Zong Ci squatted by the river, as if trying to cool down the inexplicable heat on his face, and lowered his curled fingers into the cold river water.
Although Qian Yuexi pulled people over, when it was time to light the lanterns, she realized that she didn't have any paper or pen.
Normally, such trivial matters were prepared by the little boy. It was nice to move to another space for a while, but now it was a bit awkward to leave the subordinates behind.
He coughed twice and said, "Wait a moment, I'll ask Tianyi to bring some paper and pen."
"Okay." Zong Ci nodded.
The two of them fell silent again. This time the silence was not awkward, but rather filled with an unknown awkwardness.
A cool breeze blew in from the distant woods and valleys, swirling gently in this dark river bend, lifting the boy's long hair that hung on both sides of his cheeks.
In the distance, the street connecting the Taiyan Sect's mountain gate and the town was full of people. The lights held in people's hands gathered into a river of light, connecting in the night sky.
They came to the upper reaches of the river in groups, put their names written on red paper into lanterns, and watched the lanterns sway and float away, leaving a gorgeous and winding tail on the river.
The mottled noise under the blue sky spread to the quiet woods here, as if it was separated by distant mountains.
Zong Ci placed the lantern on a stone beside him and did not stand up. Instead, he lowered his head and stared at the fleeting shadows that he had broken up.
The boy's bony hands gently brushed the water's surface, shattering the flickering light reflected in the pool.
The Cold Clothes Festival and the Lantern Festival are very close to each other. The Lantern Festival is on September 27th, and the Cold Clothes Festival is on October 1st. The two festivals are only three days apart.
For the monks in the world of cultivation, after praying for blessings during the Lantern Festival, they would burn a piece of clothing for their ancestors during the Cold Clothes Festival. The festivals in the second half of the year would have to wait until the Lantern Festival in the beginning of spring next year before they could gather again.
In previous years, the Lantern Festival was a festival that Zong Ci would never miss.
When he first started on the path of cultivation, he followed his master Qingxuzi during the Lantern Festival and did not go down the mountain. He only lit lanterns in the stream next to the Lingguang Hall.
There were too many people at the foot of the mountain, and Qingxuzi didn't like noise. Moreover, even though the stream would experience hanging springs and waterfalls, and turbulent bends, it could still burn steadily and float along the river to the North Sea under the maintenance of spiritual power.
Zong Ci still remembers the first time he celebrated the Lantern Festival. He was so obsessed with practicing swordsmanship all day that he didn't know the customs of this festival exclusive to the world of cultivation. He didn't even know that he had to light lanterns and burn red paper. He just followed Qingxuzi to the river in a daze.
The seven-year-old Zong Ci was dressed in white, just as tall as his master's waist. He held a sword in his hand and imitated the adults with a stern face, like a delicately carved jade doll.
Qingxuzi didn't say much, and was too lazy to explain to him. He just waved his hand to light the lantern, then slowly took out two pieces of red paper with his name written on them from his sleeve and lit them next to the wick.
—The two pieces of red paper, one with “Chu Ci” written on it, the other with “Ling Yun” written on it. In the end, they all turned into black ash under Qingxuzi’s lamp.
They were not talkative people. After releasing the lanterns, they stood there quietly watching them float away, falling along the waterfall to the mountainside, leaving no trace.
On the way back, the ignorant little prince couldn't help but look up and ask, "Master, what is that?"
The man in the green Taoist robe glanced at him calmly and said, "I light the lantern for you. May the blessings and good fortunes bless you with a smooth and healthy journey in your cultivation in the coming year."
Qingxuzi never lit lanterns. His cultivation had reached the highest level, so he naturally looked down on this empty way of praying. But whenever Zongci and he stayed at the main peak, he would remember to light a lantern every year, even if he didn't say it.
It was clearly he who lit the lamps himself, but he never burned his own red paper, only Ling Yun's name.
Later, when Zong Ci went down the mountain to gain experience during his foundation-building period, he accidentally signed a blood contract with a nine-tailed fox.
When he picked up the fox, it was covered in blood, dying, and its tail was broken in several places. It looked extremely miserable.
Fortunately, Zong Ci was the chief disciple of Tai Yan Sect and had a wealthy family, so he was able to pull the man back from the brink of life and death.
It's a pity that the fox lost his memory after waking up. At first, he couldn't even transform into a human form. After transforming into a human form, he only remembered that his name was Rong Lian, and ears and a tail often appeared while he was walking.
