Chapter 149 Letters from the Old House

When Gu Dan walked into the Sutra Library again, he felt something very different.

Thousands of books and bamboo slips stand quietly on the bookshelf, with no end in sight.

The vast sea of ​​books contains records of the eternal stories of kings, princes, generals and ministers, engraved with the blood and tears of the people, the legends of talented men and beautiful women hidden in them, and the absurdities of wild spirits also linger. Even for the high and mighty gods, there are still people who dare to write with ink and leave behind splendid chapters with a stroke of the pen.

As you stroll through it, there is always a faint scent of ink lingering around you, as if you were isolated from the past for thousands of years and were able to glimpse a colorful corner of the years, and a little bit of flavor permeating from it.

It's as quiet and silent here as always.

What is slightly different from the past is that there will no longer be an old man with white hair and beard, lazily lying on a recliner, half-closed his lifeless eyes, looking at everything around him casually but wantonly.

Walking among the sea of ​​books, your feet hitting the ground will make a slight sound, which makes the place even more quiet.

In the imperial palace, which is as deep as the sea and full of power and desire, this place seems to be isolated from everything, like a paradise.

Gu Dan seemed particularly silent.

In silence, thinking carefully, his acquaintance with Mr. Ji was more of a misunderstanding.

Even before the two met for the first time, Gu Dan was already prepared for a fight.

It was just another case of the older one coming after the younger one was beaten - that's what he thought at the time.

As a result, his first meeting with Mr. Ji gave him quite a surprise.

At thirty, one is established; at forty, one is free from doubts; at fifty, one understands the will of Heaven; at sixty, one's ears are obedient; at seventy, one can follow one's heart's desire without transgressing the rules - this is the realm of a saint.

What about a martial arts master who is over a hundred years old?

The martial arts master in the palace, who was over a hundred years old, no longer had the desire to continue to fight for fame and fortune, nor was he suppressed and forced as expected.

After the two met, after just a few words, the topic turned to another matter.

Above the Grandmaster, the innate realm.

That was his lifelong wish. In the face of this wish, all grudges could be put aside, and factional prejudices and differences in closeness were no longer a problem.

Even if it was the first time they met, another martial arts master who was supposed to be hostile could be honest with each other.

This seems extremely reckless, but also extremely sincere.

Abandoning all complicated thoughts and conflicts of interest, the seeker's mind is so sincere and impatient.

Everything fell into place after that.

Mr. Ji took him to see his treasured collections, those treasures that belonged to him that he had picked up from the depths of time.

"Tread, tread, tread."

The footsteps passed by the bookshelves and stopped in front of the door of a room.

The difference is that this time the wooden door was not locked, as if it had been prepared.

Gu Dan stretched out his hand and exerted slight force, and the wooden door opened.

The furnishings in the room were almost the same as before.

Gu Dan immediately saw the chamber pot that was shaped like a hairless tiger with its mouth wide open - this broken thing was one of Mr. Ji's treasures.

In a trance, it seemed that an old man was talking excitedly in my ear.

"I spent nearly a hundred years finding these things one by one from a vast sea of ​​ancient books and artifacts!"

Gu Dan still remembers Mr. Ji's proud tone, as if he had accomplished something great. He excitedly sought recognition, with the smugness on his face almost overflowing.

The scene in front of his eyes seemed to be blurred for a moment, and Gu Dan subconsciously turned his head to look beside him, waiting for an old man to enthusiastically and eloquently recount his discoveries and experiences.

Turning around, there was no one beside him.

"Woo~"

A breeze blew, and along with the sound of the wind came the elegant and long sound of musical instruments.

The sound was very quiet and empty, and its lightness revealed a hint of loneliness.

The window of the cottage was open, and the wind rushed in through the open window.

Gu Dan walked over and saw the playing instrument.

It was an ancient ten-hole xun, with some mottled and yellowish marks on it, like the whimpering of soil.

The ten-hole ancient xun was quietly placed at the innermost part of the shelf, with its opening facing the open window.

In this way, even when you are alone, when the wind blows in, it feels like there is someone with you.

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When the wind blows past the vocal mouth, it produces a melody that is more ethereal and tranquil than mercury flowing on the ground, like weeping, complaining, resentful, and longing, as if someone is waving and looking at you from afar across the long river of time.

It is probably impossible for ordinary musical instruments to produce music when blown by the wind. He had no idea what the mystery of this antique that Mr. Ji found from somewhere was. He did not have the time to listen to Mr. Ji's story about this instrument.

These interests and hobbies unique to Mr. Ji were all sealed in the small house.

History is like this. When the last person who knew it well leaves, all the bystanders thereafter have expectations, and can only recall the origin of everything from a few words, copying others without knowing the essence of the matter.

Gu Dan looked at the window. A slightly orange-yellow warm light seeped in from the window, covering these ancient artifacts with a layer of gentle armor. The mottled traces became clearer and thicker under the orange-yellow sunlight, like a bonfire that had not yet burned out.

My eyes followed the light and shadow outwards, and through the window I could see that the warm light at dusk no longer had the strong and overbearing power that burned everything, and it appeared harmless to humans and animals.

Outside the window, the sunset glow dotted the vast sky with clouds, yet it was so far away that it seemed like a palace in the sky that was within reach but unattainable. The remaining light and shadows were the echoes of the fairy palace that inspired people's imagination.

Gu Dan didn't say anything for a long time, just stood there quietly.

The light of the setting sun was pouring down slowly, the breeze stopped at some point, the sound of the ten-hole ancient xun in the hut gradually faded away, and everything sank into darkness.

There is no light tonight, and dark clouds cover the moon.

When darkness completely enveloped him, Gu Dan finally came to his senses.

A little white and green light appeared in the darkness, and a pair of eyes as clear as water broke the silence of the darkness.

The darkness that ordinary people avoid is not a problem for martial arts masters, let alone for Gu Dan.

The light in his eyes made everything appear clearly in his eyes, and there was no escape.

Gu Dan's eyes wandered around the hut and he saw an unsealed letter on a book, quietly lying there, waiting for someone to pick it up.

In the darkness, Gu Dan walked over, reached out his hand, and gently picked up the letter that had been left here at some unknown time.

When you pull out the envelope hidden inside, the vigorous handwriting suddenly catches your eye.

"Gu Dan, by the time you see this letter, I will probably be dead."

(End of this chapter)