After leaving the camp where the monks gathered, Mu Xue and his group moved forward along the sacred road.
As the Shintoism deepened, the world became more chaotic and unclear. The sky was filled with yellow sand and it was impossible to distinguish the sun and the moon.
The collapsed statues on the roadside gradually disappeared, and some huge shadows were floating in the sky. They had pale and dull faces, and empty and swaying bodies.
The one or two wisps of divine consciousness left by the ancient gods in the world have been wandering in the divine way for tens of millions of years, and gradually condensed into such an illusory body.
During the journey, there would occasionally be three or five Taoist or demonic cultivators passing by hurriedly on the road.
The monks who could cross the sea of lust and reach here were different from those who came to "experience life" from the outer reaches of the divine way. Most of them were elite disciples with special skills from various sects and families. They ventured into the temple not for the sake of the one or two spiritual herbs and minerals, but for a more specific goal.
Therefore, most of these people are in a hurry, cautious, and have little contact with others.
Mu Xue was digging a clay stove on a slope, preparing to build a new earthen pot to cook dinner.
She held clods of earth of varying sizes in her hands, feeling somewhat uneasy.
Miao Honger and Fu Yun, who were still in the foundation-building stage, might not have noticed it, but Mu Xue, whose soul had already been condensed, had faintly sensed it. Along the way, there was a familiar aura that had been hanging over them from a distance.
Mu Xue was so familiar with that person's spiritual sense that she could tell who it was without even having to check.
Why did Xiao Shan follow them? Maybe they happened to be going the same way, or maybe he just wanted to eat some clay pot
Thinking that she would be happily eating roasted potatoes with her fellow brothers and sisters while Xiaoshan could only stand far away and peek, Mu Xue, who always doted on her disciples, felt a little uncomfortable.
I wish there was some way I could pretend to notice him without making any noise and then send him some roasted potatoes.
"Ah, Xiaoxue, you can actually make a clay pot?" Miao Hong'er came back from looking for ingredients. Seeing Mu Xue making this, she was very interested and rolled up her sleeves to join in. "This thing is very common among the people in the northwest, but not so common here. I didn't expect you to be able to make it at such a young age. Come, let me add some ingredients."
Miao Hong'er caught a duck from somewhere, and after bleeding and removing the feathers, she rubbed the duck's body with her nimble hands. I don't know how her hands moved, but she actually pulled out the entire duck skeleton through a small opening on the duck's neck.
The duck skeleton was pulled out, but the skin and flesh remained intact, like an empty pocket. Miao Honger stuffed the duck with chestnuts, mushrooms, bamboo shoots and other ingredients, stuffed the duck until it was plump, then sewed up the pocket, added various seasonings to make it taste good, then wrapped the duck with lotus leaves, covered it with wet mud, and placed it together with Mu Xue's potatoes, ready to be roasted in the fire.
Her series of operations were as smooth as flowing water, fluent and beautiful, which left Mu Xue stunned.
The luggage that other people carried when entering the Divine Realm was either weapons and medicines to save their lives, or goods for trading. But this senior sister's backpack was filled with all kinds of dry goods, seasonings, and food.
When Xiao Shan was young, Mu Xue also liked to make delicious food to fatten up her apprentice. But now, she has to admit defeat in front of the cooking skills of Miao Honger, the skilled chef.
"This is a ground pot. I haven't eaten it for many years. My wife used to cook this in the fields." An old voice sounded from not far away.
When the voice started speaking, it was some distance away from them, but when it said the last word, the person was already right in front of them.
Mu Xue looked up and saw an old man squatting on a pile of dirt not far away, looking at their earthen pot with shining eyes. The old man had white hair and beard, was thin, short, and dressed in a gray homespun cloth. He carried a erhu and a saddlebag on his back. He looked like an ordinary old farmer in the countryside.
Of course, it is impossible for an ordinary person to appear in the depths of Shinto.
Miao Honger and Fu Yun stood up and calmly blocked Mu Xue behind them.
"Don't be nervous, little kids. I just want to ask you for a bite of food." The old man squatted on the dirt. "I won't eat your food for free. You are going to cross the dead road, right? I will exchange it with you for the food on the way."
He took out a small stack of yellow paper from his bosom and shook it. It had a round square hole and was printed with a golden swastika. It was paper money used by the mortal world to pray for the souls of the dead.
The ancient god Dongyue was once the great god in charge of the birth of all things in the world, and unified the ghosts and spirits. It is said that when someone dies, their soul returns to Dongyue. The "Duanluo Road" in this Shinto is where the souls of the dead gather and no living person can approach it.
If the living want to cross the path of the dead, they must prepare such "offerings" in order to get away with it.
