Chapter 883 The Myth is Lost
"But why is it called a medicine bottle... That's strange..."
Before a solitary lamp, the young man in brocade robes was completely baffled.
"What is Jinghong saying?"
Li Wan, who was adding a spoonful of oil to the lamp at the table inside the room, turned around and asked in confusion.
Lu Jinghong snapped out of her reverie, shook her head, and changed the subject:
"Mother, besides those empty and lofty words, did that knife seller mention any other details? What prophecy was made about my journey south?"
Li Wan frowned slightly and began to ponder.
Lu Jinghong put down half a bowl of soup, walked to the wardrobe, took out a bundle he always carried with him, slowly untied it, and after a moment, he pulled out a leather-wrapped waist knife.
The knife is about three feet long, with a short handle, a narrow blade, and a curve like a crescent moon.
While waiting, Lu Jinghong casually drew his distinctive curved sword and examined it under the lamplight.
Under the orange light, the blade was drawn from its sheath, covered in rust, its edge dull and worn.
It was clearly a worn-out, rusty knife that no one would bother to pick up if it were left on the roadside, yet it was wrapped in an expensive brown cowhide sheath.
This is the knife that the italicist sold him; his mother helped him take on the deal.
According to local custom, knife sellers would come to your door to sell their used knives.
An old knife, bearing a prophecy.
The price is "high".
But the man who sold the knife on credit turned and left without taking any money.
Both the buyer and seller tacitly understood that the knife itself was worthless; what was valuable was the prophecy.
If the prophecy comes true, the knife peddler will appear one day to collect the money owed.
As for what you said, what if they refuse to pay on credit and pretend to be stupid and deny it?
Even in the common people's marketplace, it is common knowledge that anyone who dares to lend money must also have the power to forcibly collect debts, and it is not just a matter of relying on a so-called "rule of the underworld".
In addition, the knife seller seemed quite confident that the buyer would be satisfied with the knife and agree with the price.
From reclusive patriarchs and prominent noble families to impoverished scholars, peddlers, and prostitutes.
They are all customers who can do business.
However, the knife seller rarely showed up and did not easily come to sell knives.
Its origins are mysterious, and it appears and disappears without a trace.
The two appearances may be more than a decade apart.
The time it takes for a single transaction to be completed can be several decades, and the customer may even wait from youth to old age.
This left the Qi cultivators on the mountain wondering whether the man selling knives on credit was an individual, a small group, or a sect with a small population and strict rules of inheritance.
But one thing is certain: the knife-selling man does not belong to the nine mythical lineages.
However, some people say that the itinerant knife seller was secretly founded by a leader of the Mohist school a thousand years ago, and is a branch of the Mohist martial arts lineage that has been lost.
Some say that the origin of the itinerant knife seller can be traced back to the Spring and Autumn Period, and is a descendant of a little-known "minor family" among the Hundred Schools of Thought.
Li Wan looked over, and Lu Jinghong carefully put away the rusty knife.
Li Wan hesitated for a moment before speaking:
"There's one more thing..."
Lu Jinghong roused himself:
What is it?
"It means... that you'll meet a benefactor who will help you and revive the Lu family..." The plump woman glanced at Lu Jinghong's face as she slowly and softly said, "However, judging from the current situation, this benefactor should be the Great Queen or another queen who appreciates and promotes you. Otherwise, who else could it be? Jinghong, don't you think so?"
"Yes, yes, yes, it's truly thanks to the Empress's guidance." Lu Jinghong nodded, then waved her hand: "Besides this, is there anything else?"
His eyes were bright, and his tone was expectant.
In Lu Jinghong's memory, this knife seller was even more mysterious than the Yin-Yang practitioners who practiced astrology and divination.
He had overheard his father and uncle mentioning that his aunt had gone south to pay respects to their ancestors after hearing a prophecy from a knife seller... and before that, the knife seller seemed to have done business with their ancestors in Fanyang Lu clan before, and this wasn't his first visit.
As for whether the knife seller who gave his aunt the prophecy was the same one he was now doing business with, Lu Jinghong wasn't sure. However, now that he had entered the Yunmeng Sword Marsh and experienced these things, he finally understood why his aunt hadn't returned for so many years, and why she was so skilled and had suddenly returned a few years ago to resolve the Lu family's predicament... He also understood what she had encountered when she went south to worship her ancestors.
My aunt's ability to become one of the three goddesses of Yunmeng may have been due to the prophecy of the knife-grubber.
Lu Jinghong had some general guesses in his mind, and he found it difficult to calm down, so he couldn't help but lean back slightly.
Now it's finally his turn, and he must outshine his aunt!
A sense of being chosen by fate, a feeling of being a host, arose in my heart.
Upon hearing this, Li Wan, who was bending over at the table ladling soup, looked even more confused and turned around to ask:
"What else could it be? Why do you ask that, Jinghong? Has something happened?"
