Noticing their gazes, Xie Lian smiled faintly, turned around, and said, "Is this your first time seeing a real cursed yoke?"
Cursed shackles, as the name suggests, are shackles formed by a curse.
For priests banished from heaven, divine punishment is transformed into a seal of sin, imposed upon them, forming a bondage that seals their divine power, preventing them from ever escaping it. Much like tattooing a face or chaining their hands and feet, it is both a punishment and a warning, inflicting both fear and shame.
As the laughingstock of the Three Realms, having been struck down twice, Xie Lian naturally bore this curse. It was impossible for these two young officers not to have heard of it, but there was still a significant difference between hearing about it and seeing it with their own eyes. Therefore, Xie Lian could understand their expressions.
He guessed that this thing might have made the two young military officers feel apprehensive and uncomfortable. After all, it wasn't a good thing.
He had wanted to use the excuse of finding some clothes to wear while strolling outside, but Fuyao rolled her eyes and said, "If you were to walk down the street like this, it would be extremely vulgar." He was stopped by Nanfeng, who had just reached the back of the temple and tossed him a piece of temple priest's clothing, which saved him from the lewdness. But after sitting down again, the atmosphere felt awkward after what had just happened, so Xie Lian took out the scroll given by the Lingwen Temple and said, "Would you like to see it again?"
Nan Feng raised his eyelids and looked at him, saying, "I've seen it. I think he's the one who needs a closer look."
Fuyao asked, "What do you mean I'm the only one who needs to take a closer look? The scroll is so vague and worthless, it's worth reading again and again."
Hearing him say the scroll was worthless, Xie Lian couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the pale-faced officials in the Spiritual Writing Hall who were writing about it. Then he heard Fu Yao say, "Ah, where were we just now? Nanyang Temple—why are there so many believers in Nanyang, right?"
All right. Xie Lian folded the scroll, rubbed his throbbing brows, and knew in his heart: No one will be able to see it tonight!
Since watching the actual business isn't enough, let's take a look at what's really going on. It turns out, aside from the Crown Prince, who has spent centuries collecting scrap in the mortal world, all the immortals and gods know that Feng Xin, the True Lord of Nanyang, was once known as "True Lord of the Great Sun." He truly detested this title. And everyone's reaction to his experience is simply one word: "Unfair!"
Because, the original correct way to write it is "ju yang". The reason why it was misrepresented was because of this incident.
Many years ago, a king built a palace and temple. To show his sincerity, he personally wrote the inscriptions on the plaques of each palace and hall. However, when he came to the "Juyang Hall", for some reason, he wrote "Juyang Hall" instead.
This troubled the officials in charge of the palace construction. They couldn't figure out whether His Majesty had intentionally changed the inscription to this, or had made an accidental mistake. If it was intentional, why didn't he issue an edict stating that this was the correct change? If it wasn't intentional, why would he make such a rudimentary mistake? He couldn't just say, "Your Majesty, you are wrong." Who knew if His Majesty would think he was being careless? Or implying that he was ignorant? Or that his heart was insincere? Besides, this was His Majesty's calligraphy; would it be discarded if it wasn't used?
The most difficult thing to guess in the world is the intention of a saint. The officials were extremely distressed. After much deliberation, they still felt that it would be better to inconvenience the True Lord Juyang than the Emperor.
It must be said that they made the right choice. When His Majesty discovered that Juyang had become Juyang, he didn't react in kind. Instead, he commissioned a group of scholars to diligently pore over ancient texts, uncovering countless minute explanations and writing numerous articles, striving to prove that Juyang was the original name and that Juyang was the incorrect spelling. In short, overnight, all Juyang Halls across the country were transformed into Juyang Halls.
Feng Xin, whose deity had been inexplicably renamed, didn't learn of this until over a decade later. He rarely even looked closely at the sign at his own temple, but one day, he suddenly felt frustrated. Why did so many women seem to be visiting his temple? They all looked shy and blushing. What were they praying for when they burned incense?
After figuring out what was going on, he rushed to the top of the sky and started cursing at the scorching sun and the sky.
All the priests were shocked by him.
After the curses were over, there was nothing he could do; he just had to worship. He couldn't say he was being mean to these devout women, so he listened with gritted teeth for years. Even when Juyang was changed to Nanyang by a serious monarch who found this unseemly, no one forgot that besides being a martial god, he could also bless others. However, everyone also adhered to a tacit agreement: never use those two words to address him. At the same time, they also held on to one thing: How should we evaluate Nanyang Zhenjun? In one word: Good!
As long as you don't let him start swearing, everything will be fine!
Nanfeng's face was as black as the bottom of an old pot, while Fuyao was still in poetic mood and said politely, "Friends of women, the best way to have children. Secret recipe for aphrodisiac, send children to Nanyang. Hahaha, ha ...
Xie Lian kindly suppressed his laughter, giving him some respect in front of the Nanyang statue. Nanfeng, on the other hand, flew into a rage: "Stop being so sarcastic here. If you're really bored, go sweep the floor!"
