Chapter 236: [Dragon Blood Mountain] The Circle of Silence

After exiting Dragon Mountain, Mo Ran, like a wooden statue, with her eyes slightly glazed over, walks on alone in silence.

Standing at a fork in the road, he stares in disbelief.

The battle is over, the sun is rising in the east, the sun has washed away the darkness of the night, and only the dew and the scent of grass remain in the woods, like a greasy powder, floating in the morning sun.

He looked back, at the lofty peaks. Then he looked ahead again at the road. Straight ahead was Linling Island, where Xue Meng and his uncle were waiting for him, waiting for an explanation, an answer. But he couldn't go there, he had to go to Dragon Blood Mountain.

Mo Ran knew in his heart that Master Huai Zui knew more than he thought, otherwise he would not have remained so calm when he saw the Fairy Tramper emperor. Perhaps that was why he was more and more at a loss as to what lay ahead of him.

His mind was so confused at the moment that he was in no mood to think, and in the end he was only numbly aware that

He must go, because the Master is there.

Dragon Blood Mountain is located near the Temple of No Mercy. In the early years, monks would occasionally go up to the mountain to meditate and enlighten themselves, but the mountain was often a barrier, and many people said that they had encountered ghosts on the mountain and could not get out after entering.

Mo Ran had travelled all day with his sword and finally arrived at the foot of Dragon Blood Mountain at sunset. He had not eaten or drunk anything all day and was very tired, so when he saw a clear spring flowing from the cypress trees, he went over and took a handful of water to wash his face.

What washed down was first the mud, then the melting blood, before finally revealing his face, reflected in the brimming water.

It was not an ugly face, but Mo Ran stared at it for a moment, disgusted and disgusted, and broke the surface of the water, shattering his reflection, then closed his eyes and rubbed his face in his palms, almost painfully.

Is there any foolproof method in this world that can completely sever one's past from the present is there any sharp tool that can pluck the putrid memories from the mind.

Is there anyone who can save him, who can tell him that you are not Fairy Tramper, you are just Mo Ran, you are just Mo Weiyu.

But when he opened his eyes, the water was calm again, and the man inside was still staring at him with such resentment and despair.

He knew he had no way back.

Get up and go up the hill.

Halfway up the mountain, the fog suddenly rose, so thick that it was impossible to see.

Mo Ran thought it was a ghost at first, but when he sensed it, there was no trace of evil.

It was getting late, the sound of cuckoos crying for blood was occasionally heard in the woods, it was getting cold around, the sun was fading a little and the fields were dark.

"The Master"

His voice was slightly hoarse as he moshed and moved forward.

" Huai Zui "

No one answered him.

But strangely, as he climbed along, almost blind, he was not stopped in any way, the path was so smooth it was creepy, as if someone had laid a trap in the depths of the fog, waiting for him to throw himself into it single-handedly.

"Anyone?"

The fog is gradually dissipating.

The scene in front of him became clearer and clearer, the thick mist ambling down, the mountains, rocks and vines all surfaced before him.

He found himself unaware that he had come to a flat and open area, and when he looked back, the way he had come was still covered by mist, but this was the only area where the grass was soothing and the moon star was sparse.

He stepped on the decaying grass, which was condensed with water and dew, and made his way forward, and then he heard the back of a man.

Mo Ran was stunned for a moment, then ran forward in fear and called out sharply, "Master."

Chu Wanning, with his back to him, is kneeling beside a cave covered by wisteria.

"You, Master."

Suddenly he lost his breath as he saw Chu Wanning turn back to him, his eyelashes wet and his face streaked with tears.

Mo Ran, stunned: "What's wrong with you?"

Chu Wanning did not speak, he had been suppressing himself, from long ago, he was all high and majestic. It was as if, from birth, he had been an elder, an immortal, without youth or weakness.

" Mo Ran "

But this time, with all his strength, he only managed to say two words before a choked sob escaped his lips.

