Chapter 467: 279. First marriage then love, obsessed with the Ding Sword, the moon falling in the lake leaves a mute girl

279. First marriage then love, obsessed with the Ding Sword, the moon falling in the lake leaves a mute girl

Having experienced the birth of the Bright and Dark Twin Sword Arts, the bond between the Craftsman and Ouyang Rong became deeper.

At first, Ouyang Rong was not a person of great vigor for the Craftsman.

But according to the old sword-caster of the Ancient Yue Sword Shop, the "Qi" on his body was special, and the Craftsman was greedy for this strange "Qi" of his.

Later, one person and one sword, by a twist of fate, were together, which could be considered a trick of fate.

But they didn't really see eye to eye.

Ouyang Rong disliked the little guy for loving to report small matters, repeatedly snitching to the junior sister, and colluding with Miaosi in rebellion.

Especially since it was too spiritual, its subjective initiative was maxed out, and it also mistakenly stole Rong Zhen's purple bellyband once, plus the beloved sword "Zhishuang" of the Great Female Lord of Yunmeng, seriously dragging down the sword master's reputation.

Anyway, it was unorganized and undisciplined, not "loyal" or honest to the sword master.

The little guy didn't like him either, locking it in a small dark room every day, stuffing it under his butt seat, sitting in that Gouba carriage of his and going out to stroll, stroll, stroll every day. It didn't know what was so good about strolling. If you can't fly yourself, don't stop this Ding Sword from flying? Sometimes look for reasons in yourself, okay? After so many years, has your cultivation base increased? Have you practiced seriously?

And when meeting a group of clowns like Wei Shaoqi, Lin Cheng, Wang Lengran, etc., he was still dawdling, hey, he just wouldn't draw his sword, he was just playing.

Anyway, before this, the relationship between the two was similar to an arranged marriage, just making do, could they still divorce?

Marry a chicken, follow a chicken; marry a dog, follow a dog.

However, ever since Ouyang Rong pioneered and established the two sword arts, one bright and one dark, and killed to his heart's content at the foot of the Xingzi Lake Great Buddha, killing until he was on fire... and gave birth to the legendary "Ding Fire".

The Craftsman suddenly became clingy.

It was no longer like before, where if you didn't come to find me, I wouldn't pay attention to you either.

Instead, it called out "buzz buzz buzz" in Ouyang Rong's ear every day.

It was just like a goddess girlfriend who was cold and independent at first and barely chased, now she starts calling you every day to check on you, and even in the middle of the night, she gets jealous and sends a video to check your pillow and bathroom... she became a clingy little kitten, inseparable from you, obsessed and disturbing, and also insecure.

"The Young Master's Sickly Little Ding Sword: First Marriage Then Love, He's Really Fragrant", right?

Ouyang Rong's mouth twitched.

But this description of the Craftsman's change was very appropriate.

The new sword art, and the birth of the Ding Fire that accompanied the new sword art, made the bond between the Ding Sword and the sword master increasingly profound.

If it were before, one person and one sword, being so far apart, not within the range of sword control, it would be impossible to "buzz" in Ouyang Rong's ear like tonight, but now it could. It didn't know if the distance limit had been relaxed, or if it had risen to ignoring distance and space.

Good fellow, what is a legendary sword wielder... Ouyang Rong couldn't help but lean back slightly.

But what was this sense of déjà vu that made the Ding Sword fall into evil?

Shook his head.

Ouyang Rong quietly changed into a moon-white Confucian shirt and casually picked up an ice-white jade hairpin to tie up his loose black hair.

The weather tonight was good, dark night and high wind.

Covering the white-haired little girl who loved to kick the quilt, touching the forehead of her broken bangs, Ouyang Rong turned around in the darkness and walked to the wardrobe.

Opening the wardrobe, looking at the top layer, his palm passed over the little ink essence Miaosi who was sleeping soundly, Ouyang Rong pulled out a long zither box.

