Fengyunlu

By the side of the Nine Heavens Thunder Pond, in the silence, Mo Wenjian's voice sounded softly, like a thread, with a touch of sadness. His eyes were deep and complex, as if they contained endless stories and emotions. He spoke slowly, with an indescribable loneliness in his voice: "There is love in Hongzhuang, hatred in long separation, and love in lovers. What is left in this Love Sword Formation is not the sword, but the person holding the sword."

Although these words were soft, they were like a burst of Sanskrit sounds reverberating in the sword array, breaking the originally peaceful atmosphere and causing ripples in the hearts of Luo Hongchen and Fairy Ji Yao. They each think about the person they miss, maybe it's nostalgia for the past, maybe it's expectations for the future, but more often than not, it's the concern for the figure engraved in their hearts, and the longing for the recession that strikes far away.

The white robe is fluttering, the sleeves are dancing lightly, and someone comes in a hurry, but it seems that they never leave. When they looked back, they saw a lonely figure, Xiao Xiaoran, who seemed to be gone in a daze, as if he had never been there before, but still reluctant to leave. The sadness and helplessness contained in that figure made people moved.

In the distance, the mountains undulated, and in the dim light of the night, a figure waited anxiously. Her face was shrouded in darkness and her expression could not be seen clearly, but her eyes were full of anxiety and expectation. She didn't know if or when he would come back. The night was getting darker, and the breeze was blowing the weeds on both sides, as if to warn her that the wind and rain were precarious, and what awaited might not be what she wished for.

Suddenly, a shaking broke the silence of the night. A figure in a white robe slowly appeared. His face was lonely, his black hair was gone, and the snow was covered with frost. There was no smile in his eyes, nor the wantonness of the past, only sadness and helplessness. He twitched slightly, and his tears wet his clothes and the last tent beside the bed. She didn't dare to look because she didn't know where Netherworld was and was afraid she would never find him again.

The breeze came slowly, and someone passed by the hilltop, cutting down the weeds on both sides, and stained the blood on the ground. He frowned, as if summoned by something, and walked up to the top of the mountain unconsciously. The old friend has passed away, and perhaps another person who was tied to him has also been taken away. A surge of hatred surged in his heart, guiding him to turn around and flash away to an unknown place.

Years later, the story spread in the village. It is said that an evil spirit appeared on the top of the mountain many years ago and often wandered around with a dark lantern in the dead of night. The lantern is red, and the evil spirit is also covered in blood red. He asked passers-by one by one on the path, asking if anyone wanted to come here. No matter how people answered, he kept asking, scaring passers-by who would rather take a long circuit outside the mountain than save time on this winding path.

Until one day, a young man came to the village. It is said that he is an expert in cultivating immortals. Late at night, he walked into the mountains. No one knows what he went through. They only know that he stayed in the mountains until noon. Since then, the evil spirit has never appeared again. However, the path was destroyed, the deep ravine was unknown how many feet deep, and the winding path could no longer reach the other side.

As time goes by, everything on the mountain is gradually forgotten by people. Until one day, a woodcutter accidentally fell into the ravine. He was rescued by a scruffy old man. When the woodcutter returned home, he said that an old fairy had come to the mountain, but no one in the village believed him. It wasn't until one night of the full moon that a sky-covering sword rose from the ravine to the sky, and the sloppy old man transformed into a man standing tall and tall, did people believe that what the woodcutter said was true.

However, after the sword light flashed, the giant sword that covered the sky disappeared without knowing where it went, and the old man was never heard from again. In the peak of summer, the woodcutter always wanted to go up to the mountain to have a look, but for several years, the old man never showed up again. At the bottom of the ravine, the woodcutter hung up the rope and tried to get down, but he could not reach the bottom of the ravine even after the rope was exhausted. The whistling wind below was like a ghost crying and a wolf howling. If you listened carefully, it sounded like a hungry ghost trying to escape in the endless underworld. The woodcutter was so frightened that he ran back. He couldn't get sick from then on and died within two years.

The villagers said that he was too stupid and insisted on seeing what happened, so the mountain ghost took away his soul. However, some people don't think so. When they were burying the woodcutter, they took out a piece of red cloth from his arms. The red cloth was originally white, but it was stained red by blood. The strange thing was that the blood had been stained for an unknown period of time, but it remained moist and never dried. It cannot be washed off even if it is placed in water, and it seems to have a magical power when it touches a stranger, making people unconsciously want to take a look in the ravine.

The old people in the village remember hearing about evil spirits in the mountains when they were children. Over the years, they have been half buried. Suddenly remembering this legend, they broke into a cold sweat. So, they found a mage from a nearby temple and wanted to perform a ritual ceremony to bury the woodcutter and return the red cloth to him to prevent it from getting stained.

However, after the mage came, he stared at the red cloth for a long time, and then like the woodcutter, he insisted on going to the mountain to see it. He left and never came back. The masters from the temple came one after another, but they all went into the forest and never came out. No one in the village dared to report it to the official, and many soldiers were sent in but no news was heard. The official was afraid of losing his hair, so he asked people to seal the mountain and never mention it again.

More than ten years later, the woodcutter's son grew up. He sneaked into the mountain to avenge his father, but he searched most of the mountain and even looked into the ravine, but he could not meet the evil spirit he was looking for. Even the masters who entered the mountain and the many officers and soldiers who entered later did not have a single body left behind. Only the cold mountain wind blew people to the bone in the midsummer.

The woodcutter's son returned home and said goodbye to his mother, saying that he was going to a famous mountain to become a disciple. He heard that many famous mountains had masters who cultivated immortality. He might as well come back after learning some skills so that he could go into the mountains to see what was going on. So he visited the famous mountains around him, but no one was willing to accept him because of his poor qualifications. Until one day when he was frustrated and wanted to return to the village to fulfill his filial piety to his mother, he met a sloppy old man at the entrance of the village.

With a mysterious smile on his face, the old man claimed that he had a predestined relationship with him and was willing to teach him a few tricks for future adventures in the mountains. Although the woodcutter's son was a little disdainful of the old man's appearance, he couldn't help but respect him when he saw his immortal aura. He decided to seize this opportunity and humbly ask the old man for advice.

However, the learning process is not easy. The old man discovered that this young man not only had mediocre qualifications, but also had a poor mind. He explained repeatedly, but the woodcutter's son was always difficult to understand. Sometimes he would even be stubborn on one thing and waste time in vain. The old man was so angry that he couldn't bear to give up on this young man.

In just three days, the mysterious old man devoted all his life's knowledge to the woodcutter's son and imparted his spiritual practice without reservation. His teachings lit up the night sky like stars, guiding the young man on the way forward. On the occasion of parting, the old man left a considerable fortune and then left. Although the woodcutter's son knew that his stupidity had disappointed his teacher, he also understood that this was the starting point of his practice, and he could not let his teacher's expectations down.

After the teacher left, the woodcutter's son began to practice hard. He studied the formula day and night and put every detail into practice with perseverance. Time flies, and in the blink of an eye he has spent countless spring and autumn in the mountains and forests. During this period, he sent away his elderly mother and explored the mysterious mountain many times, but found nothing every time.

However, one day a sudden inspiration made him realize that he could not continue to practice blindly like this. So he bid farewell to his folks in the village, walked out of the mountains, and entered the prosperous world. After twenty years of ups and downs, he became famous and carved out a world of his own.