Mo Ran murmured and came forward, went to him, bent down on her knees and embraced him tightly, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

As he said this, he looked down and stroked Chu Wanning's hair. Chu Wanning's body was cool, but now that he had found him and could hold him in his arms, Mo Ran felt hot inside.

Every moment of peace he had was stolen, and every word he spoke to Chu Wanning became a misplaced gift from God, a little more of which he valued too much to take lightly.

"There, there." Clearly so helpless himself, he still held Chu Wanning between his broad, warm chest and soothed, "It's okay, I'm here, I'm here, I'm here."

Mo Ran said and kissed Chu Wanning on the forehead. At that moment, he suddenly realised that Chu Wanning, who was restrained in his arms but still trembling and in tears, with his fingers clutching his lapel, looked like the little brother from Peach Blossom Yard who would never be seen again.

No one is born strong, and Chu Wanning should have been a young man.

Mo Ran's heart fluttered with a vague understanding of what was going on, and he looked over at Master Huai Zui as he embraced the slightly trembling Chu Wanning, kissing him and stroking his hair.

The old monk sat on a huge, cold rock, his brow furrowed, his eyelashes lowered, his eyes half-closed, half-closed, with no light in them, and a begonia flower cupped in his hand, leaning forward slightly, as if to give it to someone. But the person must have refused his kind offer, the flower was already decaying and only a few scattered pieces had yet to wither from the branch.

Huai Zui passed away.

The man who harboured so many myths, so many mysteries, did not have any relief on his face until the last moment.

His look was one of pain.

What is even more unpleasant is that after his death, his face no longer retains the youthful appearance of his thirties; he has become a spindly old monk, and for some reason, his face is being eaten away by a small golden worm at a rate visible to the naked eye.

"This bug."

"It's a righteous worm." Chu Wanning finally spoke, but his voice was terribly hoarse, "Some people who are disgusted with their appearance will make a blood pact with this worm. The worm can change the host's face, and in return, the worm will consume the host's entire body the day they pass away."

Hearing him struggle to maintain a steady tone and speak slowly, Mo Ran could not help but hold him tighter. The man in his arms had probably been kneeling here for a long, long time, and his hands and feet were cold.

From his past life to this one, it was Chu Wanning who was his beacon, his flame, dispelling his darkness and giving him as much warmth as he could muster.

But when Mo Ran held him at the moment, he felt that the person in his arms was made of ice.

Really cold.

He conked out in pain.

"I'm here, I'm here."

"He told me to come to Dragon Blood Mountain a long time ago." Chu Wanning looked exhausted, as if someone had drained all the warmth from his blood and poured infinite pain and suffering into it.

"He knew that I would not speak to him face to face and would not listen to any explanation from him, so he had left me a letter with extremely earnest words, but I was still headstrong and I refused to believe him I second guessed him."

Mo Ran touched his cheek, he had never seen such a Chu Wanning before.

Plus none in previous lives.

He asked, "What is going on?"

But Chu Wanning simply replied vacantly, "I was the one who was suspicious of him."

The man who had always been calm, who had always been sensible, was finally falling apart.

He was like a horned bow whose string had been stretched to the breaking point and snapped. He was shaking in Mo Ran's arms, shaking uncontrollably, so desperate, so pathetic.

Chu Wanning is hunched and huddled, a man who has been tense for half his life, and once he breaks down, the mourning that has been building up is enough to break the bank: "I should have come here a long time ago, if I had listened to him, many things would not have happened, Nangong would not have died, Shi Mei would not have been blind, it would have been too late. "

"Master."

"Not if I'd listened to the words in that letter."

It took Mo Ran a long time to calm him down a little, and after a long time Chu Wanning finally stopped crying, but his eyes were out of focus and Mo Ran squeezed his fingertips but found that they could not be warmed up, just like the slight trembling that would not stop.

