Chapter 105: The Human Soul of the Master

A pair of people with brightly lit flowers.

It was no longer at Mengpo Court, Chu Wanning had arrived at Mo Ran's bedchamber. He could not see his way clearly, so Mo Ran took him by the hand and led him along.

Chu Wanning's second soul had been lost, and he did not know who he was, nor did he know who the person he was interlocking his fingers with was.

Chu Wanning puts down the bowl of codpiece. Fumbling around, he came to the bedside and asked softly

" Mo Ran is still asleep"

""

When Chu Wanning saw no response, he assumed that Mo Ran was indeed still asleep and sighed, seemingly in frustration.

Mo Ran, who could not bear it, but was afraid he would leave again, sat down on the edge of the bed and said, "Master, I am awake."

When she heard him call to her, Chu Wanning's brow twitched slightly, then she gave a "hmm" and hesitated, not speaking again.

Mo Ran knew he was thin-skinned and if he thought Shi Mei was there, he would have to leave again before he could say a few words, so he picked up a hair button on the table and hit the door in the air, making a motion for Shi Mei to cover the door and leave, and then said, "Why is your master here?

As it happens, Chu Wanning, half-soul, is much more deceptive than usual, and after a moment's daze he says, " Shi Mingjing brought me here, he's gone."

"Gone."

"Hmm."

After a moment's silence, Chu Wanning finally said, "The wound on your back."

"The injury on my back is not my fault, Master." Mo Ran said softly, "I was the one who broke the precious herbs, so your master should have punished me."

Not expecting him to say that, Chu Wanning was stunned for a moment, then two soft curtains rustled and she sighed, "Does it still hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt anymore."

Chu Wanning raised his hand, cold fingertips groping, touching his Mo Ran's cheek for a long time: "I'm sorry, you mustn't hold a grudge against your master."

Back then, he could never have said such soft words, but after his death, his soul was floating in the underworld, and when he looked back, he felt that he had no regrets about the rest of his life, except that he had been too unkind to his disciple. So, when he was given the opportunity to recreate his old memories, the words that he had been unable to say, came out naturally and softly.

Mo Ran's heart felt like a warm spring had flowed through it, and all the remaining hatred, old wounds, and resentment that had been left since his rebirth had been shattered into pieces, and were now washed away in this sincere apology, leaving nothing left.

As he gazed at his master's face in the light of the spirit guide, the blood seemed to disappear, and his pale face seemed to be alive again. He seemed to see again, through time that had never returned, the soft face of Chu Wanning when he first met him in life.

Mo Ran couldn't help but raise her hand, warming it over his cold one.

"I don't hate you." He said, "Master, you have treated me well. I don't hate you."

Chu Wanning looks away for a moment, then suddenly smiles.

Even when he was dead, even when his face was stained and dirty, he smiled as if a fountain of ice was beginning to unravel and the room was filled with spring, his eyes were closed but there seemed to be pearls glittering between his lashes. It was a smile that had let go of a long-cherished wish after death, a smile that was as brilliant as it could be. It was like the most luxuriant and stable of begonias in bloom, the tops of its branches and trees were solemnly and discreetly adorned with millions of gentle and thin colours, radiant and fragrant, cloaking the leaves like stars.

Mo Ran can't help but stare in awe

It was the first time in his two lives that he had seen Chu Wanning look so relaxed and bright. Mo Ran, clumsily, suddenly thought of "smiling like a flower", but thought it inappropriate, and then thought of "smiling like a woman", but thought it even more ridiculous.

In the end, he couldn't think of a single word to describe the moment he saw.

Just know repeatedly exclaims that it looks good.

Such a good looking person, how come I never noticed it before

Blessed to the core, Mo Ran suddenly whispered, "Master, there is something I want to tell you."

"Hmm."

"That begonia of Madam Wang's, which I did not know was so valuable, was plucked that day to give to you."

Chu Wanning seemed a little surprised. Mo Ran's voice lightened, a little blushing, even a little isolated, as she repeated, "Yes is for you."

"What are you doing folding flowers for me?"

Mo Ran's face reddened: "I don't know, I just... I think it's nice. I..."

He didn't say any more, but he was vaguely surprised that he still remembered how he felt when he picked flowers for Chu Wanning so long ago

Chu Wanning is as gentle as a cat without its nails, leaving only a tame, soft skinned belly and round, full paw prints.

He stroked Mo Ran's head and laughed, "How silly."

"Mmm." Mo Ran's eyes suddenly warmed up and she looked up at him, sniffling, "That's silly."

"Next time don't do it again."

"Next time it won't happen again."

Mo Ran thought about it and recalled that in his previous life, after he had given up on himself, he had gone around committing crimes and bullying men and women, making Chu Wanning very angry, and in the end, when his master was discouraged, he threw him the sentence that he had hated all his life: "His character is bad, and his quality is difficult to cut. He said, "Master, I promise you that I will not teach you disappointment again. Be good, not bad."