Before entering the Shinto shrine, Fu Yun and others had also inquired about the situation here, so they were naturally prepared.
But the paper money taken out by the ordinary-dressed old man in front of him was extraordinary. It faintly revealed the golden light of merit blessed by Buddhist monks and was most useful in the ghost world.
Fu Yun knew that he was of an extraordinary origin. After thinking for a while, he took the yellow paper and said, "Thank you for your courtesy, Senior. But I will give you some food when it is ready."
The wrinkles on the old man's face wrinkled as he smiled, "Okay, then I'll be waiting. My last name is Zhong, you can just call me Uncle Zhong."
Zhong Bo untied the erhu on his back, held it in his arms, turned the pegs and tuned the strings, and said nonchalantly, "It seems that I am not the only one attracted by this smell. My friend, why are you sneaking around? Come out now."
Everyone turned back following Zhong Bo's gaze, and saw a cloaked figure slowly walking out from among the trees in the distance.
"Brother Cen?" Fu Yun clasped his fists and greeted him, "What a coincidence, why are you here too?"
Cen Qianshan didn't know how to answer this question. His eyes turned slightly in the direction of Mu Xue. Even he himself didn't understand. Although he also wanted to take this path, he didn't know why he followed these people all the way inexplicably.
"Could it be that Brother Dao is also going to cross the path of death?" Fortunately, Fu Yun gave him a way out.
Cen Qianshan finally nodded silently.
Fu Yun had mixed feelings about this demon cultivator. His personality was too fickle. When he was in the Sea of Desire, he fought against all the monsters, crossed the sea in a boat, laughed in blood, and was fierce and arrogant. Now he was silent and taciturn, gloomy and depressed.
But no matter what, he once saved his life, and out of the etiquette he was taught since childhood, Fu Yun politely invited him to have dinner with him.
The lonely man was silent for a while, then he slowly walked to the stove and sat down.
The sudden turn of events fulfilled Mu Xue's wish, making her very happy.
Perhaps because I was pretending to be excited, I was careless with my hands.
When Mu Xue knocked on the tower of red-hot earth blocks, the red-hot earth blocks did not collapse into the stove as planned. Instead, several blocks collapsed and bounced towards Mu Xue.
Before she could dodge, a bandaged arm appeared in front of her. The hand was so fast that it turned into several afterimages and caught the flying dirt one by one in its hand.
The lumps of earth had been roasted in the flames for a long time and were already red and hot, and thick smoke came out when they were touched, but Cen Qianshan didn't seem to care at all as he held them. He glanced at Mu Xue, calmly threw the lumps of earth back into the stove, and took the stick from her to hit the lumps of earth tower.
"Let me do it." He said lightly.
He moved quickly, and seemed to be equally familiar with the matter. Even more skilled than Mu Xue, he knocked the red-hot earth into the stove in a few seconds, and quickly covered the stove mouth with sand, sealing off all the heat so that the food in the stove could be fully roasted.
While waiting for the food to be cooked, Mu Xue took a can of burn ointment and sat next to Cen Qianshan.
"Thank you for that. Are you burned?"
She naturally pulled up Cen Qianshan's burned right hand. The bandage on his palm was burned by the charcoal fire and now fell down, revealing the scarred skin on his arm.
Where do all these criss-crossing scars come from!
Mu Xue frowned.
When his palm was touched, Cen Qianshan subconsciously wanted to withdraw his hand, but his fingers were held by a short, round hand.
"Don't move. I'll apply some medicine on you." The six-year-old kid said, holding his hand.
She lowered her head in concentration, and from Cen Qianshan's perspective, he could only see the two black buns on top of her head.
A little cold touch covered the burned skin on his palm. It was the small fingertips dipped in the cold ointment and rubbed back and forth on his palm, causing a little itchiness.
She held her hand, applied the medicine, and then blew gently on it. The cool air flow blew on the palm of her hand, dispelling the burning pain and blowing into a memory of the past.
At that time, Cen Qianshan had just become the master's disciple and climbed up the shelf to get a small can of fire dragon blood.
In the past, he had always done things seriously and had never made any mistakes. But just that one time, for some unknown reason, his hand slipped and he watched helplessly as the precious potion fell from the air.
He threw himself forward, trying to catch the fallen can, but unfortunately the can still brushed past his fingertips and fell to the ground. With a snap, it broke into pieces, and the red solution splashed all over his hands.
The blood of the fire dragon is highly corrosive. When it splashed onto the hands, it burned the skin and caused smoke to rise, causing a burning pain.
But at this moment he no longer cared about his hands. He knew clearly how much effort his master had spent and how many times he had run to the shopping street in order to buy this bottle of fire dragon blood.
