Not long after, two old men walked slowly down the mountain.

One of them was someone Zhao Rong was familiar with, the hermit Liuyi whom he had seen during the day. He was sniffing the mouth of the gourd and drinking the water greedily.

There was another Zhao Rong who was completely unfamiliar. The old man was dressed in simple Confucian clothes. Although his face was old, he had a head full of black hair, was energetic, and his eyes were bright.

It must be the ancestor of the Lin family, Lin Wenruo’s great-grandfather.

Zhao Rong and Lin Wenruo went forward to greet them.

The Lin family's ancestor glanced at Lin Wenruo, casually threw something in his hand away, and then immediately cast his eyes on the young scholar, smiling and saying:

"You must be Zhao Ziyu, right? I don't know how many times I've mentioned you to you. My ears are callused from hearing you. I heard you were as bright as a jade tree, and very graceful. I didn't believe it before, but now that I've seen you, I know that my great-grandson didn't lie to me!"

Zhao Rong's eyes lit up as if he had discovered a new continent. He glanced at Lin Wenruo, who looked embarrassed for the first time.

Gou'er? What a cool nickname!

The folk customs in different places are relatively consistent in the issue of giving nicknames, that is, it is believed that the uglier and more vulgar the nickname is, the more likely the child will grow up and not die young.

Zhao Rong nodded immediately and said seriously, "Don't be polite, old sir. Just call me Ziyu. I was wondering how lucky Lin Wenruo was to have a face that's even more handsome than mine. Now I know that it's all thanks to you, old sir, that he inherited one tenth of your heroic appearance."

The old ancestor of the Lin family laughed when he heard this, and found that the boy in front of him became more and more pleasing to the eye.

Lin Wenruo's mouth twitched.

You guys are flattering each other, don't get involved with me, where did I say these words...

Lin Wenruo helplessly watched as his great-grandfather and his good friend talked more and more excitedly, especially when the old ancestor told him the story of how he peed all over himself when he was three years old.

And the way Zhao Rong glanced at him with a smile from time to time made him feel even more ashamed.

What a weird ancestor this is. The same goes for Tzuyu. Alas, she made the wrong friends.

Lin Wenruo shook his head and looked down at the golden elixir of Qingjingzi in his hand that his ancestor had given him. There was still warm blood on it. He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped the golden elixir with a chuckle while listening to the conversation between the two people beside him.

"Tzuyu, how old are you?"

Zhao Rong felt uneasy, but he still answered truthfully: "Eighteen years old."

"This is quite a lot, are you married?"

Zhao Rong was about to speak when he was interrupted.

The black-haired old man said to himself, "Well, it doesn't matter if there is one. Um, Gou'er, Gou'er, stop wiping it. Do you have a cousin? I remember hearing you talk about it when I left the confinement last time."

Seeing that he couldn't get by, the tall scholar who was busy with his work looked up helplessly and said, "Grandfather, when you came out of seclusion eight years ago, my cousin Xin'er was just born... There really was no girl of the right age in the direct lineage, and I was afraid that Ziyu would be wronged if I went to the collateral lineage, otherwise I would have brought them together long ago."

Lin's ancestor said seriously: "Oh, really? Marriage is a major event in life. It doesn't matter if it's early. Eight years old is eight..."

"Cough cough cough cough." Zhao Rong coughed madly.

Just as Zhao Rong was about to speak, someone spoke up for him.

Mr. Liuyi put down his wine gourd, smacked his lips, and then sneered, "Oh, Second Brother Lin, stop messing around with matchmaking. Young Master Zhao is so young, but he can win a debate against a gentleman. His future is hard to predict. You girls from the Lin family are not good enough to marry him. Don't ruin Young Master Zhao's future."

The Lin family ancestor was displeased when he heard this, "You old drunkard..."

The two old men seemed to have a very good relationship and were open in private. Mr. Liuyi was not as serious as he was during the day. Zhao Rong watched them quarreling with a smile and actually felt a little childish.

Just at this moment, a Taoist priest in blue suddenly came down from the mountain.