"That's all..."
Seeing this, Lu Jinghong said no more and turned to go back into the house, but there was still a somewhat absent-minded look in his eyes.
"Mother, go to sleep early. Your child is going to rest."
Li Wan stood there for a while, watching her eldest son's agile back as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
A moment later, the noblewoman gathered up the bowls and spoons, and silently turned and left.
...
Squeak—!
It was already late when Ouyang Rong and Sha Ergou pushed open the bamboo courtyard gate.
They had already eaten their fill on the way.
Dinner consisted of coarse dry food and plain water.
Having just arrived in Yunmeng Jianze, we're still exploring this unfamiliar environment, so let's not worry about the food.
Originally, Ouyang Rong and Sha Ergou were discussing that after the assessment, once things settled down in a few days, Jianze would arrange a place for them to stay, so they wouldn't be crammed onto this small island anymore. Then, the two of them could go out and catch some wild game or fish together.
The islands within the Sword Marsh are lush and green, and at night they often hear the calls of pheasants or strange birds, so there must be no shortage of delicious food.
However, it seems that this expectation has been temporarily dashed.
The two entered the bamboo courtyard without saying a word. Ouyang Rong took a cold shower first, and when he returned, he found Sha Ergou standing under the eaves in front of the right wing room, seemingly waiting for someone.
"What are you standing here for? Go back inside and get some rest. Did you forget because you were sleepy yesterday?"
Ouyang Rong walked past the short-haired youth with his head down, wiping his wet hair with a towel in one hand, and left with a single sentence.
"Brother Liu."
Sha Ergou didn't leave; he even called out once more.
"Um?"
Ouyang Rong didn't turn around. He took a few steps, waited for a while, and found that Ouyang Rong still didn't say anything.
His tone was slightly helpless as he turned around:
"What's wrong?"
Sha Ergou hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped:
"How about... how about I come with you?"
Ouyang Rong smiled:
"Why are you coming with me? Didn't you pass the test? Why are you giving up a perfectly good job at Zhutang and instead thinking of going back to Taoyuan Town to work?"
Sha Ergou muttered, "Working isn't so bad..."
Ouyang Rong shook his head.
"Alright, don't go anywhere. Since you were selected for the Bamboo Hall, it must be fate."
As the usually taciturn elder brother, he surprisingly spoke a bit more:
“In my hometown, the elders often say, ‘If you don’t take what Heaven gives you, you will suffer the consequences.’ It means that if it’s given to you, take it without saying anything and leave. If you don’t take it, you’re asking for a beating, understand?”
Sha Ergou smacked his lips: "Can God really force it in like that..."
Ouyang Rong squinted: "It's not just about forcing it on people; it'll make them regret it."
Sha Ergou only understood the literal meaning, scratched his head and said:
"The heavens are quite kind."
Ouyang Rong tossed down the towel and waved at him:
"After I get back to town, I'll try to find your sister on the way and ask around. Her name is Sha Daya, right? If I find any information, I... I'll leave it with Madam Yu. If you have a chance to go out in the future, you can go to the Red Dust Inn to find her and ask for information."
Sha Ergou choked up: "Brother Liu, are you really leaving? Is Brother Liu going back to the Red Dust Inn? Can I go back to the Red Dust Inn to find Brother Liu in the future?"
"It depends. He might be here, or he might not."
Ouyang Rong said softly, "But don't worry, I will keep my promise and help you look for it..."
Sha Ergou hesitated: "But it seems my sister went out, she's not in Yunmeng, and I heard it's a big place outside..."
"I know, you said it before. But I've also been out there, so all I can say is that I'll try my best to find out for you."
Sha Ergou had no idea of the value of a promise made by the youngest fourth-rank official in the court, nor the vast resources he could mobilize.
He lowered his head and wiped the sand from the corner of his eye:
"Brother Liu, have you ever heard of sugar figurines?"
Ouyang Rong remained unmoved:
"Tang people?"
The short-haired young man's tone brightened, and he quickly said:
"Mmm, sugar figurines, a delicious snack. I heard that there are sugar figurine makers in the markets of big cities. My sister tried one the first time she went out, and she said it was better than anything she had ever eaten in her life..."
"It's a pity that my boss was busy with business at the time, and my sister left in a hurry, otherwise she would have brought back more. That stuff could have been wrapped in paper..."
"My sister said that the master craftsman could blow sugar figurines into all sorts of shapes. Some even came with a disc painted with flowers, birds, animals, and insects. After paying, you could spin the pointer on the disc, and whichever shape it pointed to would be blown into that shape..."
Ouyang Rong listened quietly.
He vaguely remembered this sugar-blowing craft. It seemed that there was one in the East Market of Xunyang City. He had encountered it when he was strolling through the night market during the Lantern Festival, but he couldn't remember whether he was with his junior sister, an embroiderer, or a lady-in-waiting at the time... He felt a little ashamed to admit it.
