Article 319

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One year has passed in the blink of an eye.

On this day, Xue Zhengyong drank the new spring tea and received another letter from Mo Ran.

He finished reading it with a smile and handed the letter to Mrs. Wang. Mrs. Wang looked at it and laughed: "This child's handwriting is getting more and more beautiful."

"Like a person?"

"who?"

Xue Zhengyong drank a cup of tea and found a copy of "Annotations on Ancient Barriers" from the books on his desk: "Look at Yu Heng's, are they seventy-nine similar."

Mrs. Wang held the book and flipped through it, and said in surprise: "It really looks like it."

"When he first came to the top of life and death, he worshiped Yu Heng as his teacher. Yu Heng asked him to read a book first, but he didn't know a few characters. Later, Yu Heng taught him for a long time, and he My own name, then simple, then difficult." Xue Zhengyong shook his head, "He didn't learn it carefully at that time, and he always dealt with it like drawing symbols, but now he is decent."

Mrs. Wang smiled and said: "He should go down the mountain and walk more. I see that he is really calm outside."

Xue Zhengyong also laughed and said: "I wonder what he will look like after traveling for five years. How old should he be then? Twenty-two?"

"twenty two."

"Alas." Xue Zhengyong sighed, seeming to be a little emotional, "I thought Yu Heng would take them until they are twenty years old. God's fate is not as good as man's."

Man's calculation is not as good as God's calculation, and Mo Ran thinks so too.

He traveled all over the world, from the misty and rainy land in the south of the Yangtze River to Dasanguan in the north of Saibei. In the summer, I drank a sip of Yue wine while sitting in the Minhe River; in the winter, I listened to a Qiang flute song around the fire pond in the snow.

After he became emperor in his previous life, the world belonged to him, but he never traveled across thousands of rivers and mountains to see the lights of the fishing boats in the east or the karez stream in the west. He never took a closer look at the dark feet of the porters carrying the load on the stone road. They were chapped and the soles of their feet were as hard as iron. I have never heard the pear orchard child in Weitangzi babbling and raising his voice, his voice reaching into the clouds like cracked silk:

"It turns out that the colorful flowers are blooming everywhere, but they are all left in ruins..."

He is no longer Ta Xianjun, and he will never be Ta Xianjun again in this life. he is--

"Brother." This was the crisp voice of a child. "Brother, can you help me save this little bird? Its wings are broken. I, I don't know what to do."

"Xiao Xianjun." This is the hoarse voice of the old village head of Shijiu Village, "Thank you, thank you very much. If it weren't for you, our village would be full of orphans, old and weak, and the evil spirits would cause trouble, so we would have to leave our hometown. The Immortal Lord is so kind and virtuous, I am so old... I am so old that I will never forget you."

"Good Samaritan." This was the trembling voice of the beggar I met on the road. "Good Samaritan, we two have not had a full meal in many days. Please do me a favor and show mercy..."

The ink burned and closed its eyes.

Opened again.

Because someone called him.

"Master Mo."

He was somewhat stung by this title. He looked up at the dark man who called him this way and felt helpless: "I am not a grandmaster, I am a master. Please don't call me that again."

The man scratched his head honestly: "I'm sorry, everyone in the village calls you that. I know you don't like it, but you can't change it."

Mo Ran has been living in a village on the border of Xiuxianjie these days. A few miles outside this village stands a majestic snow mountain. Snow ghosts often come down from the mountain to cause trouble. They are all little demons with low spiritual power. Some masters have left behind. The Night Warrior Mecha is enough to deal with it. Unfortunately, this small village was too remote and the Night Wandering God did not benefit from it. He had no choice but to follow the map left by his master and try to figure it out.

After many failures, he finally made the first one. The Night Wanderer he made was far less beautiful and less agile than his master, but the wooden man was creaky and still usable.

This novelty made the villagers in these remote villages very happy. They called him Grandmaster Mo one by one, which made Mo Ran feel embarrassed.

But the more embarrassing thing is yet to come.

It was an evening, and the sunset dyed half of the sky red. He came back from studying at Taishan Academy and was walking on the bustling apricot forest path when someone suddenly called out.

"Master Chu!"

Hearing this title, Mo Ran didn't even have time to think, so he immediately turned back, and then he said that it was really funny. There were so many warlocks named Chu in the world, but now he heard that the wind is rain, and he thought it was his master who woke up early.

how can that be possible.

He smiled and shook his head, and was about to turn around when he suddenly heard another shout: "Master Chu!"

"..."

Mo Ran held a stack of books and squinted his eyes to look at the crowd. Suddenly he saw someone waving to him, but unfortunately he was too far away and he couldn't see the person's face clearly. He could only roughly see his clothes and figure. He was a young man in a blue robe, carrying a bow on his back, and followed by a Lang dog.

The man approached quickly, but when Mo Ran and he could see each other's facial features clearly, they were both stunned.

"Who are you……"

"Mo Ran." He reacted before the other person. Holding the book in his arms, it was inconvenient to carry his luggage. He nodded briefly, and his eyes curiously paused on the young man's face for a moment, "I didn't expect to meet Mr. Nangong here, okay. skillful."

It turned out that the person who called him "Master Chu" was Nangong Si, the legitimate son of the Confucian Feng Sect.

Because this guy died early, Mo Ran had never met him in his previous life, but Chu Wanning was different. Chu Wanning was once a guest of Confucianism, and Nangong Si must be familiar with him. Mo Ran looked him up and down, looking at the arrow in Nangong Si's hand.

The bag paused for a while.

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