This tiny bit of dragon blood is enough to buy several children like him.
He lay desperately on the ground, trying to collect the remaining dragon blood.
"What are you doing!" Master's angry voice came from the door.
Cen Qianshan shuddered. He had made the same mistake once when he was young. At that time, his adoptive father stripped him of his clothes and whipped him so hard that he could not get out of bed for three days.
The master strode in, lifted him up from the ground, placed him on the operating table, grabbed his hand, and turned his palm over.
He thought he would be punished, but the cold liquid washed away the burning pain in his palm. The master also frowned like this, applying medicine to himself and blowing gently on the wound.
"How could you be so stupid? The dragon's blood fell and it fell. Why are you so stupid as to use your hands to catch it?"
After waiting for a long time without any punishment, Cen Qianshan stuttered and asked, "No... You won't hit me?"
"Beat him, why not?" The master looked up at him unhappily, then lowered his head to treat his wounds, "You must beat him hard, spank his butt, you owe it first, I will remember it."
The debts kept piling up, and as the years went by, there was no chance to pay them back.
Later, he often went hunting in the wilderness. When he got a dragon-blood phoenix feather, he would run back eagerly to give it to his master.
Then I would go closer to my master and act coquettishly with him using the little wounds on my body, waiting for him to apply medicine on me and blow on me, my heart secretly filled with the sweetness of being pampered.
With the cold breath still blowing on his palm, Cen Qianshan woke up from his memories and pulled his hand back.
The child's white fingers loosened, and the warm touch still lingered on his skin. Strangely, it didn't make him feel disgusted.
Because of the trauma left by his adoptive father in his childhood, Cen Qianshan hates having physical contact with others.
This was probably the rare person, other than his master, who didn't make him feel uncomfortable when he was touched.
Perhaps it was because she was still a child, Cen Qianshan thought.
The roasted eight-treasure duck and potatoes were pulled out of the earthen stove.
The tender and juicy boneless duck meat was paired with mushrooms, chestnuts, winter bamboo shoots and other crispy mountain delicacies. There were also potatoes that gave off steam when you broke them open and you could blow on them while eating. This dinner under the setting sun was highly praised by everyone.
Mu Xue was the youngest and was busy serving food to everyone.
"The kids have great cooking skills, almost as good as I used to be." Uncle Zhong, who had a meal with paper money for the dead, couldn't help but praise them.
"Uncle Zhong, is your mother-in-law's cooking skill really that good? Can she be better than my senior sister?" Mu Xue added a portion of crispy potatoes and duck breast for him.
The smile under Zhong Bo's white beard gradually turned bitter. "When my old wife was still alive, I actually didn't think her cooking was delicious. At that time, I only cared about the great principles, and didn't pay much attention to the relationship between men and women, and the relationship between husband and wife."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Mu Xue didn't expect that the smiling old man's spouse was no longer alive.
"Nothing. It's been a long time." Zhong Bo waved his hand. "Before, I was busy practicing, and the old woman always followed me, telling me to eat this and that. At that time, I just thought she was noisy and hindered my important matters. Until one day, she suddenly passed away. I suddenly realized that I was left with nothing behind me. Nothing worked, and it was difficult to make any progress in my practice. That's why I took the risk to come here to cross the dead path this time."
Fu Yun suddenly realized what was going on when he heard this: "So, you entered this path to the dead in order to see the dead again?"
Zhong Bo nodded: "Yes, I want to see you again anyway."
There is a ghost gate in the Road of the Dead. When you pass through that door, you can meet your deceased relatives again.
Zhongbo took the erhu and played it slowly, letting out a sigh.
Save the dead, save the souls of the deceased, and save the hearts of the living.
The sound of the piano is like weeping and complaining, entering the blue sky and going down to the underworld, to be told in detail to old friends.
Finally, he sighed and said, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have mentioned these things during a meal. You little kids, why did you come to the Way of the Dead? Do you have someone you can't let go of?"
Fu Yun explained: "That's not the case. We want to go to the Endless Pool, but I don't know where Brother Cen is?"
He took the opportunity to find out Cen Qianshan's intentions, hoping to spend some time in peace with this demon cultivator who had helped him.
Cen Qianshan slowly broke the food in his hand, "I am also going to the Endless Pond, but I am also going to the Road of Death, there are people I long to see... the most important person in my life."
Zhong Bo sighed and said, "Looking at you like this, are you also going to see your deceased lover?"
Cen Qianshan lowered his eyelashes, and after a moment he slowly said: "Yes, she is the love of my life, and also my teacher."
Mu Xue, who was sitting by the stove, was caught off guard when she heard this and was choked by the food, causing her to cough violently.