"Oh." Fan Zhiyi didn't seem particularly moved by what he heard. His mind wasn't very clear, so he couldn't think further. He'd read so many novels, and he knew that the succession of generations in immortal cultivation families was commonplace. The world of immortal cultivation had always been a ruthless one.
If it weren't for the fear of exposing his identity, Fan Zhiyi really wanted to continue asking Bing Nandong what Jiuwanli was, who the owner of the village was, and why Bing Nandong sent people to keep an eye on Jiuwanli.
Bing Nandong didn't say much on the rest of the road. At most, he introduced the scenery and buildings along the way to Fan Zhiyi. However, there didn't seem to be many people on this mountain road. The higher they went, the fewer people there were. In the end, only the footsteps of the two people could be heard.
The wind blew through the treetops, and dots of light and shadow fell on the ground. The shadows of the trees swayed, and the light and shadow were like fragile dreams, dispersing and reorganizing.
It was only when he arrived at Tianyun Gate that Fan Zhiyi felt that it was summer. This was a place completely different from Xue's house and the ghost town. He was wearing too many clothes and it was a bit hot. Fan Zhiyi loosened his collar and was already sweating. The wind along the way was hot, even on the mountain was no exception.
Fan Zhiyi couldn't stand it anymore: "Master, could you please loosen your grip for a moment?"
"Why?"
"Aren't you hot?"
"..." He saw Bing Nandong hesitate for a moment, then said affirmatively, "Hot."
That’s right, the male protagonist is a ghost, and ghosts don’t get hot. Fan Zhiyi loosened his hand: “Then let go.”
As soon as Bing Nandong relaxed, Fan Zhiyi immediately took off the robe and his original outer robe and put them on his wrists. He was so hot that he fanned himself with his hands and loosened his collar a little.
Bing Nandong stared at him without saying anything, but just cast a spell to make the wind that blew again bring some coolness. Fan Zhiyi felt much more comfortable. He tilted his head back and sighed, letting his hair be blown back.
Bing Nandong looked at his hands, then clenched them and let go.
Finally they reached their destination. In front of them was a small courtyard. Fan Zhiyi followed Bing Nandong in. The first thing they saw was the lounge chair and stone table in the middle. There was a tree behind it and a raised mound of earth under the tree.
He seemed to have seen this scene in his dream.
Fan Zhiyi was stunned for a moment, but since he came to the world of novels, his dreams have been varied and ever-changing, and extremely chaotic. He was afraid that he had remembered it wrong.
Bing Nandong, who had been carefully watching Fan Zhiyi, naturally noticed his momentary daze and asked calmly, "What's wrong?"
"fine."
Bing Nandong didn't ask any further questions and walked straight to the mound with a dark look in his eyes. Fan Zhiyi was unsure.
"I heard a story before," Bing Nandong began to tell it to himself. "A kitten saw a ghost. The ghost was very mean. It would only stay in dark places, baring its teeth and claws, and scaring the kitten, not allowing the kitten to come near. But the kitten always brought flowers to the ghost. Gradually, the ghost began to look forward to the kitten's arrival. But it forgot that it was a ghost, a ghost that would bring misfortune. Finally, one day, the kitten died in an accident, and the ghost walked into the sunlight. For the first and last time, it felt the warmth of the sun, the same warmth as the flowers the kitten gave it."
It's a tragic story. Fan Zhiyi frowned. He didn't like listening to tragedies. After all, life was bitter enough. He had to add some sweetness to himself. Otherwise, how could he find the courage to continue living?
Bing Nandong smiled lightly, turned his head, and his gaze fell on Fan Zhiyi's face again: "The story is over, how do you feel?"
"It would be nice if the kitten also turned into a spirit in the end, and this time it could stay with the ghost forever."
“…”
"Then if the kitten really becomes a ghost and can't find his old friends, he'll be very sad."
“This is a story.”
"Yes, this is a story. What's wrong with me changing the ending?" Fan Zhiyi felt that he was right. There were a thousand Hamlets for a thousand people. He respected the original work. What's wrong with him just fantasizing about giving the characters in the story a better ending to make himself happier?
"If you were this kitten, would you blame the ghost for bringing you misfortune?"
It's obvious that the protagonist himself cares deeply about this, so could this story possibly have some special meaning? He keeps asking questions as if testing himself: "Unless the other person has done something bad to me, I don't think one person is destined to bring misfortune to another."
"Really?"
"Yes." His answer is quite positive and energetic, and it may have touched the male protagonist's mood a little.
Unexpectedly, Bing Nandong changed the subject and stopped talking: "Have you heard this story?"
Fan Zhiyi shook his head, and Bing Nandong smiled again, pretending to be arrogant, but Fan Zhiyi felt that he was sad.
Bing Nandong replied, "Of course you haven't heard of it, because I made it up. It's the only one of its kind."
Fan Zhiyi: “…”
"However, there is indeed a kitten here. Its name is Nanshan, and its nickname is Xiaohei. The person who named it hoped that it would live a hundred years. It has been sleeping for a long time, almost twenty years."
"it……"
"It has been here all this time, right in front of the courtyard gate, waiting for its owner to come back."
Fan Zhiyi's face was reflected in Bing Nandong's dark eyes. Fan Zhiyi's breathing suddenly sank, and it felt like a huge rock was pressing on his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe. Then, a sharp and dense pain began to ache from the tip of his heart.
Something flashed through his mind, and he frowned and tried hard to think about it, but he couldn't grasp it.
His head felt like it was going to explode. Fan Zhiyi shook his head, feeling dizzy.
A cat, a black cat, a boy with a ponytail...
In Xue’s house, everything they have started from Xue’s house.
At this point, Fan Zhiyi's thoughts suddenly became clear, as if a thread was slowly connecting them. His scalp went numb and his heart trembled.
Suddenly, a hand rested on his head and rubbed it gently. Bing Nandong seemed to say nothing, yet it seemed as if he had said everything.
Fan Zhiyi blinked painfully, a layer of cold sweat broke out on his body, sticky and uncomfortable. This is how it is in the summer, you will sweat if you move a little.
The headache eased a little and was not as painful anymore, but due to Bing Nandong's interruption, the hint that Fan Zhiyi had just managed to squeeze out was extinguished, and the little things he remembered also disappeared into thin air, and the conversation with Bing Nandong after entering this courtyard also became vague.
Hey, why does he have a headache? Is he suffering from heatstroke?
"This headache is an old problem of mine. Um, what were we talking about just now?" Fan Zhiyi hesitated for a moment. It was too uncomfortable not to be able to remember, so he still wanted to ask clearly.
"You forgot so quickly?"
"I'm old and my memory is not good."
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