Volume Four, The Year of the Curtain, Chapter 154: Chang'an, Snowfall
Yu Lian continued: "This person had another adventure after arriving in the South China Sea, although no one knows the details - because when the teacher saw Pippi as a child, he once lamented that there is a bright future."
Ning Que was slightly startled and said, "The Great Priest of Light who disappeared in the South China Sea six hundred years ago?"
Yu Lian said: "Yes, I always think he gained a lot from this matter."
Ning Que looked at the stones in front of the south gate and was silent for a long time. He still felt a little unwilling and asked: "Senior brother and senior sister join forces, can't they defeat him?"
"The teacher once said that life is a practice."
Yu Lian said: "...then the practice is sometimes compared with years. He has lived longer than me and my senior brother, so he is naturally better than us. Although my senior brother is extremely talented, his temperament is too gentle. Even if he learns to fight,
In the end, he cannot be his opponent."
She did not comment on herself, which was also a kind of acquiescence. Ning Que also thought of a very troublesome and critical issue. The third senior sister is still injured, possibly very seriously.
The leader of the Xiling Temple is the most powerful person in the five realms. Although she is the most mysterious and powerful twenty-three-year-old cicada, there must be some price to pay to completely defeat that person.
Under the current situation, the only person in the world who can defeat the master of Zhishou Temple is the Shocking God Formation.
Ning Que turned around and walked towards the city gate to continue his journey of solving the problem.
With the passage of time, and because of the additional barriers outside the south gate, the flow of heaven and earth energy in Chang'an City became more and more stagnant, especially the hidden line between life and death, which was very seriously blocked.
Ning Que walked on the Suzaku Avenue, walking between the blocked atmosphere of heaven and earth.
Countless refugees who had evacuated into Chang'an City were arranged by the imperial court and the city to live in various people's houses. There were only a few pedestrians on the long street. Most of the shops and restaurants along the street had been closed. They were no longer as popular as usual. The cold winter wind was blowing in the air.
The wind blew back and forth in the street, making it look particularly deserted.
The block formation outside the south gate has very little effect. Although it can block the viewer to some extent, it has been confirmed that it is impossible to break away the blocked Jingshen Formation in a short period of time. So where can he mobilize from?
So much energy from heaven and earth to repair this stunning formation?
This problem has troubled him for a long time. He stayed up for days and nights, thinking hard, occasionally feeling something, and even having specific ideas. But he couldn't find a way to implement it.
"How can those illusory breaths become real power?"
Ning Que asked, looking at the Suzaku portrait in the middle of the street.
Suzaku didn't answer because it didn't know either.
Ning Que turned around and continued walking, thinking about the steamed bun shop he saw on the bank of Yanming Lake that morning. The heat mist on the bluestone slabs, and his feelings at that time, made him feel more and more depressed.
He vaguely understood what he should do, but he didn't know how to do it.
I see hope in front of me, but I don’t know how to hold on to it. I see the other shore, but there is no boat, so my worries become more and more intense.
He walked outside a quiet alley and suddenly heard the sound of reading coming from behind the wall.
I don't know who's private school teacher is teaching Tang Lv Shu Yi to the students.
Judging from the voices, those students must be very young. Their childish voices recited complicated Tang laws and regulations. They were uneven, but they were very attentive. It was interesting and touching.
Seeing that the country is about to be destroyed and the family is about to perish, there is still the sound of reading in the streets and alleys.
You can still hear the Tang law.
This calmness is touching, even awe-inspiring.
Because there is a kind of power in this calmness.
Ning Que stood outside the wall. He listened quietly to the sound of reading inside the wall for a long time.
This is the breath of the world, but how can we make this power concrete?
…
…
The South Gate view in front of the palace is very quiet.
Because of the tampering of the imperial edict and the incident of He Mingchi, the attitude of the Tang Dynasty towards Nanmen Temple changed greatly. There were many people hiding outside the Taoist temple. They were very frightened.
Ning Que climbed up the stairs and entered the South Gate Temple.
The Taoists in the Taoist temple were shocked when they saw it was him, and then stepped forward to salute.
He is the disciple of Master Yan Se, and the Taoists at Nanmen Temple call him senior brother.
Ning Que waved his hand, signaling everyone to ignore him.
He walked into the quiet Taoist temple alone, stood under the wall, and looked at the scriptures and stories painted in oil paintings, as well as the myth-like legends, and was silent for a long time.
Transforming the breath of the world into real power is what religion is best at doing.
This is what is called the power of faith.
Although the power of Taoism's faith is used to pray to Haotian and connect the gods and men of heaven and earth, which is completely opposite to what he wants to do now, but he wants to see if he can get some kind of inspiration.
…
…
Ning Que walked around Chang'an City, just like he did that summer when he first realized the talisman.
So he came to Wanyan Pagoda Temple again and climbed up to Wanyan Pagoda.
Standing by the small window on the top of the tower, looking at the quiet city of Chang'an, he asked: "Can human thoughts really be turned into concrete power? If so, through what channels?"
"Thoughts themselves have no power, but once they are displayed, they may show some kind of power. Just like His Majesty the Emperor's imperial edict, if it is just an idea in his mind, it will have no effect. It can only be expressed when he speaks it or writes it down on paper.
Only then will his ideas be effective."