It stands to reason that a half-demon cannot transform into a demon. But for some reason, perhaps because of his instinct at the moment of life and death, Rong Lian has mastered this skill that only pure-blooded demons can use. This is why no matter how hard they tried to find out, they could not hear any news about the disappearance of the pure-blooded demons in Qingqiu in the cultivation world.
It was also a training, the other party was still in the late Jindan stage, and since they had signed a blood contract, it seemed that he lacked a lot of common sense due to amnesia. Zong Ci couldn't just leave it alone, otherwise he would be the one to suffer, so the two of them teamed up.
Although he lost his memory, Rong Lian's personality remained unchanged. He was born with a magnificent appearance and a flamboyant and arrogant personality, which complemented Zong Ci, the stern-faced young swordsman.
Together they experienced the world, explored secret places, and slept in the mountains at night, using the sky as a blanket and the ground as a pillow. Thanks to the experience, Zongci's barbecue skills have risen sharply, and his ability to survive in the wild has also improved. He has avoided the backwardness of his mind caused by closed-door thinking and has broadened his horizons in the world.
This time, the person who remembered to light the lanterns became Zongci.
For seven years, every Lantern Festival he would take Rong Lian to the nearby town to buy lanterns, and in the evening they would light the lanterns together by the river.
A fox-like boy in a bright red robe propped up his head beside the river bank, watching the swordsman in white light up the lanterns and put a piece of red paper with the words "Lingyun" written on it into the flames.
The lights in the distance were dim and blurry, but in his narrow and long phoenix eyes there was only the figure of the young man.
"Why buy two?"
Rong Lian suddenly said, "We can just buy one from now on."
The white-clothed swordsman was stunned for a moment, his brows knitted, "No, or else we can put one more..."
"Why not? We have a blood pact, so our fate should be the same. At worst, I can just let you use my lamp."
Rong Lian asked back, with a cunning look like a fox on his face. He took advantage of Zong Ci's inattention and threw the lantern in his hand. Without saying anything, he took the red paper and put it into Zong Ci's lantern.
By the time Zong Ci reacted, Rong Lian's note had already burned up in Zong Ci's lantern.
—The two people’s red papers were burned in the same lamp, which was something that only Taoist couples in the world of cultivation would do. For example, Qingxuzi, who helped Lingyun to gain good fortune, only input spiritual power and never burned his own red paper.
The young swordsman, who always had a calm expression, suddenly lost his composure, his face flushed red, and he couldn't speak for a long time. He stamped his feet, put the lamp down, and put it back into the storage bag, but he couldn't put it into the water.
Rong Lian coaxed him regretfully for a long time, then turned back into his original form and served as his pillow at night, which made the little swordsman calm down a little.
For any demon, the abdomen is their softest and most deadly place, and they will never let others touch it. But now Rong Lian not only transformed into his original form, but also carefully moved his sharp claws away and let the boy rest his head on it.
"What do you want to wish for?"
The fox's furry tail curled around the young man in white, and he pinched his nose and said, "Tell it quietly now, maybe Master Fox will consider helping you realize your wish."
"... ..."
The sword cultivator, who was still somewhat angry, ignored him, closed his eyes for a long time, and his breathing gradually became long in the night sky.
Rong Lian waited for a long time but got no answer. He raised his claws lightly, drew a sound-avoiding spell in the air, and retracted his tail and the person into his arms, like a dragon encircling its treasure, and fell into a drowsy sleep.
The feelings of youth are always pure. Zong Ci was only a teenager at that time, and because he was obsessed with practicing swordsmanship, he was almost ignorant of the ways of the world.
He didn't understand many things at that time. It was not until many years later when he recalled them that he began to understand them.
Just like Zong Ci never told Rong Lian that his wish every year was that he would recover his memory as soon as possible.
On countless nights of camping in the wild, when the sword cultivator woke up from meditation, he would always run into the young man in red sitting on a rock, looking up at the starry night sky.
I don’t know why, but every time Zong Ci saw this scene, he felt the boy’s outline was vague and he felt inexplicably sad.
No one likes to lose their memory for no apparent reason. Perhaps, for Rong Lian, there are also memories that he does not want to forget no matter how hard he tries.
... ... But Zong Ci didn't expect at that time that the day Rong Lian recovered his memory would be the end of their divergent paths.
Later, Zong Ci became the famous Lingyun Sword Master, whose sword could shake the world and half a step could move the sky.
