Chapter 166: Madam Yung, respected by the Master

It is Jin Chengchi, and the inscriptions on the poolside, 'A difficult road to walk on', are strong, with bright red lettering.

There are still only two living people in the scene, Nan Gongliu and Xu Shuanglin, and that's because there are countless dead people lying around on the floor.

Or, one might say, some dead augurs.

"Hurry up, if we keep the road closed to other monks, I'm afraid we'll arouse suspicion."

"It's almost done." Xu Shuanglin stuffed a black piece into the mouth of one of the jiaozi and then recited a silent incantation. The jiaozi staggered up from the ground, saluted the two of them and leapt back into the Jin Chengchi where the ice was floating. Xu Shuanglin said, "I am not yet proficient in this forbidden technique, but when I am more proficient, I will not need to feed them the pieces one by one, just point them in the air and they will follow my orders.

"So great."

"How else can you call it a forbidden art. I've seen people" Xu Shuanglin suddenly stopped talking and laughed, "I mean, I've seen books about people who can retain the full consciousness of living beings while making them do their bidding willingly, that's impressive. At this level I can only manipulate the physical body, not the spirit, not even close."

Nan Gongliu nodded, "You don't have to be too good at cultivating, it's never good to draw attention to yourself."

"Your Holiness says so."

"The only way to break my curse is to open the gates of the infernal hell, and to do that, you need all five elements of spiritual power. It's not easy to find the essence of spiritual bodies in this world, we can't just go from sect to sect to measure the past, but you have the ability to change Jin Chengchi to heaven and earth, those cultivators who come to seek the sword are what spiritual cores, all will honestly inform you, it's really a good thing to sit back and enjoy the benefits."

As he spoke, he took an orange from the pouch of the horse next to him, peeled it and ate it while exclaiming, " Shuanglin, those elves of Jin Chengchi are no match for you, you are really something."

Xu Shuanglin smiled and said, "Although Jin Chengchi is an ancient relic, after hundreds of millions of years, the divine power of Gouchen Shanggong has already been reduced to a minimum, otherwise, with my ability, I would not have been able to take advantage of the situation. You are too kind, Your Majesty."

Nan Gongliu laughed out loud: "Tell me how you want me to reward you"

"I have nothing to ask for."

"Hey, no, one has to be said."

"Then your Holiness reward me with half an orange to eat."

Nan Gongliu was stunned, then laughed, "What's this," but peeled the orange and handed it to Xu Shuanglin, "You can have the whole thing."

"Half is fine." Xu Shuanglin smiled lightly, "I don't want much either."

"You're a strange one. Half is half, then."

Nan Gongliu said, handing over the flesh of the orange. Xu Shuanglin's finger had blood on the tip, so it was not convenient to take it, so he took it directly from Nan Gongliu's finger and ate it, charmingly saying, "Sweet and juicy, it tastes good."

For a moment, Xu Shuanglin's smile seemed a little creepy in the daylight, some of the orange juice blotting out and resting on the corner of his mouth, which he licked off with his tongue out, in a viper-like gesture.

Nan Gongliu was suddenly a little frightened and immediately withdrew her hand, but then a chagrined and confused look came over her face, as if she didn't understand what she was afraid of.

Xu Shuanglin suddenly said, "Look at that."

"What?" Nan Gongliu looked at it, and after a moment, his eyes suddenly widened, and an extremely complicated look appeared on his slightly chubby face, "It's it."

"Piranha." Xu Shuanglin picked up the dead pomfret and dropped it on the gravelly shoal, leaning down to examine it. The lion-faced, fish-bodied creature bared its teeth, revealing blood-stained canines, and its grey-black eyes protruded with a miserable lack of light inside.

Xu Shuanglin dipped a bit of his blood and smelled it, and couldn't help but subconsciously rub his bare feet and frown, "Ew, that stinks."

He stood up and kicked the pompano: "This should be one of the few evil beasts within the Golden City Pond. Although the ones Gouchen left in the pond to guard Shenwu back then were all swarthy beasts, a long time is long enough to change many things; a harsh ghost can transcend and a god can fall, let alone a mere divine beast."

Nan Gongliu murmured, "It was the one who asked me to sacrifice Rong Yan's heart back then."

The crowd outside the illusion was horrified at the words, and apart from Chu Wanning, who already knew the truth, the rest were even more surprised than before: "What?"

" Rong Yan that's that's that"

Some chanted, others already looked back at Nangong Si with dismay and pity: "That's his."

Nangong Si was stunned, then his body began to tremble, he staggered backwards and fell to his knees, his face whiter than death, more ghastly than a ghost.

"Mother no it can't be impossible."

Ye Wangxi, holding back tears, said: " Si "

"Nangong Si's handsome face was twisted with fear and anger, grief and horror, his features were almost dislocated, he couldn't hear anyone, he couldn't hear anything anymore, "It's impossible, my mother died when she killed the beast. My mother died while killing a demonic beast.