The process of pulling out the zither box bumped into other treasures Miaosi had collected in the cabinet—some bottles and jars, plus a pile of goose feathers pulled from Jingyiting.

"Hmm hmm... Ouyang Lianghan, what are you doing, not sleeping in the middle of the night..."

The little ink essence, the size of a palm, rubbed her sleepy eyes, propped up her upper body, and looked around in confusion.

"What are you going out for? Dressed so handsomely... hmm, seems like it's the Lantern Festival, in the middle of the night, are you going to have a secret meeting with some young lady again?"

Pushing away the suspicious little face she stretched out, Ouyang Rong hugged the zither box and patted his butt to leave.

"Sorry, just dressed casually. Not a secret meeting, let you down."

"Really shameless."

The little ink essence lay down again, turned over, half-lying on the manuscript of "On Chrysanthemums", and continued to sleep soundly.

Before Ouyang Rong left, he glanced at the authentic poem manuscript under her.

The sword arts written by the sword wielder himself all contain the true meaning of the sword art, and have the sword master's own understanding.

It is of great help to subsequent sword wielders, no less than personal teaching.

Similar to the murals on the wall of the Pure Land Underground Palace back then, where Master Zhong Ma used an unknown Ding Sword to inscribe the "Return to Come" Cold Scholar Sword Art.

Ouyang Rong was able to comprehend this Cold Scholar Sword Art so quickly back then, besides reciting it by heart in advance, he also had to attribute it to the true meaning of the Ding Sword left by Master Zhong Ma between the lines on the wall.

Otherwise, just knowing how to recite it without deliberately pondering it, he would still be unable to comprehend the sword art. Just like the "Return to Come" that Ouyang Rong gave to Li Guoer as a birthday gift, when Ouyang Rong wrote it, he hadn't become a sword wielder yet, so it was naturally just an ordinary poem manuscript.

But now this "On Chrysanthemums" manuscript is different, containing the true meaning of the Craftsman, although it is half-missing and not very complete.

By the way, it also has his literary Qi on it, and Miaosi also said she liked it very much, saying it had top-grade literary Qi, which was very rare. Now the little girl even holds it and can't put it down when sleeping.

For such a thing that couldn't see the light for the time being, the first thought in Ouyang Rong's mind was not to destroy it.

Silently keep it hidden.

Using the words the junior sister said when she held his arm and walked forward in big strides after listening to it that day.

Eldest martial brother has a big heart, big pattern, and big spirit... although Ouyang Rong still insisted that the junior sister's heart was bigger.

But this is more like... some kind of tacit inheritance between sword wielders.

Back then, Master Zhong Ma was trapped in the underground palace, drawing a circle as a prison. The only thing he wanted to do before he died was to leave behind the "Cold Scholar Sword Art".

Perhaps at that time, in the thick black smoke that was choking and suffocating, sitting withered on the lotus throne, he only thought about leaving the sword art to the juniors who would rebuild Donglin Temple in the ruins, leaving a legacy of incense for the sect.

However, it also truly saved Ouyang Rong's life when he mistakenly entered the underground palace decades later, and helped him change his destiny at the most critical moment.

Looking further back, three hundred years ago, the legendary sword wielder of the Cold Scholar, Tao Qian, only served as a county magistrate in Dragon City for eighty-one days, refused to bow for five pecks of rice, hung his seal and left, and before returning to seclusion in the mountains and forests, he specially gave the Cold Scholar Sword Art to his high monk friend who was the abbot of Donglin Temple at the time.

A person who has left the world, but holds a heart for the world, whether it is unintentional or intentional, let's not talk about it for now.

But the sword art inheritance of the Donglin Temple lineage started from this.

All gone.

Today, Ouyang Rong's attitude is the same.

Clearing up the context, he just realized one point.

The reason why a legendary sword wielder is a legendary sword wielder is not because he created a sword art for the Ding Sword, but because...

He left behind the sword art.