He brought his fellow apprentice into the world and protected Ling Chou during his training.
Master Qingxu traveled around the world without caring about his little disciple, so all the burden fell on his senior brother Zongci.
Zong Ci no longer needs to take advantage of Qingxuzi's good fortune. Those who want to take advantage of Lingyun Sword Master's good fortune can line up from the top of Taiyan Sect's main peak to the mountain gate.
Therefore, in the many years that followed when he and his junior fellow apprentice slayed demons and eliminated evil together, Zong Ci always followed Qingxuzi's example and used his spiritual power to light a lamp, and asked his junior fellow apprentice to burn red paper with his name on it in the lamp to pray for blessings.
One year, the young man in black squatted by the river and suddenly raised his hand, as if he wanted to help Zong Ci write a piece of red paper as well, "Brother, aren't you going to burn it?"
“No need.”
The White-robed Sword Master stood aside, gathering spiritual power silently with his fingertips, pushing the flower lantern away, and patiently explained: "I have a good fortune, so there is no need to pray."
He paused, "Moreover... even among friends, they tend to light lamps for each other. Only Taoist couples light one lamp together."
There was a ripple in Ling Chou's eyes for a moment. He looked at Zong Ci steadily, then lowered his head and responded in a low voice.
"good."
... ...
Now, this should be the first festival that Zongci has celebrated seriously since his death. Even the Lantern Festival at the beginning of the year was not as peaceful as it is now.
One year spent similar, each year is different.
The young man's fingers created ripples on the water surface. Only when the floating golden and red color faded away did he withdraw his hand suddenly.
In the valley not far ahead, a group of people wearing grey coarse linen clothes and with cloth strips wrapped around their heads walked silently.
They were well-organized, their features did not resemble those of ordinary monks, they were muttering to themselves, the lanterns in their hands were simple and plain, and did not fit in with the noisy and bright crowd in the distance.
"That's the ascetic monk of the demon race."
Noticing the boy's gaze, the man's gentle and ethereal voice came from above his head, "They shave their heads, eat vegetarian food and chant Buddhist scriptures, and temper their bodies in harsh environments. They are more hardworking and determined than ordinary monks."
Zong Ci was a little surprised, "Don't the demons not believe in gods and Buddhas?"
Even among human monks there are sects like Yufo Sect and Quanzhen Sect that have religious beliefs, and in the ghost realm there are ghost monks who firmly believe in reincarnation. The demon clan is an exception, they never believe in these things, and the internal hierarchy is more strict and the class division is clear.
"Indeed, their beliefs are not specifically defined. Rather than believing in Buddhism, they are actually seeking peace of mind."
Qian Yuexi explained: "Ordinary demons rarely do this. Only demons who have committed serious mistakes and committed sins will punish themselves in this way. In their eyes, this is a way to forgive sins."
Zong Ci nodded, not quite understanding.
The demon race is a very self-centered race. It would be quite a rare thing if they could really pay for their sins in this way.
Just as they were talking, Tianyi came over with a group of children.
Zong Ci took the red paper and pen from him, wrote down his name, infused spiritual power into the lantern, watched the note being swallowed by the rising flames, gently placed it in the water, and watched the lantern drift away slowly.
After doing all this, he turned around.
The man with black hair and white clothes supported his chin with a lighted lantern on his knees. His flawless profile flickered in the night sky, and his expression seemed to be in some barely perceptible distress.
In the past, the leader of the Tianji Sect always looked as if he was out of touch with the world. When he suddenly saw this scene, Zong Ci was unable to react for a moment.
Qian Yuexi noticed that he turned back and paused, "I put your name in."
Zong Ci then remembered the flickering light he saw when he looked back just now, and thought it should be the traces of burning red paper.
The leader of the Tianji Sect was a man of his words. He said that he would let him take advantage of the good fortune, so he not only lit the lamp but also provided a full range of services.
The young man couldn't control the curve of his mouth for some reason. He curled his lips and said in a brisk tone, "Thank you, Sect Master."
"The next words..."
Just as Zong Ci stepped forward to take the lantern that symbolized the good fortune of the Tianji Sect Master, the latter suddenly muttered to himself, took another piece of red paper from the hand of a child next to him, and accurately placed it next to the wick.
With the help of the newly risen moonlight, Zong Ci saw the words written on the red paper -
Qianyuexi.
This time, the heat rushed directly from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and with a "bang", it almost roasted Zong Ci.