[Original God_Zhong Li's personal orientation] Changhe

The old man brought the bowl of wine in front of them. The wine was dangling in the rough porcelain bowl, and a plain leather lantern from the Wangshu Inn was spread on the liquid.He couldn't chew peanuts anymore, but he still called the other party to grab them and piled the peanuts on a small plate.

"I just drink a few sips of it, and I like it when I get old." The old man said as if explaining.He always had a smile on his face, no different from the old man who can be seen everywhere in Liyue.

There were two young men sitting in front of him, neither of whom answered.One of them picked up the peanuts with his hands, smashed the shell with one hand, and stacked the peanuts one by two and put them on the plate.And the other, seeing his action, "hummed", the folding fan in his hand didn't open, but shook it habitually.

"You two..." The old man shook his head.

"Different ideas lead to different roads." The one who pinched the shell replied.

And the one who was shaking the fan stopped moving, and asked: "Are you still planning to...?"

The old man sighed and was about to speak when the door of the inn was opened, with a "boom", the rain and moisture from the outside came in together.Most of the guests sitting and eating made sounds of surprise. Someone dared to be so reckless in Wangshu Inn, but when he looked up, it was Qianyan Army, so he stopped eating to see what Qianyan Army was going to do.

The Qianyan army who came to the inn didn't wear a helmet, but they were soaked, and even the armor they were wearing was dripping with water, as if they had come in the rain.

The boss Huai An took out a piece of white cotton cloth from the counter and handed it over, but the other party didn't pick it up. He lowered his head and took out a piece of paper from his pocket.

A child at the next table broke the bowl, and the sound of "crackling" smashed and sprinkled the ground.The white cotton cloth fell on the floor, wrapped in the salty soup spilled by the child, and no one cared about the white cloth being stained with oil.The old man looked down at the lantern in the bowl, the candles flickering inside.

Dijun...Dijun...someone murmured.

The Qianyan army at the gate still finished reading: ... Therefore, I tell Liyue and pray for the condolences of all the people.

The old man couldn't hold on, and shed a few tears because of the grief in his heart.

"I'm not qualified," the old man said to his disciples, "Go back, don't mention this matter again." When he was speaking, he put his right hand into his sleeve, touched it twice, and put it down again.

In the middle of the night, there was only the old man left in the dining hall.

Most of the talents rushed back to Liyue Port in the rain after hearing what Qianyan Army told them.

He can't.He is very old.

The old man sat and drank, waiting for the proprietress with the awkward name to call him to leave as usual.

The door of the inn was knocked three times, and when it opened, it was not the proprietress, but a man like a nobleman.The man was dressed in a long gown that was as solemn as a rock, and his eyes were like golden amber.

The visitor did not hesitate, closed the door, and walked to the old man's table in two or three strokes.

"Is there anyone? Can I sit down?" the man asked.

The old man thought it was a bit funny, where did he come from in the middle of the night, but the other party was so polite, he responded: "No one, please sit down, and drink with me, an old man, whatever you want!" Maybe drink Getting a little drunk, with a high-pitched ending, it floated twice in the empty dining room.

The black-haired man sat down and brought out a small bowl, which was made of white porcelain.

"Hey..." The old man narrowed his eyes and said drunkenly, "Why do you bring your own bowl when you drink, have you brought wine?"

"Bring it." The man grabbed another wine jug onto the table.

The old man weighed the small wine jug, smashed it and said, "Is this enough to drink, young people can't drink well. But the smell of this wine is good wine."

The man smiled and said nothing.

"Forget it, it's fate," the old man said, really drunk, with his head and arms on the table, one hand on the other cuff, "you buy my story with this jug of wine, Whether it's good or bad...it's all fate." The voice was so vague that it was difficult for people to hear clearly.

The late guest of Wangshu Inn filled his own bowl with wine, the wine was just level with the rim of the bowl, and the young man picked it up with one hand and took a sip without spilling a little.

