Chapter 565 A Marriage of Convenience Turns into Love: The Obsessive Sword and the Falling Moon on the Lake Leave Behind a Mute Girl! [Seeking Monthly Tickets!]
Having witnessed the birth of the dual sword techniques of light and darkness, the bond between [Craftsmanship] and Ouyang Rong has deepened even further.
Initially, Ouyang Rong was not a person with the strong spirit of a craftsman.
However, according to the old swordsmith of the Guyue Sword Shop, his "qi" was special, and the craftsmen greedily consumed his strange "qi".
Later, the man and his sword, by a twist of fate, came together, a cruel twist of fate indeed.
But they didn't really see eye to eye with each other.
Ouyang Rong disliked the little guy for his habit of tattling and repeatedly telling his junior sister on things, which led to his rebellious behavior with Miao Si.
In particular, she is too intelligent and has a lot of initiative. She even stole Rongzhen's purple bellyband by mistake. In addition, she also seriously damaged the reputation of the sword master, "Zhishuang", the beloved sword of the Yunmeng Grand Queen.
In short, they were disorganized and undisciplined, and not "loyal" or honest to their sword master.
The little guy, on the other hand, disliked him. He kept him locked in a dark little room every day, stuffed him under the seat, and made him ride around in his horse-drawn carriage every day. He didn't know what was so interesting about it. Just because you can't fly doesn't mean you can't let this Dingjian fly? Sometimes you should look at your own shortcomings. Has your cultivation improved over the years? Have you been cultivating diligently?
Moreover, when they encountered a bunch of clowns like Wei Shaoqi, Lin Cheng, and Wang Lengran, they dawdled and hesitated, just playing around instead of drawing their swords.
Before this, their relationship was similar to an arranged marriage; they just made do and couldn't possibly get divorced.
A woman should follow her husband wherever he goes, whether he's a chicken or a dog.
However, ever since Ouyang Rong first created and established the two sword techniques, one bright and one dark, and then had a good time killing at the foot of the Buddha in Xingzi Lake, he was so enraged that the legendary "Cauldron Fire" was born.
[Craftsmanship] suddenly became clingy.
Unlike before, when I wouldn't pay attention to you if you didn't come to me.
Instead, it was a constant buzzing in Ouyang Rong's ear.
It's like that goddess girlfriend who was initially aloof and independent, whom you barely managed to win over, has now started calling you every day to check up on you, and even sending you videos late at night out of jealousy to check on the pillow next to you and the bathroom... She's become a clingy kitten, inseparable from you, constantly pestering you, and always feeling insecure.
Is it "The Young Master's Yandere Little Swordsman: Marriage First, Love Later, He's So Sweet"?
Ouyang Rong's lips twitched slightly.
However, this description is quite apt for the changes in "craftsmanship".
The new sword technique, along with the cauldron fire that accompanies it, has deepened the bond between the cauldron sword and its master.
In the past, with one person and one sword so far apart, outside the range of sword control, it would have been impossible to sense the "buzzing" in Ouyang Rong's ear like tonight. But now it's possible. I don't know if the distance restriction has been relaxed or if it has been elevated to ignoring distance and space.
Good heavens, what does it mean to be a legendary swordsman... Ouyang Rong couldn't help but lean back slightly.
But what's with this feeling of [Dingjian] being corrupted?
He shook his head.
Ouyang Rong quietly changed into a moon-white scholar's robe and casually picked up an ice-white jade hairpin to tie up his loose black hair.
The weather is nice tonight, though it's dark and windy.
After tucking the blankets back over the little white-haired girl who loved to kick off her blankets, Ouyang Rong touched her forehead with its wispy bangs, then turned around in the darkness and went to the wardrobe.
Opening the wardrobe, glancing at the top shelf, and reaching over the soundly sleeping Xiao Mo, Ouyang Rong pulled out a long, rectangular zither case.
The process of pulling the violin case out bumped into other treasures that Miao Si had collected in the cabinet—some bottles and jars, and a bunch of goose feathers plucked from Jingyiting.
"Ugh... Ouyang Lianghan, what are you doing? Why aren't you sleeping in the middle of the night..."
The tiny ink sprite, no bigger than a palm, rubbed its sleepy eyes, propped itself up, and looked around groggily.
"What are you doing out here? You're dressed so smartly... Hmm, it looks like it's the Lantern Festival. In the middle of the night, which lady are you meeting up with again?"
Pushing aside her suspicious little face that was reaching out to him, Ouyang Rong hugged the zither case, patted his bottom, and left.
"Sorry, it was just something I dressed casually. It wasn't a secret rendezvous, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"Shameless."
Little Ink Spirit lay down again, rolled over, and half-lay on the manuscript of the poem "On Chrysanthemums," continuing to snore.
Before leaving, Ouyang Rong glanced at the original manuscript of poetry beneath her.
The sword manuals written by the swordsman themselves contain the true meaning of the sword manual and reflect the swordsman's own understanding.
It is of great help to the subsequent sword bearers, no less than being taught personally.
Similar to the murals on the walls of the Pure Land Palace, Master Zhongma used an unknown cauldron sword to inscribe the "Return to the Countryside" sword manual for the poor scholar.
