Ji Mo was slightly startled and glanced back at me, but my expression was even more surprised than his. He had no choice but to turn back to Mr. Xu and ask, "Sir, have you seen her?"
He shook his head, saying in a profound and enigmatic tone, "It was just a chance encounter, something I happened to hear about." After a pause, he looked up at the stars, as if confirming something, and said, "I observed the sky yesterday. Young Master Jimo, another month of rest will be the best time."
"January? The Guifang have probably already established a firm foothold in the capital..."
Mr. Xu waved his hand: "It's alright, it's alright. Large swathes of land in the north have been lost, the crown prince has been killed, the emperor has been captured, and the people in the south are holed up and not venturing out. What is there to panic about? The Guifang will certainly not be content in the capital. After a little preparation, they will move south. Young Master Jimo, take advantage of the situation..."
"Thank you for your advice, sir." He clasped his hands in thanks, then turned back to look at me. "Miss Liao is unwell, so I will be taking my leave from Jimo for now."
"Boss!"
He waved his hand: "It'll only be a moment. You can wait for me at the banquet."
I followed him through the crowd, and as I passed Mr. Xu, I unconsciously looked up to see him. In that fleeting moment, his eyebrows, his lips and nose were as clear as ever. I felt as if I had seen him there before, but I had never had such a clear memory of him. Since childhood, my perception of people has always been hazy.
His hand gently brushed against mine from an angle unseen by others. I pulled my hand back, and felt a slightly hard texture in my palm—it was a piece of paper.
Ji Mo escorted me to the tent, where I sat quietly waiting for him to leave. By the dim moonlight, I could make out a line of words on the paper.
If you wish to know your origin, come at midnight to the Six Netherworld Tents in the West.
At midnight, they were probably still drinking. But judging from Mr. Xu's demeanor, though respected, he was ultimately not one of my kind. I doubt he would stay long. His aura was too ethereal, almost as if he were about to attain enlightenment; how could he possibly be tainted by the filth of this mundane, military world? Besides, he knew my background. This certainly wasn't about my Liao family lineage; perhaps it was an explanation for my current state. In any case, I should go and see him.
As expected, at midnight, the noise outside showed no signs of abating. I lifted the curtain and went outside, but there was no one around. The paper said that the Western Six Netherworld Tents were to be visited. Without giving it much thought, I simply headed west, as if guided by some unseen force, never losing my way.
Before a curtain, without pausing for a moment, he resolutely lifted the curtain, revealing only a dim candlelight, its light seemingly deliberately dimmed, illuminating only the face of the person at the table. For some reason, upon seeing that face, a name suddenly popped into his mind, a name he had clearly never heard before.
He gestured for me to sit down, so I went over and carefully examined him by the lamplight. He gave me a slight smile and said, "What, don't you recognize me? The day you descended to the mortal realm, you kept saying you didn't care about Meng Po's soup or the Bridge of Helplessness, you wouldn't forget me."
Suddenly, it seemed like I remembered something, but no matter what I said, I couldn't bring myself to say it.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly smiling, but then sighed, "So be it. Fu Xi, do you still remember?"
I paused for a moment, then nodded.
I only remember this name; everything else has been forgotten. Yet, I always feel that remembering this name is enough.
"Back then, I would ask you for tea every day, but you've probably forgotten that."
I lowered my head. What he said was true; I had indeed completely forgotten.
"You've probably forgotten everything that happened in the Spirit Realm, haven't you? If he hadn't promised to let you keep these memories, you probably would have forgotten me as well."
"Him?" I looked at him, puzzled.
He waved his hand and shook his head: "He instructed that you should not remember him until you have lived a peaceful life. When I descended to the mortal realm this time, he also specifically told me that you and Jimo would face a great calamity and that I would need to help you."
The lower realm? I only then noticed his choice of words. And what is the Direct Symbol Spirit Realm?
He seemed to know what I was thinking, and said only, "You don't need to know these things. What's meant to happen will happen in the future. Ji Mo is an extremely ambitious person, but if he wants to achieve great things, you are an indispensable link. There's no need to ask any more questions. Just observe the situation and let nature take its course. It's late, Miss Liao, you should go back."
My thoughts were racing, but he still had that serious, unsmiling look of Mr. Xu, so I didn't linger and went back on my own.
That night, I seemed to dream of something, but when I woke up, I had forgotten it all.
The next morning, I heard the bugle call. Lifting the curtain, I saw Ji Mo leading everyone in martial arts practice. He seemed extremely strict, completely unlike his amiable demeanor from the night before. Despite the freezing outside, he was covered in sweat. He must have been there since early morning. A month isn't a long time; it requires constant vigilance. As expected, Mr. Xu wasn't there. Last night, I saw him with his collar slightly open, making no attempt to hide it, as if we were old friends. The three inches of skin peeking out from under his layered clothes looked so familiar and muscular. But in the end, it was just that nameless name in my mind; nothing else.
I straightened my disheveled clothes. I never liked to tie my hair up, but the ground in the mountains was covered with thick yellow soil, so I had to tie up my long hair that was hanging straight down. There were two jade hairpins on the table. It seemed that these were not things that the men outside would make. If it was not Jimo, then it could only be Mr. Xu.
I pulled up my hair, lifted the curtain, and went outside. The morning sunlight wasn't too harsh yet, but I still squinted to see what was around me. I vaguely saw a figure in the distance; judging by the color of his clothes, it was Mr. Xu. He seemed to be calling me, so I lifted my skirt and went over.
The military tents in the mountains were arranged very tightly, with only two empty spaces for practicing martial arts and for dining at a long table. Mr. Xu was sitting at this table, drinking his morning tea and watching the people sweating profusely.
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