Master Huang Yang walked up to him, looked at the last group of autumn geese heading south in the sky, and said: "If the path you are asking about is equivalent to means, language is a means, and words are also means."
Ning Que said: "Where is faith?"
Master Huang Yang said: "Belief itself has no power and needs a specific direction. When countless people's beliefs are concentrated on that direction, the power will be reflected in that direction."
"This is the reason why Buddha strictly ordered his disciples not to set up idols."
Master Huang Yang looked at him and continued: "Your teacher Yan Se once said that everyone's thoughts are actually a talisman, but they are too weak and insignificant to be felt. When everyone writes a talisman at the same time,
This talisman may then appear and even become great."
…
…
Ning Que understood something.
It turns out that it is really possible to find a way to summon human power that can compete with heaven and earth. If he can find that power, he can clear the shocking formation.
He came to the south bank of Yanming Lake, sat among the frost grass, stretched his fingers into the air, and copied a few inscriptions. After he felt calm, he began to write. He began to look for the word.
He has entered the realm of knowing destiny, and the words he writes at will are talismans, and writing is writing talismans. The character he is looking for is actually a talisman.
The sun gradually moves westward, then sets under the city wall, and night falls.
He sat by the lake and continued to write and look for characters and symbols.
A few hundred words.
Thousands of words.
In the end there was only one word left.
That character consists of two straight lines.
It is the only magic talisman he knows: two characters.
He kept writing two characters until he was exhausted. His eyes were bright and dim, then bright and dim again, and finally became numb.
I don't know how long it took. He stopped writing.
He looked at the courtyard on the other side of Yanming Lake in a daze.
At this moment, a snowflake fell and fell on him.
He thought of the snow that year.
Reminds me of the battle on the snowy lake.
Sangsang held a big black umbrella and stood in the wind and snow, singing to the snowy lake.
If Sang Sang is still there, if the big black umbrella is still there, if the iron arrow is still there, he is really confident that even if he cannot break through the blocked Chang'an City, he can still kill that man with the help of the Jingshen Formation.
However, Sangsang was already dead.
The courtyard on the other side of the lake has been without lights for many days.
The people sent by the imperial court to Surabaya reported that the big black horse and carriage had disappeared.
He must find the word that can mobilize the power of the world.
Snowflakes continue to fall.
A few eyelashes fell.
His face was pale, but there was a blush on his cheeks. He looked extremely unhealthy.
His expression was calm, but he was actually extremely anxious and exhausted.
He couldn't find the word, couldn't write the symbol.
Master Yan Se spent his whole life and still couldn't find the talisman, let alone him.
Ning Que sighed, and a white mist appeared.
He raised his finger and continued writing. He continued searching.
He wrote in the white mist, in the falling snow, and on the ground that was gradually covered with snow.
Because of fatigue and nervousness, his hands were shaking more and more seriously.
The two strokes of the second character sometimes become a little skewed.
…
…
It snowed in Chang'an City.
This is the first snow in the eighteenth year of the Apocalypse. The first snow.
The darkness gradually recedes and the morning light gradually arrives.
The streets and eaves tiles in the city are all covered with snow, making them very clean.
The wind came from the north last night and the south of the city was quiet.
Because there was no interference from the cold wind, the southern city wall was covered with a light layer of snow.
It looks like a white curtain.
suddenly.
A footprint appeared in the thin snow on the city wall.
This place is about tens of feet away from the ground. Goshawks can build nests, but humans cannot reach it.
But there is one more footprint.
After a moment.
Hundreds of feet away, between the thin snow on the city wall, there was another footprint.
Immediately afterwards, a pair of footprints appeared behind it.
These two footprints belong to two people respectively.
The eagle, which had endured the winter, was awakened by the sound of footsteps on the city wall.
It looked warily into the distant sky.
The footprints of those two men were clearly on the city wall.
It looked into the sky.
The endless Chang'an City Wall.
The footprints of those two people appeared one after another from time to time.
No one can be seen.
Only footprints can be seen.
It's like the traces left by immortals in the human world.
The footprints gradually reach the south gate.
A touch of green clothes appeared in the lightly falling snowflakes.
The master of Zhishou Temple appears outside the south gate.
A Dao sword was carried behind him.
He stayed awake for seven days and traveled countless miles across mountains and rivers, yet he was still refreshed and refreshed.
Suddenly a wooden stick appeared in the snow.
The stick is very short.
Very hard.
The wooden stick hit the viewer on the back of the head.
The spectator wields his sword.
The sword meets the stick.
There was a loud noise.
The sound is melodious and loud.
Huang Zhongda Lu.
Chang'an City wakes up.
The bells in the city were ringing loudly.
I don't know if I was shaken by the sound of the bell.
He was still shaken by the impact of the sword and the wooden stick.
I was still shocked by that person.
The thin snow covering the more than ten miles long southern city wall fell lightly.
Revealing the black color of the city wall.
There is a lot of snow under the city wall.
Like a fallen curtain, they piled up in one place.
…
…
(I like that last scene very much. If it were a movie, it would be beautiful. Call me on the volume. This volume is almost over. I hope to be able to return to normal as soon as possible. Now I can scold you. It takes six hours to write a chapter.
I also want to scold you.) {PiaoTian Literature www.PiaoTian.com thanks all book friends for their support, your support is our greatest motivation}