He did not read much and could not make too many powerful promises, but he felt a surge of blood in his chest, and the simple and innocent soul of his youth seemed to have finally awakened from its slumber.

"Master, I am so stupid that it has taken me a long time to realize that you have treated me well."

His eyes burned as he rose from the bed and knelt before Chu Wanning, kowtowing long and hard.

When he raised it again, the youth's brow was solemn and dignified to the extreme.

"From now on, Mo Ran won't teach you to be ashamed anymore."

Chu Wanning listens quietly, shaking his head and smiling every now and then. Chu Wanning listens quietly, shaking his head and smiling every now and then. Before we know it, the white of the fish's belly is fading outside the window, as if the heavy ink of Huizhou is being diluted.

The long night will be central.

Master Huai Zui stood by the stone bridge, the hem of his monk's garment wet from the rushing water, but he was unaware of it and waited in silence.

A rising sun slowly rises in the east, and a million rays of light penetrate the forest and shine through the leaves on the ever-flowing waters of the Yellow Spring. In an instant the river turns golden, the waves are like the scales of a dragon, and the waves glisten with light and colour.

He is now in the realm of nothingness and can only be seen by those who have found the remnants of Chu Wanning's soul. Shi Mei and Xue Meng had both come, but did not see the old monk by the river. He does not seem to be in a hurry, but the rosary he is plucking in his hands is getting faster and faster, more and more urgent.

"Wow."

Suddenly, the rosary that had been coiled for countless rounds scattered, and the star-moon bodhi fell like rain, crackling and scattering all over the ground.

Huai Zui's eyes opened suddenly, lips pursed, colour lost.

Such an ominous sign. He rubbed his hands over the broken threads of the Buddhist beads, watching the beads in the river splash onto the shore, and the beads on the shore roll into the river for a long time, his face growing pale.

"The Master"

Suddenly someone called out to him in this way.

"The Master"

Tweedy and enthusiastic.

Huai Zui immediately followed the sound and saw Mo Ran running from afar, carrying a spirit guide lamp with a mixture of golden and red light.

The morning sun is dazzling, but the young man's eyes are brighter than the first sun, crystal-like. He runs up to Huai Zui, his cheeks slightly flushed, panting slightly, but unable to contain his excitement.

"Found it." Mo Ran brushed his hair away from his forehead and tucked the lantern containing Chu Wanning's soul tightly in his arms, "He didn't refuse to see me, he's here." He pointed to the lantern in his arms, but seemed a little reluctant to give it to Huai Zui, hesitating for a moment before handing it to him, but then withdrawing it within inches.

Huai Zui sighed with inscrutable relief, looked him up and down, and said with amusement, "Since you found him, you can just hold him, you don't have to give him to me."

Mo Ran then carefully continued to hold it.

Huai Zui picks up a mango stick leaning against a tree and flicks it into the river, and a bamboo raft with a turquoise body and a white thread tied to its head appears out of nowhere.

"There is no time to lose, so please let the monk get on board."

It is common knowledge that the spring at the top of death and life leads to the ghost world, but because of the boundary that blocks it, it is not true that you can successfully follow the river to the underworld.

Master Huai Zui's bamboo raft was enchanted with a charm that allowed it to pass through yin and yang, so the boat travelled a thousand miles and Mo Ran was alone on it for half a day before it came to a waterfall.

Yellow Springs Falls.

The waterfall is boundless, boundless and vast. A curtain of pearls flows straight down, and the water splashes like thin smoke.

Before Mo Ran could even look, the raft was carrying him straight down towards the prehistoric curtain of water that was as huge as a beast. Before he could react, a powerful column of water seemed to tear through the flesh and blood of the living like a million sharp knives.

"Master."

In the midst of the crisis, Mo Ran's only concern was for the lamp in his arms, which he held tightly in his arms and never let go of, despite the swirling currents and the darkness of the sky.

After an unknown amount of time, the deafening sound of the cascading waterfall suddenly disappeared.

The torrential rain also suddenly receded.

Mo Ran slowly opened his eyes and was relieved to see that the spirit-led lamp was safe and sound. When he looked up, he was shocked speechless by the sight before him.

The waterfall that crossed the two worlds of yin and yang is gone, and a bamboo raft drifts on a vast and tranquil lake, which is deep blue, flowing with dots of starlight, and in which countless faint spirits swim and weave as if they were schools of fish. The reeds on both sides of the shore were thick with reeds, and lingering reeds with a hazy glow floated in all directions.

At the left and right ends, deep in the reeds, a man and a woman sang dreamily, seemingly mournful and serene.

"My body fell into the thunder abyss, and my limbs were reduced to mud and paste. My skull fell into the sky, and my hair was crushed into dust. My heart was eaten by red ants. They pecked at my belly, and the vulture was at a loss, but only the soul came back."

The blue waters of the Yellow Springs flow eastward, and the various things before them must not be pursued.

