Chapter 1203: Don't Listen to Useless Grand Principles

Changle, having been successfully frightened, chose to stay away from Zao, and Zao also felt instantly relieved and no longer itchy, so he hurriedly left this place to go teach his disciples.

When Changle is not lecturing, he is a gentle young man, but the moment he starts lecturing, he immediately feels as if he has aged several times over, making people feel great pressure, annoyance, and a desire to stay far away.

Baifeng is just like this, and Changle seems to have inherited that kind of temperament from Baifeng, while Yulong does not; Baifeng himself does not even know about this, and one can assume this is the greasy feeling of a middle-aged man who loves to lecture.

As long as a middle-aged man whose career is not very good and whose life is not very happy starts telling people he considers younger than himself about the life principles he believes in, he is often very confident and believes that his principles are the ultimate truth, applicable anywhere, and are summaries of his own failed life.

Of course, my advice to everyone is: do not listen. A failed person cannot summarize much that is useful. Also, when relatives who are neither business tycoons nor high-ranking officials lecture you or offer you life guidance, do not listen to them either.

Because they are not successful themselves; they are just talking about the limited experience within their own narrow circles, which is not even that useful, and it has already fallen out of step with the times. Are they going to tell you to go to work early and clean the office for your boss so you can leave a good impression and get a raise?

These are all useless things. Young people, remember: you read more books, you have been to more places, and you have a broader range of knowledge; it should be you giving them advice, not them giving you advice.

If you feel confused about something, ask someone three years older than you, and you will get a decent answer without being lectured. Anything more than three years, forget it; your thoughts are already on different levels.

Listening to greasy middle-aged men tell you life philosophies, or middle-aged women talk about the hardships of parenting and the difficulties of marriage, is not as good as finding an old man on the street and listening to them tell stories about the fifties, sixties, and seventies; it is very interesting, and they are also very happy to talk.

The two most interesting old men I (the author) have met: one was a Vietnam War veteran who told me about his time fighting in the war and what he did after the war; it was very interesting.

The other was an old man I met when I worked at the Hospital; he was once an editor for a local district newspaper and told me about his time as an educated youth sent to the countryside, his later time in the Art Regiment and dance troupe, and his experiences going to the southwestern frontier and ethnic minority areas to collect material.

They had culture, they had experience, and their speech was extremely logical and gentle; they would not open their mouths with "you listen to me" or "you listen to what I say."

Whenever they start lecturing, my butt gets itchy—of course, not because of fleas, just purely itchy; I don't want to listen, I can't sit still, truly like sitting on pins and needles.

Zao fled away, but I cannot flee; moreover, to Zao, Changle is someone who far exceeds him in career, status, and knowledge. As long as Changle says a few good words, Zao's career or life could see a better change.

But Zao left, and Changle was not angry; it just so happened that this was his original intention. He does not like having someone following him all the time—not a guard, yet always silent—it is extremely uncomfortable.

Yishang, supported by the Soldiers, also set off. After eating a bowl of porridge, Yishang was a little better, but it was not obvious, though at least it had not worsened. The doctor was not at ease after seeing him, but this was all that could be done. He instructed the Soldiers to hurry on their way and make sure Yishang ate; if he felt uncomfortable, they should carry him on a stretcher.

A stretcher is easy to make; there is rope, and wood is everywhere. Just chop and tie it, then spread out Yishang's animal skins and such, and Yishang could lie down comfortably.

However, Yishang still thought he had not reached that point, and he did not want to affect his Soldiers or add more burdens to them because of this, so he chose to ride an ox.

On the ox, he was wrapped up tightly—robe, hat, and an extra layer of fur blanket on the outside—and he just swayed along on the ox like that.

Everything was fine at first, but Yishang felt himself getting dizzier and dizzier, and then, suddenly, he collapsed. The Soldier beside Yishang was quick-eyed and fast-handed; while crying out in alarm, his hands had already caught Yishang as he fell from the ox's back.

The other Soldiers also hurried over, some pulling the ox, some supporting the person, and only then, with great difficulty and without further mishap, did they manage to help Yishang down from the ox's back.

"General, General, are you alright?! Don't scare us!"

Yishang forced himself to speak: "It's fine, it's fine, it's not a big problem, I just suddenly felt dizzy for a moment."

The Soldiers were scared out of their wits and would no longer believe Yishang's claim that it was not a big problem. They forcefully wrapped Yishang up and placed him on the stretcher. Yishang was too weak to refuse and could only let the Soldiers carry him.

And the group of Soldiers also felt that carrying him was easier; at least the mental pressure was not as great. They did not need to keep looking up at Yishang, only needing to watch the road under their feet. When they were tired, they would naturally change shifts; with so many people, there was no fear of running out of strength.

To let Yishang arrive earlier, they did not dare to rest at noon. After eating a little bit hastily, they continued on their way. If Yishang did not want to eat or could not eat, he would be force-fed a bowl of sugar and salt water; only after watching Yishang drink it could the Soldiers be at ease.

Every afternoon was when Yishang was most comfortable. His symptoms were much lighter in the afternoon, and he could sleep soundly. If he did not sleep, he would have the strength to talk and converse with the Soldiers. When Yishang spoke, the Soldiers were at ease; after all, keeping Yishang alive was their greatest and most important mission.

Because their speed was a bit faster and their rest times were short, they would reach the campsite very early. But to save time, they could not stay at the campsite and had to continue forward until they reached a suitable place to stop and set up camp.

If they kept going like this, the journey that would normally take a safe dozen days could definitely be compressed to within ten days. Arriving one day earlier meant one more chance for Yishang to survive.

The Soldiers all remembered the doctor's instructions. Don't look at the fact that Yishang was still alive now; if he could not pull through, he could die at any moment. Even if he did not die, he might damage his body in the future and never be as robust as before.