It's a pity that the old man didn't see it, and he was still talking.He never told anyone about these past events, even to his two disciples. Tonight, for some reason, he always wanted to tell them, to this strange man.

I don't love mountains.

The old man started with this sentence.

Tianheng is surrounded by overlapping peaks and Bisheng, and the rock formations are rich in jade and brilliance.The country under the shadow of the King of Rocks is rich in mineral resources.With the mining, Tianheng Mountain and the surrounding land were hollowed out, and mine tunnels extending in all directions were built.It can be said that Liyue survived by relying on the mountain.But in such a land, in such a land with the authority gods in charge of the "rock".

Someone said: I don't love mountains.

"You were in tears just now," the man said.

"I believe in Lord Yan, but I still don't love mountains. Everyone says that Liyue belongs to the land of Yan. Back then, Lord Yan established the balance of heaven and receded the evil tide. How magnificent... I belong to Lord Yan. In my When I was young, I went up the mountain and encountered a mudslide." The old man continued to drink, and said, "I was lying on the tree and was terrified. But at that time, I saw Lord Yan."

"Lord Yan...I've said it many times, and many people didn't believe it. I clearly saw that it was a woman." He drank the bowl of wine, looked up at the young man, and hiccupped, "Don't tell me! , your eyes look like hers..."

"At that time, the mountain was about to collapse. The muddy soup rushed towards the big rocks and trees. She waved her hand and stopped. The rain was so heavy that it sounded like firecrackers on the mountain. I was in the tree I fell asleep on the ground and didn't fall off. I woke up the next day," the old man paused, "I woke up the next day and saw those things stopped under my tree, just two or three inches away. All stopped."

"I said Lord Yan is a woman, but no one believes me," the old man raised his voice, as if imitating someone's speech, and learned the expression and tone, "—you storyteller, who will believe you? It's all just stories."

While talking, the man poured another half bowl of wine for him.

The old alcoholic sniffed the aroma of wine and was extremely happy. Subconsciously, he reached into his sleeve, touched something, trembled suddenly, and put his hand down. Then he patted the table with his hand, making a conclusion: "So, What you hear next are just some true and false stories."

When I was a child, I had a dream: to be an excellent adventurer like my parents.

In the land of Liyue, it has a history of 700 years, and there is a vast area beyond this year.This is the place that attracts adventurers. In addition, the business is developed, the transportation is convenient, and the climate is much better than the legendary rice wife.Adventurers and their footprints are all over the land of Liyue, whether it is exploring ruins, exploring past mines, or even seeking immortality, his parents have encountered them all.

"Dreams are things that change frequently, don't they?"

"Sometimes when I walk to the ferry of Liyue Port, I just ask a child, what will you do in the future?"

"Some replied that they wanted to be adventurers, but when they grew up, they went to Liyue Port to transport goods. Others said that they wanted to make a living like their family members. Craftsmen, um... are also very good," the old man said. Slowly said, "This is a dream. We all grow up with dreams, but most of the time, it is difficult to realize. Parents have a great influence on their children, and they will also affect their choice of which path to take in the future."

"My parents are very good adventurers. They don't have the eyes of God, but they are just as good. When I was young, they often brought me back gifts, maybe shells from Yaoguangtan, oh, Yaoguangtan is no longer Seeing that thing more... Fortunately, the water area was cleaned up before Qixing, otherwise the pollution there would be really serious." His words deviated from the original direction, and he said whatever came to mind.

Fortunately, his only audience had no objection to this. The young man sat very straight, occasionally raising his head to glance at the lanterns hanging outside the inn.

Want to be an adventurer like my parents.He used to look forward to it so much.

And there are many children like him, children whose parents are adventurers and whose parents are away for a long time, most of them are brought up by Grandma Ping.

Grandma Ping herself has a little granddaughter, but she has the blood of a fairy and grows very slowly.

"It's been several years since I went to see Yan Fei last time. I don't know if it's still the same as before. I haven't grown taller at all..." The old man laughed, "Our group of people grow up and grow old. , and the immortals stay where they are. Sometimes I think it's cruel. If one day we die, will they feel lonely? Hey, it would be nice if they could forget us. This way they won't be so lonely .”