However, the three girls' love for guessing riddles to win hairpins and blowing sugar figurines is a bit too childish. For example, the Lady Historian is very concerned about her image and won't accept a cold shoulder.
But judging from how much Sha Ergou and his sister love it now, the woman must also like this thing. After all, every woman has a girlish heart, let alone the embroiderer who is naturally romantic. It's just that he wasn't careful enough when he accompanied the three women shopping.
Who knows, the lady who dragged him shopping for the Lantern Festival back then, with an impatient expression, might have also secretly glanced at the sugar figurine stall a few times...
Sha Ergou's words also stirred up Ouyang Rong's memories.
Some people were moved by the scene.
Sha Ergou gestured wildly as he spoke, grinning from ear to ear:
"My sister said before she left that she would get a duck and dog pattern made by a craftsman and have him blow it out for me to try, hehe..."
"Brother Liu, I'll tell you my home address. If you're out, could you please go home for me and see if my sister has returned? I left the key under the eaves on the west side of the wall..."
Ouyang Rong listened silently, stared at him, and nodded.
Okay. Get some rest.
After giving a calm word of advice, Ouyang Rong turned and went back into the house, leaving Sha Ergou reluctantly behind.
Back in his room, after Sha Ergou had walked away, Ouyang Rong locked the door.
He let out a long breath, sat cross-legged on the bed, opened the bamboo tube, and shook out a bronze scroll.
First, I took out the Mo family sword box and checked the condition of "Zhi Shuang".
The snow-white longsword, covered in strands of lightning, lay obediently in its sheath.
After putting away the sword box, Ouyang Rong took out half of a Qingyan Late Peach.
His expression showed a slight hesitation.
After being forgotten by Lady Zhi Shuang, he pretended to be stupid and drifted along among the new recruits, actually waiting for her to "remember" him.
The main reason is that he trusts Aqing too much. Aqing is too sensible, and there are some things he doesn't even need to say.
However, I've also witnessed Aqing's growth over the past few days, which is quite good.
Ouyang Rong felt that the trip was worthwhile.
As for the immediate issue of being eliminated and sent down the mountain, Ouyang Rong felt it wasn't a big problem.
If I go out with the tide again, it will be a good time to deal with some accumulated matters.
Besides agreeing to Sha Ergou's request, he also sent a message to Jiangzhou, since he had been away for quite a while and Liulang and the others must be worried.
In addition, there is another important matter, which is something we didn't have time to do before Lu Jinghong and her son sneaked into Jianze.
To search for Lu Changgeng's tomb.
Searching for the handwriting left by Cui Hao.
For some unknown reason, Ouyang Rong reached into the scroll, fumbled around for a bit, and pulled out a bronze longsword.
It was the sword that the embroiderer had left behind, which he had taken from Lady Zhi Shuang.
Ouyang Rong gripped the bronze sword and closed his eyes to sense the white sturgeon.
The little guy is still lingering near that lonely grave on Zhuo Island.
Sensing the joy emanating from the white sturgeon, Ouyang Rong's lips curved slightly.
On the dark couch, Ouyang Rong turned his head, seemingly looking towards the courtyard next door, at the mother and son who had gone south to pay respects to their ancestors.
"If Brother Lu knew that I was eyeing his ancestral graves, he would probably lose all goodwill he had towards me, um..."
"The Lu family of Fanyang... the Lu family's flask... and that nightmare of cannibalism... interesting, it has some mythological elements..."
Ouyang Rong murmured softly, his eyes thoughtful.
Having been in this world for so long, he has determined that a mythical era once existed in ancient times.
Yu the Great, who tamed the floods, ended it, casting and leaving behind the Nine Tripods. The Nine Tripods were lost by the Eastern Zhou Dynasty's archives, revealing the Qi-refining techniques of nine mythical Daoist lineages. This led to the birth of the Qi-refining group in the pre-Qin period. They rose along with the Hundred Schools of Thought, propelling a magnificent era of Qi-refining, which was also the last brilliant afterglow of the mythological era.
Then came the creation of numerous cauldrons and swords, ushering in an era of struggle for power with the Qin dynasty...
Since the First Emperor's unsuccessful quest for immortality, apart from cauldrons, swords, and extremely rare mythical creatures, there are very few things that can be called "mythical." Perhaps a Qi cultivator who has reached the level of a celestial being in the Divine Land could be considered half a mythical being, but the era of mythology has long since passed.
As the junior sister remarked after witnessing the struggle between the Empress and the Sage over the Donglin Buddha: In this era, even the reclusive sects that have stood high for thousands of years are beginning to fall from their peaks, just like the migration of the Central Plains aristocratic families to the south during the Northern and Southern Dynasties...
A certain downward trend is inevitable.
This era cannot accommodate "myths," or rather, it does not allow too many "myths" to exist...
(End of this chapter)
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