That's right, left behind.

There must have been selfish sword wielders in history who were brilliant and created sword arts, but hid them until they died.

But history will not remember his name.

Even if he left a name for a while, in the eyes of later sword wielders, he is already no different from nameless, the Dao does not exist.

Because a legendary sword wielder of a Ding Sword is not necessarily just one. As long as the Ding Sword is still there, other brilliant juniors will always be born, summarizing new sword arts.

But this is ultimately a difficult thing, a last resort, similar to a leader who clears the way through the mountains, someone must hold an axe to clear the way, walking forward in big strides. If you stop, or occupy this road, someone will naturally cross you, open up a new road, and lead those who come after.

And if there is such a sword art left behind, opening up the height of the sword wielder's absolute pulse, pushing the end of the absolute pulse backward, later sword wielders will naturally follow the road you opened and move forward, standing on your shoulders, instead of finding another way.

At this time, you are a true legendary sword wielder, and your name becomes an existence known to all later sword wielders.

Just like now, Ouyang Rong is looking for the traces of things left by Tao Qian.

To some extent, this is the true inheritance method of the sword wielder's myth absolute pulse.

It also benefits from the extremely small number of sword wielders. Theoretically, only nine can exist at the same time in the same era. The time span between each generation of sword wielders is long, the intensity of competition between them is extremely low, and tacit cooperation brings far more benefits than selfish exclusive enjoyment.

Because of the Ding struggle, a family, a surname, or even a sect or dynasty cannot monopolize the mythical Ding Sword and the sword wielder's absolute pulse for a long time.

The Ding Sword is psychic. Standing from their perspective, from kings and generals to peddlers and pawns, mortals all covet their mythical power. Most of those they meet are ambitious people, borrowing and demanding blindly.

Only legendary sword wielders are true altruists, who are chiseling the upper limit of this mythical absolute pulse of sword wielders!

Establishing merit, virtue, and words, what is established is the merit of chiseling the absolute pulse, the virtue of selfless inheritance, and the words of the sword art passed down through the ages.

It is no wonder that the Craftsman first married then loved, changing its past cold attitude, and became obsessed and clingy to its former cheap sword master Ouyang Rong.

She waited at the bottom of the lake, yearning and anxious, like a Stone of Waiting for a Husband, for the arrival of a certain dead soul.

If it were before, the Craftsman would lie at the bottom of the lake, motionless, ignoring Ouyang Rong. If it forgot, it forgot. At worst, it would sleep for a hundred years first, sending away a certain doggiest sword master first. Anyway, when it comes out later, it will still be a little sweet, fought over by others...

Unfortunately, it can't go back.

Ouyang Rong didn't sneak out, but boarded a carriage that had been waiting for a long time at the back door.

A-Li received the young master's instructions during the day, specially fed the horses, and waited at the back door in the middle of the night.

Ouyang Rong rode out openly.

There was no curfew in the whole city tonight, because the day was special.

He lifted the curtain and glanced at the sky in the distance.

In the direction of Xiushui Fang, fireworks were blooming one after another, which were fireworks set off in advance by wealthy families.

It had just passed midnight, which was past twelve o'clock, and now it was the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month.

The Lantern Festival of the Great Zhou Dynasty has a three-day holiday, from the fourteenth to the sixteenth of the first lunar month, and the curfew will also be lifted on these nights, allowing the people to go out at night to enjoy the lanterns and play, which is called "releasing the night".

Although it was still the fourteenth of the first lunar month before twelve o'clock, the curfew had already been lifted in advance on the night of the fourteenth.

So Ouyang Rong chose to go over openly, and the reason was very sufficient.

"Brother Huaimin shouldn't be asleep yet..."

Ouyang Rong's face was a bit embarrassed.

Donglin Temple was not completely demolished, only half was demolished, back then it was given up for the statue of the Great Buddha in Xingzi Fang.

