"I didn't come back to this village because of the unfounded emotional barrier that my senior brother said."
After Jiang Yu and others left, Monk Dongling and Xiang Yang braved the wind and snow and also left the ruined temple.
The mountain road is narrow and there are no people walking on it, so it is very difficult to walk. Fortunately, Xiangyang made a lot of temporary things to cover up, and he was able to move forward reluctantly.
Xiangyang heard Monk Dongling sigh softly, turned around and asked in confusion: "What? Did you just deceive us?"
"Hey, monks don't lie, but poor monks don't dare to lie to others." The old monk chuckled, holding the young man's shoulders and walked forward, "The poor monk just thought of many things and things."
Xiangyang suddenly became curious: "What did you remember?"
"When the poor monk came out of the village, he was only nineteen years old."
The wind and snow stained the old monk's beard and hair. He did not raise his hand to brush it away. Instead, he raised his head and began to recall the past.
"I think the poor monk probably knows who the emotional disorder that senior brother is talking about is, but as time has passed, things have changed. I don't know where to start talking about it, and I don't know how to explain it."
The Cave God Sacrifice is a very cruel sacrifice.
But for the mountain people living in the mountains, being kind to others is cruelty to themselves.
Rather than being buried with everyone, it is better to dedicate one or two special cases to save everyone.
"Nineteen years old? Your fiancée has been gone for so long, how can you overcome your emotional difficulties?"
Xiangyang scratched his head and his mind became active: "Is she also in the reincarnation at the foot of the mountain? If so, then you should be able to solve the problem by breaking the reincarnation below."
"If only it were that simple."
Monk Dongling shook his head and looked at the end of the mountain path: "After the poor monk came out of reincarnation, he met several donors. After thinking about it, he should explore it first."
"Monk, have you made an inference?"
"nature."
Xiangyang saw him take out a large, inconspicuous bowl from under his wide cassock. At first glance, it looked like it was used for alms, but upon closer inspection, there was spiritual energy flowing around it, which was quite extraordinary.
"The poor monk took advantage of the absence of Donor Jiang and others and brought out Little Donor Xiangyang just for the sake of this seal formation."
Xiangyang was dumbfounded and pointed at himself, very confused.
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Amitabha, although the poor monk was born in the village of the Mi'ao tribe, he is not a member of the Mi'ao tribe. This formation eye may require the blood of the Mi'ao tribe to be activated. And little donor Xiangyang, you are from the Vientiane Valley, As far as the poor monk knows, Master Xianggu is the descendant of Mi'ao tribe's Sanshan Twelve Cave, so naturally the blood of little donor Xiangyang is useful."
The monk had a smile on his face, which made Xiang Yang shiver. He looked at Monk Dongling warily, calmly folded his arms and shrank back.
"Well, you old monk, you've just pushed everyone away, and you're going to attack the kid!"
"A monk will never harm anyone's life. He just needs a little bit of the blood of the little donor Xiangyang."
A dead leaf was weighed down by frost and snow. Monk Dongling stretched out his hand to catch it, pinched the flower with one finger, and the dead leaf scratched across the exposed back of Xiang Yang's hand, and a few drops of blood seeped out. He curled his fingers into claws, and those few The drop of blood floated in front of him like a spiritual consciousness, and he threw it into the bowl.
"hiss!"
After Xiangyang realized that he had taken blood after reacting, he covered the back of his hand and looked at Monk Dongling angrily: "Old monk, why didn't you say hello!"
He just touched his bare head and smiled: "Don't blame me, little benefactor. Don't blame me. When the poor monk breaks this seal, we will go out, and the poor monk will go to your Vientiane Valley to make amends."
"It's just that for now, the poor monk has to get things done first." Monk Dongling walked up the last earthen steps, breathed a sigh of relief, and stopped, "We are here."
The wind and snow were getting stronger, even if there was something to block it, Xiang Yang was also blown so hard that he couldn't open his eyes. He used his hand to block his eyes, and then he could clearly see the scene in front of him.
There is a vast white sky on the hillside, with sparse white flags hanging down, and a lot of paper money buried in the snow scattered. The mounds of soil are not neat, and the tombstones with names engraved on them are also tilted here and there, as if they have been in disrepair, and they are lonely. scattered.
Xiangyang followed Monk Dongling, looking at this desolate scene, he gradually felt uncomfortable in his heart.
There was a medium-sized coffin hidden in the middle of the mound. Monk Dongling stepped forward and squatted in front of the coffin. He reached out and brushed away the accumulated snow, revealing the obscure words underneath.
"This is the birth sacrifice post, where Yangtianwo offers flower girls to worship the cave god."
He sighed, stood up, reached out and pulled out the white flag stuck on the side, and brushed away the surrounding snow.
"It was only later that the poor monk found out that this cave god in the mountain was originally a fox who had accomplished cultivation. She escaped to Yangtian Nest for some reason. The poor monk estimated that she needed to be replenished because she had injuries on her body and damaged her foundation. Spirit, to nourish vitality.”
Xiang Yang looked at the empty coffin exposed in the wind and snow, and narrowed his eyes: "But isn't this a big demon coming out later? This so-called cave god should have a fight with it, but Yin Ban'er's According to the statement, there seems to be no such conflict..."
But except for the strange fire that burned the entire village to death, there were no traces of magic left in the seal.
If there is a direct conflict between the big demon and the cave god, it will be impossible for them to be kind.
"No one knows where the cave god lurks."
Monk Dongling brushed off the white snow on the coffin: "But she will always appear when sacrificing the flower girl and fulfill the wishes of everyone in the village."
"If the great demon also offers the flower girl...and prays that he can replace the cave god, then..."
Xiangyang suddenly felt like he had found a clue, but he still couldn't figure it out.
"If that demon is..." Monk Dongling paused, his back seemed to be a little stooped, "That's all, I don't know if the flower girl can be summoned with the blood of the Mi'ao people now that there is no more."
The old monk seemed tired. He returned to the coffin, sat on the ground where the snow had been swept away, took a breath, and picked up the bowl containing a few drops of Xiangyang's blood.
The blood droplets were round and crimson, and under his guidance, they fell into the obscure characters.
In an instant, the wind and snow broke through the formation! It blew out in the opposite direction, and the two people who blew it could only close their eyes to protect themselves from the severe cold.
Layers of red halo spread on the ground, and the spiritual energy between heaven and earth vibrated.
It seemed like a lock was broken slightly, and the door opened!
Monk Dongling sat cross-legged on the ground, quietly waiting for the opportunity to come, waiting for the appearance of the evil cave god or the appearance of a big demon.
Wait until he is the only one left between heaven and earth, wait until the wind and snow stop, wait until the snowflakes stop in mid-air.
Waiting for that familiar sigh.
His appearance seemed to have returned to the time when he was young. The man was not tall, but his expression was calm. He opened his eyes and looked at the returnee who emerged from the wind and snow with a sad expression.
She stretched out a pair of delicate white hands and placed them on his compassionate face.
The girl's whispers seemed to be filled with deep nostalgia and lingering. Her eyebrows were still as clear as the fairy in the painting who came out of the ink, with a wisp of smile, gently blowing away the lingering snowflakes.
"Brother Alang, you are back."
