Chapter 1080

In the small world where the Li City ancestral hall was located, inside the tightly closed hut.

The furnishings were simple: a table, a chair, and a wooden bed.

Apart from that, there was a piece of calligraphy hanging on the wall.

"He is like a devout pilgrim, always searching for a temple that might not exist."

Outside, the flames remained.

The scroll inside the furnace, amidst the refining of the sea of fire, slowly shone with a faint gleam.

Vaguely, there seemed to be a voice echoing inside the scroll.

"I, what have I forgotten?"

"Is it regret?"

"Or is it that sentence?"

"Perhaps, I should have someone help me pass on a sentence."

The voice gradually dissipated, burned away by the sea of fire.

The fire grew larger and larger, more and more vigorous.

It burned the clay pot covering the top until it was very red, and the medicinal liquid inside also gradually thickened in this high temperature.

Bubbles appeared from time to time, and after bursting, they spread the medicinal scent throughout this simple hut.

The hut was not large, and all around were cabinets filled with various medicinal herbs.

In the very center, there were two people, an old one and a young one.

The old man wore a dark blue long gown, his hair was white, and his face carried the numbness formed after the passage of time; he was currently sitting in a rocking chair, looking at the sunset outside, wondering what he was thinking about.

The young boy was looking at the old man, and after waiting for a while, he couldn't help but speak.

"Master, and then?"

"What and then?" the old man asked.

"The story, what you just said, what have you forgotten, is it regret, or is it that sentence? What is that sentence? Who should I pass it to? I can go and pass it!"

Hearing this, the old man's gaze fell on the medicine pot.

"This medicine is almost brewed; you take it out, divide it into several portions, and send them one by one."

Hearing this, the young boy hurriedly took out a medicine spoon, took out the thick medicine from the clay pot one by one, placed them in a medicine box, and ran out carrying it.

Just after leaving the medicine shop, he paused, looked back at his master, and couldn't help but speak.

"Master, after I finish delivering the medicine, can you tell me that sentence? I will definitely pass it on; I am especially curious. If you tell me, then I will also tell you a secret."

The old man nodded.

The young boy was expectant, carried the medicine box, and ran away.

Watching the young boy's figure disappear from his sight, the old man's eyes became a bit unfocused.

"That sentence, what is it... I can't remember."

The old man muttered.

A night passed.

The young boy who left did not return.

Some said they saw an immortal take him away.

Others said the dark night swallowed him.

And in the rest of the old man's life, he never saw him again.

It was as if everything was just an illusion in his trance.

Until ten years later, when he was about to pass away, he occasionally thought of the little apprentice from back then, but his impression was no longer deep.

Because he spent his whole life trying to recall that sentence.

That sentence, which seemed to be in his memory, but which he could never find.

Finally, on the day he passed away, when his memory turned into flying ash and dissipated in the human world, he finally remembered that sentence.

"Heaven and earth, are the guest houses of all living beings..."

"What is the next sentence?"

The old man had no answer.

Time had taken away his life and his spirit, leaving only a corpse in this world, buried in the soil.

In the passage of time, the body and the soil completely mixed together, indistinguishable from each other.

And outside, the seas changed into mulberry fields, the world changed, and the small city that once existed became ruins and then wasteland.

I don't know how much time passed...

Until one day, a hoe was raised by someone and landed on the soil of this wasteland.

Here, fields were cultivated, crops were planted, and a village was established.

The person who farmed lived a mediocre life, changing from a young man to a middle-aged man, and finally became an old man.

Before he died, he suddenly told his family, saying that he had once been a high official, once been a wealthy tycoon, once been a mountain bandit, and once been a physician, and he was buried here.

Therefore, in this life, he also wanted to be buried here, to extend some time for his future self, so that the dissipation of his spirit would be slightly slower.

His words before death carried delusions; some heard them in their hearts, but more people would not take them seriously.

But no matter what, his corpse was finally buried in this soil.

He was too ordinary, like a drop of water in the ocean, and after many years, he was gradually forgotten.

Spring went and autumn came, and the village became a county town.

Many years later, on a winter day, at dusk, in the firmament, a middle-aged cultivator stepped on the wind and arrived at this place.

He was a rogue cultivator, without sect or faction; by a chance opportunity, he entered a secret place and obtained an inheritance.

This inheritance was a wisp of a remnant soul.

To obtain the inheritance, one needed to fulfill the last wish of the remnant soul.

Thus, guided by the remnant soul, he arrived at this place.

Before that piece of soil, the remnant soul walked out from his body, transformed into a young boy, and gazed at this land, gazing at this county town.

Things were different, and people had changed.

The small city from back then had become larger, and the medicine shop from back then had become a school.

Gazing at these, vaguely, in the young boy's eyes, he seemed to see the night from years ago, his first master in that medicine shop, and his master's story.

This was a very long time ago; he had thought he didn't remember.

After being taken away and stepping into the cultivation world, he had also had his own blooming, had his own life, joys and sorrows, love and hate.

He had also walked to a certain peak, but ultimately fell; in these years of becoming a remnant soul, he discovered that the most eternal thing in his memory was actually that scene from back then.

