to look at it carefully by the light of the fire in the wind and snow.
After reading the beginning, he looked at Chen He strangely.
"Why do you feel like this is not the beginning of the story?"
Chen He smiled and said, "I wrote a lot of them before, but I just left them with Huaidu and forgot to take them with me."
Maybe even if he brought it, Chen He probably wouldn't show it to Nan Dequ.
After all, there is a young man in the book who slashes Chen Yunxi with his sword, splits Congren with his sword, and seizes the Taohuaxi Bridge in the Jianzong Garden to make his own bed.
If Nan Dequ saw this, even though he wouldn't argue with Chen He, it would still not be good after all.
Nan Dequ didn't pay attention and sat there quietly watching.
Chen He warmed his hands and started singing some weird songs again.
Why don't you go your way until we are no longer in contact, I may dance alone, maybe walk alone in the streets.
Nan Dequ has become accustomed to it, reading the story written by Chen He next to a snowy mountain fire.
Such a story is not long, although Chen He wrote it eloquently for many pages.
"Chen Caomu can't be you."
Nandequ muttered there.
Chen He smiled and said, "Yes."
"What about Xu Chunhua?"
Chen He thought for a while and said seriously: "Xu Chunhua is of course Xu Chunhua."
This sounds like a lot of nonsense.
The wind and snow gradually calmed down, and when some twilight in the sky fell through the wind and snow on the top of the mountain, Nan Dequ finally finished reading such a story, sorted out the papers, returned them to Chen He, and then read without hesitation. Looking at the young man who was smiling slightly and humming a tune.
Chen He looked at Nan Dequ's expression, raised his eyebrows, and asked, "What's wrong?"
Nan Dequ shook his head and said, "Nothing."
This sentence was probably false, so after saying it was nothing, Nan Dequ probably still couldn't suppress his curiosity, sat up straight, looked at Chen He and asked seriously: "So Chen Caomu did get married to Xu Chunhua later? "
Chen He said with a smile: "Of course."
"Then why did you stop writing after you wrote about standing on the cloud river and watching the dusk together?"
Chen He lowered his head to sort out the papers and said softly: "Because it's just right to write it here."
Nan Dequ hadn't yet understood what Chen He meant. The fire that was originally shrouded by the sword suddenly felt some snowy wind. Chen He seemed to have lost his mind and didn't hold on. The papers and the story were blown into the fire like fallen leaves.
Nan Dequ subconsciously wanted to pick up the pages, but Chen He sat there indifferently.
"It's all about courtesy when it's time to show affection."
The young man chuckled.
"It might not be a good ending."
Nan Dequ was a little confused and looked at the pages that were burned cleanly in the fire with regret.
"But what does that have to do with burning it?"
The young man stopped laughing and looked quietly at a story that turned to ashes in the fire.
"Because in such a story, I have been thinking about it for a long time..."
Chen He did not look at the fire crumbs anymore. He stood up, turned around and looked at the wind and snow in the world, and said seriously: "It will make my heart wrong."
"If your heart is not right, no matter how far you go, it will all be fake."
So this is something that has nothing to do with the leisurely coming and going of Xianyun Yehe.
Nan Dequ looked at the young man standing in the cold wind and nodded thoughtfully.
It was just as if Nan Dequ suddenly remembered something, he narrowed his eyes and looked quietly at the wind and snow that had blown away his sword intention, and his eyes fell into the distance.
The wind and snow in Lu Ming can sometimes be so heavy that even practitioners can hardly walk, but sometimes it will gradually subside and be as weak as a snowstorm in Nanyi City.
The dusk in the sky is filled with the unknown snow.
There are mountains cascading in the distance.
The ancient stone path is looming in the wind and snow, and I don't know how high it is.