Ouyang Rong was able to comprehend the Cold Scholar's Sword Manual so quickly not only because he had memorized it beforehand, but also because of the true meaning of the Ding Sword left on the wall by Master Zhongma between the lines.
Otherwise, simply memorizing it without deliberate study will not lead to understanding of the sword technique. Just like the poem "Returning Home" that Ouyang Rong gave to Li Guo'er as a birthday gift, when Ouyang Rong wrote it, he had not yet become the swordsman, so it was naturally just an ordinary poem.
This poem, titled "On Chrysanthemums," is different; it contains the true essence of craftsmanship, though it is incomplete and not entirely accurate.
By the way, it also has his literary flair. Miaosi said she really likes it, saying it has a superior literary flair, which is very rare. Now the little girl even sleeps with it and can't put it down.
Ouyang Rong's first thought about something that could not be exposed to the light of day was not to destroy it.
They kept it quietly.
He used the words his junior sister said that day after she heard them, as she took his arm and strode forward.
The eldest brother has a broad mind, a grand vision, and a great spirit... although Ouyang Rong still insists that the junior sister has a broader mind.
But it's more like... a tacit understanding passed down between sword wielders.
Back then, Master Zhongma was trapped in the underground palace, imprisoned on the ground. The only thing he wanted to do before he died was to leave behind the "Humble Sword Manual".
Perhaps at that time, amidst the choking, suffocating thick black smoke, as he sat on the lotus platform, all he could think about was leaving the sword technique to the younger generation who would rebuild Donglin Temple from the ruins, so as to preserve the sect's legacy.
However, it also genuinely saved Ouyang Rong's life decades later when he accidentally entered the underground palace, and at the most crucial moment, helped him defy fate.
Looking further back, three hundred years ago, Tao Yuanming, the legendary swordsman of the Poor Scholar, served as the magistrate of Longcheng for only eighty-one days. He refused to bow down for five pecks of rice, resigned his post, and went into seclusion in the mountains. Before that, he specially gave the Poor Scholar's Sword Manual to his high-ranking monk friend who was the abbot of Donglin Temple at the time.
Whether it is unintentional or intentional for a person who has renounced worldly life to have worldly desires is another matter.
But the lineage of sword techniques of Donglin Temple began from there.
All that is gone.
Today, Ouyang Rong's attitude is the same.
Once he understood the situation, he realized something.
The legendary swordsman is legendary not because he created the sword techniques for the Ding Sword, but because...
He left behind a sword manual.
That's right, it's about staying.
There have definitely been brilliant and talented swordsmen in history who created sword techniques, yet selfishly kept them to themselves until their deaths.
But history will not remember his name.
Even if he temporarily leaves his name behind, in the eyes of future sword wielders, he is no different from an unknown person, and the Dao no longer exists.
Because the legendary wielder of the Dingjian sword can not be limited to just one person. As long as the Dingjian sword exists, other exceptionally talented successors will always emerge, summarizing new sword techniques.
But this is ultimately a difficult task, a last resort, much like a leader clearing a path through a mountain. Someone has to take up the axe and move forward. If you stop or block the path, someone will surpass you, open up a new path, and lead the way for future generations.
However, if a sword manual were to be left behind, opening up new heights for those who wield the sword and pushing back the end of those meridians, then future sword wielders would naturally follow the path you opened up and stand on your shoulders, rather than forging their own way.
Only then will you become a true legendary swordsman, your name known to all swordsmen of the future.
Just like now, Ouyang Rong is searching for traces of things left behind by Tao Yuanming.
This, to some extent, is the true way in which the mythical lineage of the Swordholder is passed down.
This is also due to the extremely small number of Swordholders. Theoretically, only nine can exist at the same time in the same era. The long intervals between the births of each generation of Swordholders result in very low intensity of competition among them. The benefits of tacit cooperation far outweigh those of selfishness and hoarding.
Because of the struggle for power, no single family, clan, or even dynasty could monopolize the mythical sword and its wielder for long.
The cauldrons and swords are spiritual beings. From their perspective, from kings and generals to commoners, all mortals covet their mythical power. They mostly encounter ambitious people who relentlessly use and demand from them.
Only the legendary Swordholder is a true altruist, and is at the upper limit of the mythical lineage of the Swordholder!
To establish merit, virtue, and words means to establish merit by opening up blocked meridians, to establish virtue by selflessly passing on knowledge, and to establish words by passing down sword techniques to future generations.
It's nothing more than the "craftsmanship" of an arranged marriage that blossoms into love. He abandons his aloof demeanor and becomes obsessed with his former cheap sword master, Ouyang Rong.
It stands at the bottom of the lake, gazing longingly, like a waiting-for-husband rock, awaiting the arrival of some dead ghost.
In the past, [Craftsmanship] would have simply lay motionless at the bottom of the lake, ignoring Ouyang Rong completely. Forgetting about him was fine; it could just sleep for a hundred years, let that most despicable sword master pass away first. Anyway, when it reappeared, it would still be a sweetheart, sought after by everyone…
It's a pity we can't go back.