The man listening to him put his hand on the table, and shook his head slightly upon hearing this sentence.

"Grandma Ping likes to listen to people's stories, but she doesn't go there often. She always says that she is very leisurely, but she is actually very busy. The things about the Seven Stars, and those endangered soft flowers are all places she wants to take care of. We often go together Go listen to the book, go back when you're done, and tell Grandma Ping."

"I was young at the time, and I couldn't figure out the storytelling. When listening to the book, I followed the adults and shouted it. As for the content and the deep meaning, we didn't understand it. We asked us to tell the story. It was a bit difficult, and it was boring to tell. Even so, Grandma Ping still praised us," he recalled the past, somewhat nostalgic, "I was the best one in it."

"I once dreamed of becoming an adventurer, but later, I wanted to be a storyteller."

The old man read another story of "The King of Rocks and the Emperor Li Tianheng". He pinched the beginning and the end, and only told a short paragraph in the middle. He seemed to be very fond of storytelling, shaking his head and shaking his hands. Fan pose.It's just that he didn't have a folding fan in his hand at this time, so he shook the porcelain bowl.

"Storytelling emphasizes: fast but not chaotic, slow and continuous; open but not wide, close but not short; high but not noisy, low and not flashy; bright but not dark, dumb but not dry," the man said meekly, "As expected of being the number one storyteller in Liyue Port back then, it's excellent."

Hearing this, the old man laughed a few times, very happy.

"I wondered why this old man came to drink with me in the middle of the night. It turned out that he was a former listener," he said, "It's just that there is nothing interesting about you coming now, and my book has been given to my two useless disciples. The so-called number one title is just a false name, I am old and have nothing to say."

The old storyteller looked the young man up and down, but he didn't have much impression of his face, but those eyes... those eyes... he thought.

"The storyteller hasn't closed the mountain yet, so he doesn't count as leaving." The man said in a deep voice.

"I don't have that qualification," the old man said again, with a wry smile, and looked out the window, "so I don't like mountains, and I don't like rain either."

The heavy rain that summer, coupled with the mining of the veins, has caused a lot of mud and rocks to flow on the mountain recently.People in the village advised him not to go to the mountains, but he didn't listen.I heard early on that there are many strange rocks appearing in Jueyunjian in the rain. It is a big treasure, and it is something that many adventurers, including him, are rushing to.

At night, he encountered a heavy rain.

The mud soup is rolling in, and there are two or three small trees in the discount path.

He fled in a hurry, and wanted to avoid it, so he climbed onto a tall tree.

In the rain curtain, I saw a woman in a black robe on the mountain. The rain, tide and mud could not make her move half a step.Those rushing broken rocks avoided her and went down the mountain.

He yelled at the other party from the tree to get away quickly, and the rain wet his clothes, covering his sight.The heavy rain blocked his voice, and he kept waving, calling for the other party to leave.

When the thunder flashed, he thought of the summer more than ten years ago, it seemed that it was also such a rain that made him lose everything.That's why he was forced to give up his youthful dream.

Natural disasters and man-made disasters, such unavoidable sufferings, make the light in the eyes of all beings drained by tears.

In the torrential rain, the woman raised her eyebrows, those eyes were like golden amber.This is the last picture he remembers.

When he woke up the next day, the mud tide stagnated under the big tree, not moving forward half an inch.

Those eyes... I want to tell the world that Prince Yan is actually a woman.But just as the mouth of an adventurer is not trusted, it is better to be a storyteller, tell them the story, and let the story pass on.True or false, as long as it can be passed down.

On that day, when he returned to Liyue Port, there shouldn't be anything in the package that he had eaten.He shook out a God's Eye from it.

"God's Eye..." The old man shook it vaguely, but he didn't get anything.

"So a multiple-choice question was placed in front of me. To be an adventurer like my parents, I have the eyes of God, and I can even do better than my parents."