Immediately afterwards he jolted and muttered, "No more heart through the heart"

He did not cry, his eyes rolled open and his eyes were wide, he could not stop repeating hoarsely, from murmuring to whispering, from whispering to hissing, from hissing to a frantic howl, "Through the heart through the heart"

Memories flash back with a jolt.

He was still very young when his parents set off with a group of people on a sword quest to Jin Chengchi. He remembers vividly that on the first night he and Nao Baijin stayed out late in the woods in the back of the mountain because they were playful, and sneaked back into the house late into the night to try to load up on memorisation, unaware that his mother had come looking for him after dinner to give him a newly embroidered cloth arrow bag, but after searching around and not seeing anyone at the Prince's residence, he knew he had sneaked out again.

Rong Yan is a very cold woman who is never as close to Nangong Si as her mother would normally be. When she came to Nangong Si's bedroom again, he was pretending to hold up a scroll of the Promised Land and shaking his head as he recited it. Rong Yan then asked him to stop and asked him, "What have you been doing since dinner?

Nangong Si, unaware that Rong Yan had already noticed him touching the fish, put down his book, scratched his head and smiled brightly, "Mother, I'm, I'm memorising my book."

"Always on your back?"

The child, afraid of being chastised, stammered for a while but still nodded, "Mmmmmmmmmm"

Rong Yan lifted his neck slightly, raised his chin, and looked down with a sharp, cold look in his eyes: "Lie."

Nangong Si was startled and turned red: "I didn't."

Rong Yan did not say much, but took his bamboo slip, closed it and asked, "What is the previous sentence, "The world is wrong without adding discouragement"?

"And and lift up the world and"

"Rong Yan's eyebrows knitted together and she slammed the bamboo book on the desk, saying sternly, "Nangong Si, how did I teach you to play outside so late at night? "

"Mother."

"Don't you shout at me."

When Nangong Si saw that she was annoyed, he panicked, more in awe of his mother, who was always in and out of the military and awe-inspiring, than his affable father.

"You're so unlikeable."

The little child could not help but redden her eyes, and fearing that she would scold her again, she argued with a trace of luck, "I... I didn't come back too late, I just played outside for a little while after dinner."

Rong Yan stared at him, her mother, who had not been so angry, growing frustrated and angry at her son's painstakingly sophomoric arguments.

"I'll be back as soon as it's dark."

"Snap."

A loud slap interrupted Nangong Si's sentence.

Rong Yan's chest rose and fell, still maintaining the posture of raising his hand, and he shouted in anger: " Nangong Si, greed, grievance, deceit, murder, prostitution, plunder, is my Confucianism, where have you learnt this saying that a gentleman should not do, do you want to continue lying to your mother?"

Nangong Si was so dazed by her beating that it took him a while to come back to his senses, and his eyes filled with tears. Gongliu.

"Stop right there."

Rong Yan yanked him to his feet, her face extremely pale as she tapped a bright red cardamom finger against the tip of her son's nose, anger welling up in her eyes.

"What do you want your father to do? Your father is always obsequious and obsequious, he is a waste of time. Do you want to learn from him? Sit down."

"I don't want to I don't want to"

Rong Yan gritted her teeth and dragged the struggling Nangong Si back to his seat, but as soon as she let go, Nangong Si tried to run away again, and finally Rong Yan had to raise her hand and brought down a ban on him, binding him completely. Nangong Si fell to his knees, humiliated and exasperated, panting like a caged animal.

"You let go of me I don't want you like this mother you you never speak to me properly you never care about me all you do is scold me all you do is scold me"

Rong Yan's face turned red and white, his lips trembled slightly, and he said half-heartedly, "Stay in the house and recite the whole story of the Journey to Freedom. If you're not good enough, I'll"

She was a bit bewildered at the end of her speech, just as she did not know that she had always had an iron hand and a fierce temperament, even in the face of her cowardly husband, she was able to reprimand him in public and give him a look of colour without any problem.

But Nangong Si, what could she do?

She stood there for a moment, saddened and resentful, sad and helpless, and when her anger attacked her, she coughed violently, and, being a person with an old disease, she choked out a mouthful of bruised blood.

"Nangong Si, you are still young, and you can't always see what is right and wrong in this world with just one pair of eyes. Sometimes those who treat you with tolerance may not expect you to be good, and those who treat you harshly may not expect you to be bad. Your father is weak and incompetent, not to mention," she paused and did not go on immediately, deliberating for a moment before dropping the words and saying instead, "Mother does not want you to become a cultivator like him or a master like him in the future."

Nangong Si bites his lip and says nothing.

"But how can you learn to lie and cheat? The Confucianism School has been a glorious foundation for over a hundred years, and it is only because it has always been a gentleman that it has been able to stand on top of the immortals. Your father never taught you these truths seriously, but I am your mother, so if he doesn't tell you, I will repeat them to you, one at a time, in my ear. Even if you don't listen, even if you think I am harsh, even if you hate me."

"Daddy doesn't talk to me, that's because he treats me like Nangong Si, he makes me happy, he's happy, you" Nangong Si said angrily, "what mother, you only treat me like a young master of Confucianism School, the When I'm with you, I'm not half as good as you say."

