drunk

"Cease fire, I'm so tired." The old man held his waist and gasped.

"It's all gone." He looked at the mess on the ground and said angrily, "It's been piling up all afternoon, and now it's almost dark."

"Nothing." Cong Mo patted his shoulder, "Let's build another one together, three of us."

"Then... let's name that snowman Leng Can." Li quickly became happy, "It's like my junior brother is still here, with the four of us together."

Cong Mo agreed, "Okay."

"No, my waist really can't take it anymore." The old man slumped down on the steps. "I'll watch you."

She made a face at him, "Master is an old man."

Cong Mo followed him and corrected him quietly, "Maybe it's laziness."

An old man said: "..."

When he can't hear?

After they finished building the snowman, it was completely dark. Qi pulled Cong Mo to write on the snowman's belly, "You write Leng Can, and I'll write Tiantian Kai Xin, just as if we were wishing you, my junior brother, to be happy every day."

Cong Mo nodded, "Yeah."

Seeing that the snow was about to get heavier, an old man in the house waved at them with a pot of hot tea in his hand, "Come in quickly, drink something hot to warm yourself up, the snow is getting heavier."

"Really, the snow is getting heavier." Looking at the snowflakes falling on his shoulders, he made the final stroke, "Junior Sister, let's go in quickly."

"You go first, I haven't finished writing yet." Cong Mo pushed the paper and said, "Almost."

"Okay, then hurry up." He was indeed a little cold, so he ran into the house, "I'm coming!"

She wrote the word "Leng Can" very carefully. After finishing the strokes, she looked at the two words, touched them with her fingers, and gently stroked them. "I wonder what Xiao Can is doing now. Is he happy?"

"Cong Mo! Come in quickly, or you will be drowned by the snow!" the old man urged her.

"Okay." Cong Mo took a last reluctant look at the two words and turned to go into the house.

It was too cold today, and counting the remaining ingredients in the kitchen, the three of them decided to have a hot pot meal in the house.

"This is what my junior brother taught us to make." He mixed the seasoning and took a big bite of the meat. "It smells good."

The old man agreed, "I must admit, this is indeed an excellent invention. In such a cold weather, eating this can be considered a wonderful thing."

"Cold outside, warm inside." Cong Mo briefly commented on the current scene, "Hot pot, hot tea."

"Master." Cong Mo's words reminded him. He whispered mysteriously into the old man's ear, "Did you hide any wine?"

"Nonsense." The old man rolled his eyes. "How can I hide wine? Who do you think I am?"

Yu was unconvinced. "In such weather, it would be wonderful to drink a pot of hot wine. My junior brother said that people in the human world do that, and I don't believe you don't have any hidden wine."

"How do you know, bah... you little kid, I..."

"We're already halfway through the meal. It would be a waste to serve more wine. Warming up the wine would also take time, which is really troublesome." Cong Mo looked at the two of them. "We'll have plenty of opportunities to eat hot pot in the future. There's still time to drink more."

"That's right." He glanced at the old man with disdain, "I won't reason with a stingy master."

"You have no respect for your elders." Seeing his stubbornness, the old man was so angry that he took away most of the remaining meat with a chopstick, dipped it in the seasoning and stuffed it into his mouth. The burn made him grimace and said, "I won't give it to you."

"Master, why are you like this..." Yi stood up and quickly scooped up half of the remaining meat, "Junior sister, eat quickly, Master will finish it all in a moment."

"..." Cong Mo slowly left his seat and dug out a bag from under a nearby cabinet. "There's still a bag of meat left here. Why are you trying to snatch it?"

Mouth full of: "..."

The old man, whose tongue was blistered from burning, said: "..."

By the time they finished eating, the snow on the ground had reached their ankles. Feeling cold, he was afraid of catching a cold, so he went back to the house to take a hot bath to warm up. Cong Mo and the old man Qingyi were responsible for cleaning up the remaining mess.

"Cong Mo, it's been a day, and I still feel something is wrong." The old man placed the porcelain bowl in his hand. "That day in the demon world, you lied to me."

"How do I say it?" Cong Mo wiped the table slowly. "Master, I have no reason to lie to you."

"There's a reason." The old man washed his hands and turned to look at her busy figure. "If you were the only sacrifice needed to bring peace to the world, you wouldn't tell us."

"How could there be such a unique method in the world, specially tailored for me?" Cong Mo scooped a spoonful of water to wash the cloth. "Master, you must have read too many storybooks. If you told me this joke today, if you really agreed to it and drank some wine, who knows what even stranger questions you would ask."

"Don't change the subject." The old man grabbed her wrist and said, "Cong Mo, tell me the truth. What did you find in the forest of the demon world that day?"

"I didn't find anything." Cong Mo shook off his hand, and the water droplets on his hand splashed on the two of them. "Master, I've said so much, but you still don't believe me."

"How can I believe you? It would be very strange for a forest to appear there out of nowhere, wouldn't it? I..."