"Still, becoming a storyteller and telling them stories about Prince Yan is just like my dream."

But the man with the same eyes asked him: "The summer more than ten years ago?"

"My first dream was to become an adventurer. Later, when I heard people tell stories, I thought it was very good, really good, and I wanted to become a storyteller... But later, because of that summer, I changed again, so I still became a storyteller. An adventurer. Until later in that mudslide, I saw Lord Yan, and I looked into her eyes. At that time, I was thinking, I must tell this story."

He smiled wryly: "It's funny, right? My dream keeps changing, changing repeatedly, and I'm not firm at all. I really... I really... I still like storytelling very much. I like it very much. But I'm not qualified." He shed tears again, and those tears sank into the wrinkles along his old face.

Liyue's storyteller has a rule, if you go through three mountains and one gate, you can go to the rivers and lakes.The so-called Three Mountains and One Pass refers to the bookstores in Tianheng Mountain, Wangshu Mountain, Jueyunjian and Nantianmen.

Tianheng Mountain is the first stop, which is Liyue Port with the most people. It is for people to listen to.

Wangshu Mountain is not a mountain, it is this Wangshu Inn, which is located at the junction of Mengde and Liyue, and it is said to passers-by.

But there are very few people in Jueyunjian, the senior means that this is for the immortals.

"If you can't pass the three mountains, then you don't have to pass the last level, and you don't have to be a storyteller."

"I worshiped as a teacher, and later broke through the three mountains."

Unlike the previous three places, Nantianmen is deserted.It is far away from Liyue Port, and few people come.Most of the storytellers who go there will hire a few adventurers to go with them.And that time... It was his parents who accompanied him.

The river is so clear that only light and shadow flow through the palm of your hand.

Liyue's rivers and mountains have always been like this, the deeper you go, the more peaceful it will be.

"There is no one in Nantianmen at all. The storyteller tells the story for the world to hear, and some people say it is for Lord Yan. This test is a test of the heart. If no one listens to the audience, if no one caters to the audience, With the storm, thunder, cold and wind, we have to finish the book and make an agreement. This is the last hurdle."

The old man said lightly: "That summer, the Nantian Gate suddenly quaked, and my parents died there. Since then, I have not loved mountains."

"I didn't finish the book that time, so I didn't pass the last level. I'm not a storyteller, and I'm not qualified to accept the mountain."

"I didn't become a storyteller. I inherited my parents' wishes and became an adventurer. If it wasn't for the mudslide, I would have seen the true face of Prince Yan...I wouldn't want to...be a storyteller again."

"The master took pity on me and broke that level. The storyteller's inheritance, apart from the artistic skills taught by the master, largely lies in the books the master said. Many artists of the older generation don't even have the original books, all rely on the master Tell the disciples to listen, and learn as much as you can. As for me... I have passed, and I have become a fake storyteller. Everyone says that I am the number one. But what is the use of being the number one? Only I know myself is fake."

"The storyteller's last book is called Shushan. The two of them came here just now and asked about it, but I'm not a storyteller, so I don't have the qualifications."

The old man touched the cuff again, sighed, and took out the things in the sleeve.

It was a piece of wakewood.He is old and can't take pictures anymore.

"My two disciples are incompetent. Liu Su yearns for elegance, and the books he speaks are all literary. Tian Tiezui thinks that the market is the best, and often talks about true and false things. In fact, both of them are storytellers. , the path is different."

"I have written the original version of "Liyue Spring and Autumn". I just hope that they can pass on the story of Lord Yan. Anyone can tell it."

He touched the piece of wood and said sadly: "The emperor has passed away... so what? Although the storytellers of our generation are small, we must pass on these stories. It is the emperor who established Liyue, and the emperor who propped up the moon." We've always known this land."

The man smiled and asked him: "You said just now that it would be lonely for a fairy to remember the things of a mortal. Then why don't you want mortals to forget the things of a fairy?"