Rong Yan was so annoyed that an unnatural flush rose to her snow-white cheeks. She covered her face with her handkerchief and coughed again, and then gasped for breath for half a day before she said sternly.

"Good. If you don't listen, I'll keep telling you until you understand one day."

""The child was so stubborn that he simply took his hands and covered his ears.

Rong Yan sat back in her chair and slowly calmed down, but her heart still throbbed with pain. She remembered the wounds she had received in her early years when she was fighting demons, and although she was on daily medication, she was now sicker and sicker, and when she raised her eyes to see her child's disobedient face under the candlelight, she could not help but close her eyes.

After a long time, she said in a slightly softer tone, "Nangong Si, I cannot stay with you for the rest of your life. There will come a time when I can no longer keep an eye on you, when I can no longer warn you, and I only hope that you yourself will understand in the future"

Suddenly she said no more.

For she saw Nangong Si crouched on the floor, her tiny body curled into a ball, shrinking and crying within the forbidden spell she had laid on her, her child, the ever cheerful, cheerful and bright Nangong Si, choking back tears at her scolding.

Rong Yan was stunned for a long time, slowly stood up, walked to the forbidden boundary, raised his hand, wanted to untie it, wanted to lean down and pick it up, caress his red and swollen cheek, kissed his forehead.

But she endured, and she eventually remained ruthlessly standing.

She slowly finished the second half of her sentence, "You yourself must know that greed and spite and deceit and murder and plunder are seven things that I, Confucianism, the gentleman, must not do."

"I don't understand, I don't want to understand, I I I" Nangong Si lifted her teary eyes and cried out towards her mother outside the forbidden spell, "I hate you I don't have a Mother like you "

""

In that moment, outside the forbidden boundary, Rong Yan's face was so pale, his face, which had always been cold and resolute, seemed to be heartbroken.

That face, which had appeared in Nangong Si's sleep many times over the past twenty years, woke up on a pillow already wet, like a poisonous scorpion, waving its cheeks and stabbing its vicious juices hard into his mother's heart.

It hurts, it really hurts.

It will never be eased after a lifetime, never reconciled with itself.

On the third day, Rong Yan did not come to see him at the residence, but had his maid bring him an embroidered camellia capsule and a letter.

She only said that she knew that Nangong Si had recently taken up martial arts and was fond of bows and arrows, so she had embroidered a backpack for him to take with him. She also said that she was going to Jin Chengchi with his father, and that when she returned, she would give him another lesson on how to get away with it.

Where is he?

How he did it

He was still angry, he was resentful, he took a knife and cut his mother's sewn arrow capsule into several pieces, he threw her letters into the fire and burnt them to ashes, he tore up the getaway on the case in the midst of that fragmented determination the young child found so painful.

He got back at her.

He hates her.

He would show her that he would never listen to such a bad mother's teachings, that he would never compromise, that he

He bared his teeth with the utmost malice; he had his heart set on building the walls high.

He waited for his mother to bow down to him and confess her fault, or perhaps then he was just trying to get a soft word and a hug from his mother in return for all his pitying malice.

But he didn't wait for anything.

Confession of fault or hug, remorse or tenderness.

He waited in awe, waiting to declare war on the woman again, and then

He waited for her bones.

" Confucianism School Master Nightwood was attacked and his wife died with her body through her heart."

When the bier returned, Nangong Si stood dumbfounded by the Confucianism School's lofty tower, white silk and paper money scattered all over the floor. At this time the first son had to kneel down and cry bitterly, grabbing the ground with his head, to welcome his mother's spirit back.

But Nangong Si couldn't cry out.

He felt so absurd, so false, as if it were not real. The sun shone on the ground in a blinding white light, and he was dizzy and sick to his stomach.

Not really.

Not really

If it were true, what would he do? How could he accept that in this life, separated from the rest of his life, her last words of advice to him would be, "I Confucianism a gentleman should not do anything to covet grievances, deceive, kill, prostitute, steal or plunder."

And what was his answer to her

He didn't want to remember, but it was the day he hated so deeply, shouted so bitterly, and his mother's face stung so sadly outside the boundary.

pain

It really hurts.

He said that the last words he said to his mother in his life he said were

I hate you.

I don't have a Mother like you.

When the coffin arrived, the elders broke the porcelain basin, a thousand people knelt and wept, the father was already sobbing beside the coffin, and Nangong Si just stood there, clutching in his hand the arrow capsule of camellias that he had cut up.

Bright red petals, goose yellow stamens, covered in snow and growing proudly, as if her warm fingertips had just touched the silk and opened the beautiful purple and red flowers. I don't know if she had a premonition before she died, or if it was just a coincidence, but she embroidered it so carefully that the flowers came to life, as if she wanted to embroider all her unspoken love, all her words and wishes for the rest of her life, into the stitches and stitches, locked up in this little bag of cloth and arrows.

Nangong Si clutches it tightly.

It was the last thing that his mother, his Mother, had left him in this life.