Ouyang Rong did not sneak out, but instead boarded a waiting carriage through the back door.
Ali received the young master's instructions during the day, so he fed the horse carefully and waited at the back gate late at night.
Ouyang Rong left in a car openly and legitimately.
There is no curfew tonight because of the special occasion.
He drew back the curtains and glanced at the distant sky.
In the direction of Xiushuifang, bursts of fireworks bloomed, set off in advance by wealthy families.
It's just past midnight, that is, past twelve o'clock, and now it's the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month.
During the Great Zhou Dynasty, the Lantern Festival was a three-day holiday, from the fourteenth to the sixteenth day of the first lunar month. The curfew was also lifted during these nights, allowing people to go out at night to enjoy the lanterns and have fun, a practice known as "releasing the night".
Although it was still the fourteenth day of the first lunar month before midnight, the curfew had already been lifted on the evening of the fourteenth.
Therefore, Ouyang Rong chose to go to the past openly and honestly, and his reasons were quite valid.
"Brother Huaimin, you must still be awake..."
Ouyang Rong looked a little embarrassed.
Chengtian Temple was not completely demolished; only half of it was demolished. The land was originally intended for the construction of the Xingzifang Buddha statue.
With Xingzi Lake as the boundary, the west bank of the lake is the Xingzifang construction site, and the north bank is the remaining Chengtian Temple buildings.
Yuan Huaimin still lives in this temple. He said he was used to it and didn't want to move.
Because of his unexpected promotion to Prefect of Jiangzhou, the abbot of Chengtian Temple and his disciples treated him with great courtesy, and did not drive him away like they would drive away other poor scholars, which was quite remarkable.
Since everyone says Lianghan is still awake, it's perfectly normal for him to go out for drinks and music with friends in the middle of the night, isn't it?
Even if the female officials of the Censorate find out, it won't be a big deal, right? After all, thanks to Brother Huaimin, now the whole world probably knows that Jiangzhou Sima Ouyang Lianghan has a habit of staying up late at night to go to Chengtian Temple to fool around with someone.
Ouyang Rong, holding the zither case, nodded expressionlessly.
...
Although there is no moon tonight, there are still many fireworks displays in Xunyang City, mainly concentrated in Xiushui Ward, which is frequented by the wealthy and powerful, and secondly in Xunyang Ward.
Just as midnight struck, fireworks from both neighborhoods were being set off into the sky for free.
Xingzifang is different; almost no one sets off fireworks at designated times, and most of them save them for the night of the Lantern Festival.
After the Buddha statue and the female officials of the Imperial Observatory left, the Xingzi Lake construction site was pitch black, and the lake water was also dark and calm. Only some of the main halls and courtyards of Chengtian Temple on the opposite bank were lit up, creating an atmosphere of watching a fire from across the river.
In the southwest corner of Chengtian Temple, near the lake, a small courtyard has a dozen or so lanterns gathered in the center. They sway from side to side, as if they are being held by dark figures, who are looking up at the fireworks.
The plaque of this institution reads "Beitian Jiyangyuan" (悲田济养院).
Tonight is the eve of the Lantern Festival, and the monks allow these poor and pitiful people to light lanterns.
Actually, these lanterns weren't bought by the temple; they were sent by Yuan Huaimin through the Jiangzhou government office.
The monks distributed the money, but of course, they also kept a small portion for themselves.
Temples in the Great Zhou Dynasty actually had such welfare homes to take in disabled elderly and children.
It can be considered a project that benefits the people. In particular, the current governor, Ouyang Lianghan, seemed to pay special attention to this kind of welfare home when he took office as the chief secretary. He sent people to carefully renovate it throughout Jiangzhou, which drew a lot of praise.
At present, the children in the Beitian Aid Home in Chengtian Temple who have not been taken home by their families to celebrate the Lantern Festival are almost all pitiful children who are truly unwanted.
In the center of the courtyard, a group of disabled elderly and children, carrying lanterns, stood quietly, looking up at the fireworks display at Fugui Xiushui Workshop in the distance.
Each face held its own loneliness and hope.
In the southwest corner of the courtyard, a thin, unassuming girl sat alone.
She had no family to pick her up, no family to bring her glutinous rice balls, and the monks didn't even give her a lantern.
Because... she doesn't need it.
The slender girl didn't watch the fireworks with her companions. She sat alone on the ground, hugging her knees, her back to everyone. Her face was hidden by the darkness, and her right hand, which was hugging her knees, was missing a little finger.
She was as still as a virgin, her face blurred, as if facing a lonely lake.
Although I didn't witness it with my own eyes, I can still recall the sound of the Buddha statue collapsing, the roar of the cauldron fire blazing in the sky, the howling of the corrupt official as he was beheaded, the hurried footsteps of the female officials and soldiers, and the angry roar of the old woman with purple aura...
All of these sounds resonated in my ears.
Amidst the clamor, she heard only the faint, tiny sound of something, seemingly imbued with the power of a surging myth, falling into the water.
Zhao Qingxiu was absolutely certain that a "star" had fallen into Xingzi Lake.
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