As soon as these words were spoken, Fuyao's face instantly turned pale. If the people of Nanyang Palace couldn't stand hearing those two words, the people of Xuanzhen Palace couldn't stand hearing the word "sweeping the floor". Because when Mu Qing was doing odd jobs at Huangji Temple, he spent the whole day serving tea and water to His Royal Highness Xie Lian, sweeping the floor and making the bed. One day, Xie Lian saw him reciting the cultivation mantra while sweeping the floor, and was moved by his hard work and spirit of studying in adversity. So he went to the National Master to ask for him to be his disciple. How can we say this? It can be big or small, shameful or praiseworthy, depending on how the person concerned thinks about it. Obviously, the person concerned thinks this is a lifelong shame, because Mu Qing and the generals under his command will turn against anyone when they hear this word. Sure enough, Fuyao calmed down, glanced at Xie Lian, who was waving his hands innocently, and sneered: "From what you said, I didn't know that you all in Nanyang Palace were standing up for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince."
Nan Feng also sneered: "Your general is indeed ungrateful, what is there to say?"
“Uh…” Xie Lian was about to interject when Fu Yao said, “Ahahaha,” “Your general is just the laughing stock. What right do you have to poke fun at me?”
“…” Hearing them using him as a club to hammer the spine of the priest above them, Xie Lian finally couldn’t take it anymore and said, “Wait, wait. Stop, stop.”
Naturally, no one paid him any attention, and a fight broke out. It was unclear who started it, but the altar table broke in two, sending the fruit platter tumbling all over the floor. Seeing that he couldn't stop the fight any longer, Xie Lian sat in a corner, sighing, "What a sin!" He picked up a small steamed bun that had rolled to his feet, wiped the skin off, and was about to eat it. Nanfeng caught sight of it and immediately slapped him away, "Stop eating it!"
Fuyao also stopped, and said in shock and disgust: "You can still eat it even though it's covered in dust!"
Xie Lian took the opportunity to gesture, saying, “Stop, stop, stop. I have something to say.”
He separated the two and said affably, "First, the Crown Prince you're talking about is none other than me. I haven't spoken a word yet, so don't use me as a weapon." He paused, then added, "I don't think your two generals would do that. If you behave so unbecomingly, how can they maintain their dignity?"
As soon as these words were spoken, the expressions of both of them changed unpredictably. Xie Lian added, "Secondly, you are here to assist me, right? So, do you listen to me, or do I listen to you?"
After a while, the two said, "I'll listen to you."
Although their faces all looked as if they were saying, "Dream on," Xie Lian was quite satisfied. He clasped his hands together and said, "Alright. Finally, the third and most important point—if you must throw something, please throw it at me, not the food."
Nan Feng finally dug out the steamed bun he had picked up and was holding in his hand, hoping to find an opportunity to eat it. Unable to bear it any longer, he said, "Don't eat it if it falls on the ground!"
The next day, we met again at the shop.
Doctor Tea was stretching his legs and bones at the door again when he saw three people approaching from a distance. A Taoist monk in simple white robes, carrying a bamboo hat on his back, walked in front, followed by two tall young men in black.
The Taoist came leisurely with his hands folded, and spoke leisurely, even more like an idler than he was: "Shopkeeper, three cups of tea, please."
Dr. Tea smiled and said, “Here I come!”
I thought to myself, "These three silly guys are here again. What a pity! They all look so respectable, but their brains are sicker than the other. What kind of gods, immortals, ghosts, and heaven are they talking about? If this person is sick, what's the point of having a respectable appearance?"
Xie Lian finally chose a window seat. After they all sat down, Nan Feng asked, "Why did you come here to talk? Are you sure no one else will hear you?"
Xie Lian said gently, “It’s okay. Even if they heard it, no one would care. They would just think we were crazy.”
“…”
Xie Lian said, “To prevent the three of us from wasting time like this, let’s get straight to the point. After calming down for a night, have you come up with any solutions?”
Fuyao's eyes lit up and he said coldly, "Kill!"
Nan Feng said: "Nonsense!"
Xie Lian said, “Nanfeng, don’t be so ruthless. Fuyao wasn’t wrong. The fundamental way to solve problems is to kill. The question is where to kill, who to kill, and how to kill. I suggest…”
At this moment, the sound of gongs and drums came from the street, and the three of them looked out the window.
There was that gloomy "bride escort" team again. This group of people played music and drums, shouted and called out, as if they were afraid no one could hear. Nan Feng frowned and said, "Didn't they say that weddings with local people near Junshan are not allowed to be grand?"
Every member of this team was a powerful, dark-skinned man, their expressions and muscles tense, their foreheads dripping with sweat, as if they were carrying not a grand, festive sedan chair, but a life-threatening guillotine. I wonder what kind of person was sitting in the sedan chair?
After pondering for a moment, Xie Lian was just about to go out and take a look when a gust of cold wind blew by, and the curtain on one side of the sedan chair was lifted by the wind.
The figure behind the curtain sat in a strangely tilted position in the sedan chair. Her head was tilted, revealing a bright red mouth beneath her veil, a smile too exaggerated. The sedan lurched, and the veil slipped off, revealing a pair of wide-open eyes that stared at her.
It looked like a woman with a broken neck, laughing silently at them.
Perhaps it was because the sedan bearer's hands were shaking too much, the sedan chair was not very stable, and the woman's head was shaking with it. As it was shaking, there was a "bang", and the head fell off and rolled onto the street.
The headless body sitting in the sedan also fell forward - with a "bang", the whole person fell out of the sedan door.
The author has something to say: I am also disappointed that it is not a big girl.
Warning: In the next copy, the author wants to write a very vulgar joke. I hope everyone can tolerate the author's bad taste. Thank you in advance.
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