"Master," Cong Mo called out to him, "the Demon Realm is a place we don't understand. I think the concentration of demonic energy in the Demon Realm is high enough for them to survive. It's probably because most of the demonic energy has been channeled into that forest, which has become a storage jar for it, just like a jar for preserved fruit to prevent it from spoiling. That's why there's so much demonic energy there, and it's unbearable for the body to enter. And as for the rumors about monsters in there, I really didn't find anything."

The old man looked at her, his pupils trembling, as if he wanted to find a flaw in her words, to find the truth, but Cong Mo's face was expressionless, and there was nothing in his pupils. He couldn't tell, "I was anxious, I... I thought too much."

"I've been so tired lately. Let's go back and rest after we finish packing."

"Um."

When she returned to the house and was alone, Cong Mo dared to breathe hard. She was really not good at lying. These few words had almost consumed half of her strength. She quickly sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of tea to moisten her throat. After resting for a while, she took out the notebook and pen and ink hidden under the quilt and spread it out. There were several special blank talisman papers in the notebook. Cong Mo extinguished the jade lamp, lit the candle, and ground the black ink under the dim light.

The candle was extinguished at midnight.

The snow kept falling until the morning of the next day. The snow piled up to the calves, making it really difficult to walk. The snowman they made yesterday had changed from two balls to one big fat ball, and the original shape was no longer recognizable. After lunch, the three of them started to sweep the snow. They worked for the whole afternoon and it was dark when they finally cleared a passable path.

"I didn't realize Wuqing Mountain was that big." He wiped the sweat off his face.

"There's a way to get through." The old man was so tired that his whole body ached. Before he was injured, he didn't think his body was so fragile. "I'll do the rest tomorrow. When will my body recover?"

"It'll take at least three or four days." Cong Mo said, "Let's have dinner. I'm hungry."

"Okay." He nodded. "It's getting late. Let's make something simple today to fill our stomachs."

"I agree." The old man held his stomach, "I'm starving."

It took less than an hour from the beginning to the end of the meal, but the weather changed and sporadic snowflakes began to fall. The three of them sat around the table drinking tea and enjoying the snow.

"The road we just cleared is going to be covered with snow again." sighed.

"The snow is quite heavy this year." The old man added jam to his cup, and a bad idea popped up in his head again. He poked the old man, "Didn't you say you wanted to drink yesterday? If you couldn't do it yesterday, how about today?"

"Really?" He wasn't good at drinking, but he loved the spicy and sweet taste. "I was just saying, Master, you're hiding some wine."

Cong Mo was slightly shocked, "I didn't expect that what Senior Brother said was actually true."

"People naturally need to have some inventory." The old man pretended to be profound and put on a fox fur coat. "Follow me."

The three of them squeezed under a tall tree, gathered around to dig a hole, and soon dug out a wine jar.

"I have treasured this wine for a long time, Congmo, do you want to drink it?" Looking at Congmo who was greedy, the old man asked Congmo who had no expression on the side.

Cong Mo glanced at him and quickly turned his head away. "I don't want to."

An old man said: "..."

Such a straightforward rejection.

"The wine is very fragrant. I have kept it for a long time and have been reluctant to take it out. If it weren't for your sake today, I would not be willing to give it away." The old man advised, "It is very fragrant."

"It smells good?" Cong Mo became interested.

The old man said exaggeratedly, "Very, very special."

"Stop talking, I'm greedy." He licked his lips and ran back with the jar of wine in his arms.

"Why? Do you want to try it?" The old man continued to tempt her, "I can't drink much. I pass out after just a few drinks. Leng Can can't taste such delicious food even after he comes down the mountain. Only you and I can savor it more."

Cong Mo pursed his lips, his heart completely moved. "Then I'll try it..."

"Another drink!" After just a few rounds, the old man felt dizzy and poured himself a large bowl of wine. "The more fragrant the wine, the more refreshing it tastes when you drink it from a large bowl."

"Really?" Cong Mo helped him lie down more comfortably. "Brother, you only drank one bowl and fell asleep. You didn't even eat much of the beef on the table. I see you're almost there."

"I just drank three bowls, how could this happen?" The old man burped, "I can't hold my liquor anymore, you stay with me, I'll drink it all."

"Are you sure?" Cong Mo took the half-full jar of wine and filled it up for himself.

"Sure." The old man looked at her seriously, raised the bowl in his hand, and some of the wine spilled onto the table. "Cheers, quick."

Cong Mo twitched his lips, raised his hand and touched it with his, "Okay, I'll accompany you."

"Master, why...can't those who practice the ruthless way cultivate spirituality?" The alcohol was too strong, and by the end, Cong Mo was a little confused. He grabbed a piece of beef and put it in his mouth, asking him vaguely, "Leng Can can't practice the ruthless way at all..."

"There will be feelings...hiccups...and children." The old man couldn't open his eyes and foolishly followed her words, "But Leng Can is a puppet, he can't have children. That's right, why can't I practice spiritual cultivation with you? You don't have any emotional roots, so there will be no feelings at all. Why..."

After going around in circles for a long time, I finally got myself into trouble.

Before he could finish his words, his head tilted and fell on the table.

Cong Mo supported his chin, staring blankly at the clear wine in the bowl, not knowing what he was thinking.