With Xingzi Lake as the boundary, the west bank of the lake is the Xingzi Fang construction site, and the north bank is the remaining Donglin Temple buildings.

Yuan Huaimin still lived in this temple, hearing him say he was used to living there and didn't want to change much.

Because of the accidental promotion to Jiangzhou Changshi, the old abbot and a group of disciples of Donglin Temple were very polite to him, and didn't drive him away like they did other poor scholars, which made people sigh.

Since everyone said Lianghan hadn't slept either, then it's normal for him to go find a friend to drink and play the zither in the middle of the night, right?

Even if discovered by the female officials of the Supervisory Court, it's nothing, right? After all, thanks to Brother Huaimin, now all the people in the world probably know the hobby of Jiangzhou Sima Ouyang Lianghan, who doesn't sleep in the middle of the night and likes to go to Donglin Temple to mess around with someone.

Ouyang Rong hugged the zither box and nodded expressionlessly.

Although there was no moon tonight, there were quite a few fireworks in Xunyang City, mainly concentrated in the wealthy Xiushui Fang, followed by Xunyang Fang.

Just past midnight, the fireworks in the two fangs were set off into the sky without money.

Xingzi Fang was different, almost no one waited for the point to set off fireworks, most of them were left for the night of the Lantern Festival.

After the Buddha head and the female officials of the Sitian Jian withdrew, the Xingzi Lake construction site was pitch black, and the lake water was also pitch black and calm, only some halls and courtyards of Donglin Temple on the opposite bank were lit with lamps, having the artistic conception of watching the fire from the opposite bank.

In the southwest corner of Donglin Temple, near a small courtyard by the lake, more than a dozen lanterns were gathered in the center of the courtyard. They swayed left and right, as if they were held in the hands of black shadows, and the lantern holders were looking up at the fireworks.

The plaque of this courtyard is named Beitian Jiyang Yuan.

Tonight is the eve of the Lantern Festival, and the monks allow these poor and pitiful people to light lanterns.

Actually, these lanterns were not bought by the temple, but were sent by the Jiangzhou Hall by Yuan Huaimin.

The monks distributed them, of course, also deducting a little from them.

Temples in the Great Zhou Dynasty actually mostly have this kind of welfare home, used to take in the disabled, old, and young.

It is considered a livelihood project, especially the current Inspector Ouyang Lianghan, who, when he took office as Changshi before, seemed to pay special attention to this kind of welfare home, sending people to carefully repair it throughout Jiangzhou, leading to a chorus of praise.

At the moment, in the Beitian Jiyang Yuan in Donglin Temple, those who have not been picked up by their families to go home for the festival on the eve of the Lantern Festival are almost certainly pitiful children who really have no one to want them.

In the center of the courtyard, a group of disabled old and young held lanterns, silent, looking up at the fireworks in the wealthy Xiushui Fang in the distance.

Each face has its own loneliness and hope.

And in the southwest corner of the courtyard, a thin and weak inconspicuous girl was sitting alone.

She also had no family to pick her up, no family to send her tangyuan, and the monks didn't even give her a lantern.

Because... she couldn't use it.

The thin girl didn't watch the fireworks with her companions, sat alone on the ground, hugged her knees with both hands, turned her back to the crowd, her appearance hidden by the darkness, and the little finger of her right hand hugging her knees was missing.

She was as quiet as a virgin, her blurred face seemed to be facing the lonely lake water.

Although she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, the sound of the Great Buddha collapsing that day, the sound of the Ding Fire burning in the sky, the howling of the dog official being beheaded, the sound of the female officials and soldiers rushing, the angry roar of the purple-clothed old woman...

All rang in her ears.

In these noisy sounds, she alone heard a faint, tiny sound of something containing surging mythical power falling into the water, "ding dong".

Zhao Qingxiu was absolutely certain that a "star" had fallen into Xingzi Lake.

(End of chapter)

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by, Lewen lwshuku ===== CHAPTER 468 =====