He wanted to know what that sentence his master didn't say was.

Because...

The secret he didn't have time to say back then was that the few sentences his master said had actually appeared in his dreams before he became an apprentice in the medicine shop.

He didn't know the reason, and now... he wanted to pursue it.

And he felt more and more that the sentence his master didn't say was very important.

"My spirit has dissipated a lot, and now the remnant soul cannot support it for long... but I have a strong feeling that if I don't find the answer before I dissipate, then... there will be no future."

Muttering, his gaze fell on the school.

In the school, there was a teacher and seven students.

At this moment, the sky was dark red, and at dusk, the students bid farewell one by one.

And the teacher also tidied his clothes and was about to leave, but a student who had already left returned and stood at the door.

The teacher paused and looked over.

The student bowed his head.

"Teacher, I have a question; because there is not enough time, I cannot find the answer, and meeting the teacher at the moment of dissipation, I ask for the teacher to resolve my confusion."

The teacher was silent, and after a long while, he spoke slowly.

"Speak."

"Does the teacher know what reincarnation is?" The child raised his head, his eyes pitch black.

The teacher frowned.

"You are extraordinary, and I am ordinary, yet you come to ask me what reincarnation is?"

The child shook his head, his pitch-black eyes now somewhat unfocused, appearing confused.

"The reincarnation I understand and perceive is reincarnation time after time; only after one life ends does another begin, but I feel more and more that reincarnation doesn't seem to be like this; is it possible... that many people I have met are me in reincarnation?"

"All of this makes me confused; please resolve my confusion, teacher, just... just say something, anything will do."

The child muttered.

The teacher closed his eyes and said nothing.

Time flowed, and half an hour later, when dusk was about to be replaced by the dark night, and the pitch black in the child's eyes had dissipated by more than half, the teacher opened his eyes.

"I don't know what reincarnation is, but if I were to define this topic, I think... it should be an experience of rowing a boat in the sea of the abyss, a process of searching for light in the darkness."

"This process cannot be without a price, so the price of reincarnation time after time should be a kind of self-erasure."

"As for the situation you mentioned, thinking that many people you have met are yourself in reincarnation, in my view, this might be self-rescue within self-erasure."

"Giving up the erasure time after time, choosing to bloom all at once, in order to search for light."

"Until the end, if you still cannot find the light, then the spirit turns to ash."

The child's body shook, stunned there; long after, realization dawned in his eyes, everything from the past surfaced in his mind, and vaguely, in the passage of time, he seemed to hear the murmur of his first master before he died.

Thus he bowed his head and spoke softly.

"Thank you, I understand; so my meaning is to connect the time together and pass a sentence to the teacher."

"Heaven and earth, are the guest houses of all living beings..."

"What is the next sentence, please teacher... realize it yourself; this is our last chance, fortunately... your remaining life is enough."

As the child spoke, the black in his eyes disappeared completely.

The remnant soul dissipated.

And the child also woke up, somewhat confused; seeing the teacher, he felt nervous in his heart, hurriedly paid his respects, and then quickly fled.

Only the teacher stood in place, his eyes blank, as if some reincarnation scenes that originally belonged to him were gradually reviving from being sealed.

The Prime Minister of the Da Ning Dynasty felt he had forgotten something before he died.

The philanthropist Xu, who was a merchant, was full of regret before he died; the regret was not about the twists and turns of his life, but that he didn't remember what he had forgotten.

Thus this regret became intense pain, left in the brain of the mountain bandit Xu Shan, until finally, Xu Shan, who had a headache all his life, thought of a sentence at the moment of death.

But unfortunately, he had no time to ponder it.

He could only leave it to the physician.

The physician spent his whole life searching, but unfortunately, under the interference of some power, he only remembered it at the moment of death.

And fortunately, he was prepared.

Thus the young boy became the thread connecting time and reincarnation.

And the farmer who cultivated fertile fields was also willing to become nutrients to buy time for his future self.

Finally, he waited for the young boy.

Before the young boy died, he also realized and fulfilled his mission, passing on that sentence.

To the teacher.

This year, the teacher is thirty-seven years old.

His remaining life is enough.

Time passed, and in a flash, thirty years went by.

The teacher was already old, staying in this county town, on the verge of death.

And the students had long since gone their separate ways.

When he was dying, no one returned.

The teacher didn't mind; he lay on the bed, looking at the dusk outside the window, and scenes seemed to appear in his eyes in the firmament at dusk.

"Officials, merchants, brutes, physicians, commoners, cultivators... different reincarnations, different experiences, different lives."

"Sure enough... heaven and earth are the guest houses of all living beings, and time is the passerby of the past and present."

"I am still in time, still a passerby, but no longer with my eyes closed."

The teacher was calm; a purple light erupted from his chest, spreading throughout his body and enveloping the world.

The dissipated spirit bloomed again.

The teacher closed his eyes.

Xu Qing woke up.

And reincarnation did not stop.

But... it was no longer a lonely boat drifting with the waves in the sea of the abyss; it had a helmsman and became a ferryman.

Toward an orderly direction, using time as an oar, rowing through time and moving forward.

Heading toward the source point of the scroll.