"I am old and have forgotten many things, but I still remember Dijun, and I also remember Dijun's eyes. It's not that I don't want to forget, but we should remember. It is said that the well digger is not forgotten when drinking water. Dijun's three thousand and 700 years of life Guardian, we should also remember. We are blessed by his shelter, he passed away, we should also remember him, these stories, scripts, and some ballads are proof that we remember him."

"It will be lonely," the man said.

"...What's so lonely?" The mortal said, "Although I don't love mountains, I know that mountains and rocks are his incarnation, and I also know that Mora is his flesh and blood. The emperor is always there, the emperor is always there."

"We are not the emperor's believers, we are human beings, and human beings should know how to be grateful, that's all." The old man poured himself a bowl of wine and drank it.

He talked a little too much, was very tired, and fell asleep on the table.

I had a very short dream, and I dug up the forgotten memory again.

At that time, he was walking in Liyue Port and saw a young man telling a story to the ship owner.The young man was dressed in short brown with a turban on his head, just like ordinary boatmen.But his complexion and expression revealed that he was a mountain dweller from Qingcezhuang looking for a way out, and his face had the outline of a rock.

The young man asked: "Since everyone has their likes and dislikes, why choose the evil one?"

He also talked about the original intention of Emperor Yan to make the rules, and told a short story about jade cards.

The young storyteller stopped for a long time, and after the boy left, he grabbed him and asked, "Young student, what do you want to do in the future? Do you want to be a storyteller?"

The boy's eyes glistened in the setting sun, like golden stones in the mountains.The boy was silent.

"Now the storytellers on the pier are like chess: those of the older generation, those who have passed away have passed away, and the rest are like generals and handsomes, who basically don't move and can't be seen easily; some famous big names are like scholars and Apparently, it’s definitely not just moving casually, it’s just a small place to move; Mr. Cobain, who is a little weaker, walks back and forth like chariots and cannons. The rest are grassroots storytellers, pawns just able to push forward.”

When he speaks, his hands still move, which is the habit of storytellers.

"I'm also a grassroots storyteller, why don't you learn storytelling from me."

The boy shook his head and smiled.It seems to say something.

The dream ended abruptly.

When the old man woke up, he saw that the young man opened the window just now. The rain outside had stopped, and the wind was a bit cool, which woke him up.

The young man opened the window and sat back in his original position. He opened his mouth to speak, but gradually overlapped with the young man in his dream.

"The storyteller's last book is called Shoushan. Most of the story tells the story of the rock king and emperor, which can be regarded as a reflection of the first pass. And that pass is for the rock king and emperor. Mountains and rivers follow each other, so it is Care."

The old man looked at him with trembling hands, held up the wine bowl, wanted to drink, but put it down again.The wine was spilled on the wood.

Seeming to understand something, the old man muttered a few times and asked, "What if one day the emperor forgets the past like me mortals?"

The young man who looked like a noble son replied: "According to common sense, the emperor will not forget."

"But... if you forget it, it doesn't matter. Even if you forget something, Liyue can remember everything. Even if the rock cannot last forever, the contract can last forever."

The old man wept and sighed a long time.

He got up, and stopped talking about those rebuttals in the past, and didn't say anything, "If you want to know what happens next, please listen to the next chapter."

He stood up straight and read a story about "The Emperor of the Rock Creates the Eye of the Dragon". While telling the story, he watched the young man leave.

The next day.

The waiter at the Wangshu Inn went to call the storyteller for dinner.This storyteller was amazing back then. People who wanted to listen to his storytelling once occupied the Liyue Wharf, until this gentleman finally came to live in the Wangshu Inn.

Xiaoer knocked on the door several times, but no one answered.

He hurriedly notified the boss, and when Huai'an opened the door, he saw that the old man had passed away, lying flat on the bed with a peaceful smile on his face.

There was a book next to the pillow.

"Liyue Spring and Autumn"

A finished volume of fantasy novels lay on the table.

"Travel of Emperor Dust"

Liyue's oldest storyteller has taken over the mountain.

The author has something to say:

It's a short story, I don't know where to put it, put it here