He stopped not far from the four people, stood in the shadows, and waited with his hands down.

Lin Wenruo, who was wiping the golden elixir in his hand with a chuckle, slowly lowered the corners of his mouth and flattened them.

He blinked and wiped the golden elixir more carefully, staring intently at the numerous sky marks on the golden elixir, as if he wanted to see clearly what was inside.

Zhao Rong tilted his head to look at the Taoist priest who was standing still, feeling a little curious.

At the same time, the Lin family ancestor suddenly stopped talking, turned around and apologized to Zhao Rong: "Zi Yu, I'm leaving first. If Gou'er has any inadequacy in the hospitality, come to me and I'll beat him up for you."

After saying this, he gave Lin Wenruo a few more instructions and then went down the mountain with Mr. Liuyi.

The overall situation has been decided. They are no longer needed to take action here. Just leave it to the younger generations.

After the two old men left, the waiting black shadow not far above quickly came up to Lin Wenruo, bowed and clasped his fists, "Master, she is in the osmanthus forest."

"Thank you for your hard work, go down now." The man said softly as he lowered his head to wipe it.

Zhao Rong took a closer look and raised his eyebrows. The Taoist priest in blue was none other than the fat Taoist priest Chen Hongyuan whom he had met when he and Lin Wenruo first met at Zuiweng Pavilion.

Zhao Rong pursed his lips. He knew a little about these things. At the dinner that day, Lin Wenruo had roughly told him how to "directly tell" Chongxu Temple that he was a top-notch horse...

Chen Hongyuan responded, breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, then turned his head to smile at Zhao Rong, turned around and walked down the mountain.

Just before leaving, the fat Taoist stopped and looked back at the Chongxu Temple behind him, which was already filled with flames and thick smoke. Soon after, he turned around and strode away.

Lin Wenruo's shoulders slumped slightly. He had finally finished the work in his hands, or rather, all the work for tonight. He could finally do his own things.

The tall scholar threw the golden elixir in his hand to his friend, who took the warm golden elixir that had just been cut out not long ago, and without even looking at it, put it in his arms.

Zhao Rong glanced at the thousand-year-old Taoist temple on the mountain that was on fire. The dancing flames were like an orange giant walking in its palace, reflecting its light on the black curtain and in every pair of eyes that were obsessed with it.

Lin Wenruo moved.

He turned and walked towards a forest nearby.

Zhao Rong paused for a moment and followed slowly.

Zhao Rong followed him and turned left and right. In some places where Zhao Rong initially thought there was no way, he could always find the most ingenious shortcut.

He seemed to be very familiar with the enemy's territory, as if he had been there thousands of times.

Zhao Rong followed him, stepping on stones and crossing streams, leaping through the bushes, and groping his way into the depths of the remote back mountain.

At one point, Zhao Rong even felt that the two of them were like two naughty children, because he felt that some imaginative paths seemed to be something that only children full of curiosity and creativity could think of.

After becoming an adult, we have become accustomed to following the rules like driving a horse-drawn carriage on the right road.

Finally, the two crossed the last mountain spring and stepped onto the bluestone slabs.

Footsteps were heard.

This was a mountain road that Zhao Rong was familiar with, winding from the foot of the mountain to the vermilion lacquered gate on the mountain where Zhao Rong had once stopped.

Zhao Rong followed his footsteps and walked up the mountain.

The mountain road is even more secluded at night, and the fire on the distant mountain top seems to have no impact on this quiet place. This place and the front mountain are like two different worlds. All the stories that happened on the other side of Taibai Mountain seem to have nothing to do with it.

But it also has its own stories happening, for example, two children, a boy and a girl, from a certain story once came back here again tonight.

A faint scent of osmanthus wafts into my nose.

Zhao Rong stopped in front of the osmanthus forest that he had seen once before, and watched the tall scholar's back gradually disappear into it.

After that, Guilin remained silent, without any sound.

This deep forest seems to want to quietly hide all the stories.

Finally, after an unknown amount of time, he came out.

He was still alone, carrying a pot of osmanthus wine.

Hands covered with wet mud.

The night hides its colors.