"Why I won't trust him again"

Mo Ran listened in silence. In fact, during the journey, because of the Fairy Tramper emperor, Mo Ran had imagined countless scenarios when she and Chu Wanning would meet again, and had thought of many explanations and pleas.

But he found that none of it could be used.

He did not expect to see him again in this situation.

"He also left a scroll of memories" Finally, Chu Wanning slowly quieted down as Mo Ran touched his cheek, which was cold, "Before he left, he always wanted you to come and give it to you himself."

Mo Ran's fingertips stiffened when she heard that it was about her.

Scroll of Memories

What does it say there? What does Master Huai Zui know?

Mo Ran felt his hands start to get cold as well, his cold hairs standing on end, he was cold to the bone.

Chu Wanning said hoarsely, "But he can't wait, his life span is over." He finished, as if some extremely painful sore had been touched, his brow furrowed and he said no more.

He was, by and large, afraid that if he said one more word, he would break down again.

Chu Wanning holds his arm over his eyelids as he calms himself, slowly gathering up the calm, the peace, the coolness, the reliability of his mess. He picks up the pieces and slowly puts them back on himself.

He was not used to being a weakling after all.

Finally, Chu Wanning lifted his moist phoenix eyes, took the scroll from his bosom and handed it to Mo Ran.

"It's got all the secrets he knows."

Mo Ran's voice had an unmistakable tremor: "Did he show it to you too?"

"Seen it."

Mo Ran's heart shuddered.

He looked into Chu Wanning's eyes and for a moment he had an extremely frightening thought.

He felt that Chu Wanning seemed to have it all figured out.

Receiving the scroll with the green jade as its shaft.

But he was suddenly so uncomfortable that he suddenly took Chu Wanning's fingers in his and rubbed them.

" Wangning "

""

"If what that man told you at Dragon Mountain was true, would you hate me?"

Chu Wanning's face was already pale, but now it was completely bloodless, and even his lips were slightly green.

"Will you hate me?"

Mo Ran's grip on his hand was so strong, stubborn, even savage. But very different from that force was the bitter plea beneath his soft lashes.

"Will it?"

Chu Wanning shook his head, not answering as he closed his eyes, "Read the scroll."

The scrolls left behind by Master Huai Zui are very sinister and do not resemble the spells of the mortal world, but are closer to the fantasy world of the Peach Blossom Yard Feathermen.

Mo Ran took another deep look at Chu Wanning before opening the scroll and placing the glowing jade scroll against his brow.

The sight of Dragon Blood Mountain disappears, followed first by a deep, darkness that echoes in Mo Ran's ears as Huai Zui's voice rings out with a bit of contempt.

"Master Chu, Master Mo, I know that my days are numbered, but now that the world is changing and a catastrophe is coming, if I don't do my best to tell you all what I know, so that you can return to the world, I will be ashamed and regretful in purgatory."

The voice paused, then spoke slowly.

"In this scroll, the events of the past are unimaginable, and there are even old monks' past mistakes that cannot be concealed. I know that I have spent half of my life in ignorance, that I have sinned deeply in the past, that I have been stupid and shallow, and that I am narrow-minded. I have been a Huai Zui all my life, and I will not be able to redeem myself, and after I die, I will fall into the infernal hell and never be reborn. I hope that after reading this, you will not be disgusted with the old monk and think that he is worse than a beast."

Mo Ran blinked as a faint light flickered in front of him, and as far as he could see, there were broken walls, old trees and dim crows, and flocks of birds pecking at their eyes and gutting them.

He was slightly stunned, inexplicably feeling that the scene was very familiar, but could not recall it at once.

It was not until the city gates were dusty that a group of men came galloping in, strangling their forehead rings, carrying feathered arrows and riding thin horses. One of the young men snapped at the reins and rolled off his horse, lunging towards a corpse at the city gate, shouting, "Father!"

Mo Ran was shocked and felt a chill run down her back.

This is

Peach Blossom Yard Feathermen Illusion

This is the ancient Lin'an in the midst of war