Chapter 587 Martial arts have been dead for 800 years
In the Tianshu Tower, Mo Que was so engrossed that he didn't notice Chu Weiyu leaving at all.
When he noticed this, he went up to the seventh floor alone.
It was just that he couldn't find a way to retrieve his memory, but he contacted the fragments in his mind and tried to find some books related to martial arts, but he found nothing.
The seventh floor and the eighth floor are all like this.
Although there are indeed many mysterious books on these two floors, which are no different from treasures to ordinary people, they are not attractive at all to him who has a blank memory and almost no desires.
Seeing that only the last floor was left, Mo Que almost gave up hope.
Sure enough, the books on the ninth floor were more profound and complex, but he flipped through them for a long time and still couldn't find any content related to martial arts.
"Young man, what book are you looking for?"
There was almost no one on the ninth floor, except for an old man with hair as dry as grass and a frighteningly old man.
Seemingly seeing that Mo Que had flipped through a lot of books, but none of them could be read for a long time, the old man stepped forward and said: "I am the keeper of the Tianshu Tower. On weekdays, I am responsible for sorting out the books in the building, cleaning the dust, and keeping an eye on the building."
I know the location of each book very well and may be able to help you."
This old man looked more like a ghost than a human being. He was skinny and skinny, with hair as dry as grass, sunken eye sockets, and a hoarse and low voice. In addition, there was no one else on the ninth floor. His sudden appearance would have shocked ordinary people.
But Mo Que was simple-minded and did not feel scared. Instead, he said happily: "Old man, can you really help me?"
He had no scheming and no defense against strangers. He truthfully told the truth about his amnesia, the reason why he came to Tianshu Tower to look for books, and the martial arts fragments in his memory.
After listening to this, the old man couldn't see the joy, anger, sorrow or joy in his turbid eyes. Although he was smiling, his laughter was scarier than crying.
"It turns out you want to restore your past memories!"
After listening, the old man said hoarsely: "In life, the greatest pain often comes from memory. Being able to forget is sometimes a blessing. Why do you have to remember it?"
Mo Que was stunned for a moment. He simply lowered his head and thought for a moment before finally understanding what the old man meant.
He thought for a while and said seriously: "But even pain is a part of me. If I don't even know who I am, I will feel that I am incomplete, just like... just like..."
He was as innocent as a piece of paper and didn't know how to express it. After thinking for a long time, he saw the clothes Jiang Li made for him and said, "It's like a sleeve. If there are only sleeves and no clothes, is this clothes still clothes?"
His metaphor sounds a bit childish, but because of this, it feels more sincere.
The old man was slightly startled and murmured: "Pain is also a part of me?"
After being lost for a moment, the old man showed a smile that was scarier than crying, and said: "You young man, you are quite interesting. You have forgotten the past, but you still remember your name?"
Mo Que nodded and said, "I only remember that my name is Mo Que, and there are some things I can't understand."
"Mo Que? I'd rather be hurt than Mo Ke Que. Your name is just like your personality!" The old man felt that this name was like what the young man said. Even pain is a part of him and he is willing to bear it.
It's better to be hurt than to be missing.
"People in the Dao First Palace call me Old Ghost." The old man added: "On this ninth floor, only the old people in the Dao First Palace are usually qualified to come up. It's rare to see such an interesting young man like you.
I’ll help you just once.”
When Mo Que heard this, he couldn't help but said happily: "Thank you very much, old man."
"Wait here." The old man smiled horribly and asked Mo Que to stay here. Then he walked to the corner and disappeared.
Mo Que stayed where he was and did not chase after the old man to see where he had gone.
After a while, the old man returned again and brought back several old books.
He said: "These are the books on martial arts you are looking for."
Mo Que quickly took it and said happily: "Old man, where did you find these? I found them from the first floor to the ninth floor, but I couldn't find any of them!"
The old man shook his head and said: "Of course you can't find it, because all books about martial arts are banned."
Knowing that Mo Que was innocent, the old man explained: "The so-called forbidden books are books that cannot be preserved or read. Even the Lord of the Palace of Daoyi or the old monsters in the palace did not read these books.
qualifications."
Mo Que suddenly felt that the weight of these books in his hands was a bit heavy.
He wondered: "Why are these books banned?"
This time, the old man did not explain, but said: "You will understand after you see it yourself."
He turned around and left, saying: "On weekdays, almost no one comes to the ninth floor. You can read these books here in peace, but remember, you are not allowed to take them down to the ninth floor."
Mo Que suddenly felt a lot of confusion in his heart, but seeing that the old man didn't intend to explain, he sat down silently, opened a few books in his hand, and started reading.
When he opened the book in his hand, Mo Que's face gradually became heavy. Later, his hand holding the book was trembling, as if he had been stimulated by some kind of stimulus.
According to the records in this book, martial arts has died and no longer exists in the world.
Moreover, it has been eight hundred years since the demise of martial arts!
"Martial arts has been dead for eight hundred years? Why is this so?"
In his mind, those memory fragments began to come alive again, becoming complex and intertwined. Among them, the word martial arts existed in almost every memory fragment, which made Mo Que deeply feel the close connection between martial arts and himself.
"Martial arts is dead. Why is martial arts closely related to me in these memory fragments?"
"If martial arts perished eight hundred years ago, how could I have so many memories related to martial arts?"
"In the end what happened?"
The memory fragments in his mind were intertwined in confusion, giving Mo Que a splitting headache.
He couldn't tell whether this pain stemmed from confused memories or the grief he felt from knowing that martial arts was dead!
"I am dead, but I am still alive in the world. If I died when martial arts existed, have I been dead for eight hundred years?"
"Since I have been dead for eight hundred years, why am I still alive and why have I forgotten everything?"
Mo Que felt as if his brain was about to explode. Those chaotic memory fragments were intertwined in his brain, but they could not be connected in series.
In those memories, he once saw himself bleeding out the last drop of blood and dying.
But now, he is still alive.
"Martial arts has been at its peak for ten thousand years? This is what I have said. Who have I promised?"
Mo Que could no longer tell whether the pain was from the physical body or from grief. He only knew that his body and mind felt like they had been torn apart thousands of times, making him miserable!
"I want martial arts to flourish for ten thousand years? But now, martial arts has been extinct for eight hundred years. I failed to fulfill my original promise?"
"But why did martial arts die? Why did I die? And why did I come back to life?"