Mo Ran floated on the raft for another long time when suddenly a pagoda towering into the dark sky appeared in the heavy night air.

As he got closer, he saw that the pagoda was huge and magnificent. But in the smallest detail, it was a ghostly work of art, flying with gold and colour. It was like an evil beast covered in beeswax beads, gold and jade, brilliant but sinister, crouching in the darkness of the night, opening its foul and bloody mouth, waiting for countless lonely souls from the past and present to be sent into its bowels.

When you get closer, you can see that the corner tower is hideous, like a fang piercing the sun, and the head of the beast is majestic, as if it is listening to the world's grievances.

Closer still. The remnants of Chu Wanning seem to feel uneasy, the golden glow of the lantern wavering slightly in and out of existence.

"It's okay." Mo Ran sensed his unease and hugged the lamp, her lips close to the paper, whispering reassuringly, sending more of her own psychic energy in to keep him company.

"Don't be afraid, Master, I'm here."

The lights tremble lightly, and after a few moments, they return to silence.

Mo Ran lowered her deep lashes, glanced into the lamp and couldn't help but smile, reaching out and touching the edge of the lamp before hugging it even tighter.

In the darkness of the night, the three words "Ghost Gate" are so strong and bright that they seem to have just been dipped in the blood of a living person.

The raft docked, and Mo Ran stepped on the yellow road where even the mud smelled of blood.

As he walked on, there were more and more people around him, men and women, old and young, and corpse babies who had died shortly after birth, wailing and crying as they all drifted deeper and deeper into hell.

No matter how many coffers one brings with one to be buried.

By this time, at this place. It's a road that is all but hard and alone by itself.

Mo Ran follows the bustling stream of souls to the entrance of the ghost world.

There sat a man with a fan in his hand, dressed like a soldier, whose stomach had been slit open when he died, so that his intestines came out from time to time.

The soldier at the gate then impatiently stabbed himself back in the belly with the handle of his fan and raised his eyes to lazily question the newly dead ghost.

"What's the name?"

"Sun Erwu."

"How did it die?"

"I, I am dying of old age."

The gatekeeper then took a large stamp and carelessly stamped "Old Death" on the body sticker of the ghost world and handed it to Sun Erwu: "Don't lose it, if you lose it, you have to go to the 17th Hall to get a replacement.

Sun Erwu is nervous, probably every person who just died, spare him how heroic and pepsi in life, will be nervous. "Then I, do I have to go to the trial ah I am a good person, before I was born even the chicken has been stupid, I just fragrant blind cup can not steal a good fetus, at least give me money cur on a wife"

The old man ranted on and on, anxiously.

There are so many souls in the ghost world that they have to wait for eight or ten years to be reincarnated, so you can stay in the ghost world until it is your turn. When your turn comes, you can tell the judge whether you killed a chicken or married a daughter-in-law in your lifetime. Next."

Sun Erwu was stunned, stumbling and stammering with a country accent, "Ten years and eight years"

Mo Ran was amazed to hear from a short distance away, "What's taking so long to be tried and reincarnated?"

"Of course, but if it's a great sin, or a soul that's not quite right, that's a different matter." The gatekeeper heard this and smiled wistfully, and when he did, his intestines came out again and he shoved it back in, "Those who enter the eighteenth level of purgatory never need to wait long."

Mo Ran :""

Sun Erwu, a two-five-eyed man, wanted to ask more questions, but the officer's patience seemed to have reached its end, and he couldn't stop waving his hand, "Go away, go away, soul go. Everyone is in a hurry to be reincarnated, so don't block the way, you old man, next one, next one."

Sun Erwu was driven far away by his bushy fan.

The next one was a beautiful woman, her face was still pretty with powder, and as soon as she opened her mouth, her eyes showed a certain self-possession and style unique to her profession, and she softly said, "Sir, I, Jin Hua'er, was killed by a bully."

Each one has his own way of dying, and each one has his own way of thinking.

All the chaos of life is precipitated here. There is nothing more lively, nothing more mixed up than this. But Mo Ran only clutches the lamp in her arms.

He owed it to his master, beside which he cared for nothing.

He just had to find the remaining section of his master's lone soul.

"Name"

The gatekeeper yawned and looked up at Mo Ran.

Mo Ran was about to speak when the guard suddenly flinched, as if sensing that something was wrong with the man, and suddenly stood up, staring him in the face.

""

Mo Ran secretly said it was not good, not to mention that he was a man who had died once and did not know if his soul was odd, and even if it wasn't, it was well worth interrogating him for holding the remnants of another person's soul in his arms. But there was no second entrance to the ghost world, and this was destined to be an escape.

So it was only a matter of looking hard at the guard.

The guards narrowed their eyes.

Mo Ran feigned composure and announced himself, " Mo Ran ."

The guards don't say a word.

Mo Ran's heart was beating like a drum, but his face was unmoving: "I died because I had gone off the rails. Please send me a sticker for my body."