Makeup Chapter 13
Ever since Ke Congzhou and Lao Hu went to Zhongyi Hall, Luo Shun hadn't spoken to him on his own initiative. Ke Congzhou certainly didn't dare to take the initiative to provoke him.
Speaking of which, there are many people on the mountain who have no relatives or friends. No one knows how they came to this world. Like drifting duckweed, they have been ups and downs in this absurd world for many years. Each of them has their own mistakes and mistakes, and finally joined Sujian Mountain. Ke Congzhou is the luckiest of all the drifting duckweed, because he was born in the mountain, and his father, whom he has never met, is...
Of course, not many people dared to mention his father, and when they did, Luo Shun had to be mentioned. They were destined to be an estranged pair of father and son, so estranged that during Qingming Festival and Cold Food Festival, he would mingle among the disciples to burn three incense sticks to the "former master."
His longing and fantasy for the word "father" lasted for a long time. Based on what he had pieced together from the words of the elders in the mountains, his father was probably a "saint" when he was alive.
Outstanding talent, noble character, gentleness and kindness...
Fortunately, he was short-lived. He is now in heaven.
These words were vague, like contrived compliments. He asked about his father's upbringing and what he had done, and the answers he got were "I don't know," "I don't remember," and "He was very close to Master Luo." The third sentence was essential.
Ke Congzhou was a sensitive man and had long since sensed Luo Shun's extraordinary remembrance of his father. As a child, he didn't understand, believing that the bond between fellow disciples who had endured life and death was naturally extraordinary.
When he grew up a little, he realized something was wrong.
The deceased had left no residence on the mountain, and no one could approach the tombstone without the master's permission. Others dared not even whisper a word of criticism. The portrait hung in Sushan Hall, but no one except Luo Shun dared to "look at it"... When the mountain dwellers mentioned the late master, they thought of Luo Shun. This uncle had, by all means, transformed himself into a "relic" of the deceased.
Even surpassed Ke Congzhou.
Ke Congzhou followed Luo Shun at a moderate pace. Everyone around them walked in the opposite direction, so the pace grew quieter. He remained composed, not asking what Luo Shun wanted him to do, nor where they were going in such a roundabout way.
The clouds in the sky were burning brighter and brighter, and the wind was blowing. Ke Congzhou rubbed his eyes and saw Luo Shun's red clothes fluttering in the wind, which faded into pink and orange. So when Luo Shun turned around, Ke Congzhou was not scared by the smile on his face as usual.
He took two more steps, and the sunset glow became more and more brilliant, blurring people's faces.
Ke Congzhou was a little slow before he saluted Luo Shun: "Uncle Master."
When he stood up, he glanced around and saw many wooden blocks of different heights standing around him, which seemed to be used by disciples to practice martial arts.
Luo Shun's narrow eyes twitched slightly, with no trace of expression in them; it was the natural surprise that this gesture carried. He said, "Since you've been following Lao Hu, I've never asked about your studies. Now it seems you're doing quite well."
If Ke Congzhou was a few years older, his rationality would have been able to suppress his fickle mood, and he would not have rekindled his expectations or disappointments because of others' compliments or sarcasm. Then he would not be like this today. Even though he knew Luo Shun's attitude towards him, he would still be excited by his casual words and let down his guard.
Ke Congzhou's throat rolled over, and he tried his best to control his expression, and said in a low voice: "...Thank you for the compliment, uncle."
Luo Shunwei raised his face slightly, the rosy glow of the sky casting a shadow on him, making it even harder for Ke Congzhou to read his expression. "I never intended to tell you these things before. I don't like you, and that's because you don't act like a senior brother."
What he said was the absolute truth. He didn't mention anything else, not even what he considered Ke Congzhou's ignominious background. Luo Shun was completely convinced of his identity as a "demon." He was disgusted by his enemy's valiant deeds, and so he disdained to lie or go back on his word.
This is his greatest strength.
To outsiders, this demon possessed a knack for word games. Even the most ordinary of words held hidden meanings, each one meticulously calculated and crafted. Those he had victimized could never find a single flaw in his words.
Ke Congzhou didn't understand all this. To him, Luo Shun's words meant that there was light at the end of the tunnel. The follow-up was what was important. He unconsciously opened his eyes wide and looked at Luo Shun.
Luo Shun said: "But after seeing you use the Su Jian Jue today, I changed my mind."
Luo Shun's gaze fell on Ke Congzhou's face.
The rosy glow of the sunset had passed, and even the wind had taken on a chill. Ke Congzhou's face was bathed in patches of deep red, its features buried in the hazy light. Looking at him now, he looked a bit like Ke Yuanshan.
But Luo Shun was not moved at all.
When he said "very unlike," he meant more than just his appearance. While his appearance was plain, his strength lay in his gentle demeanor. He was incredibly patient with those close to him, forgiving of any fault. He might give the impression of being soft-hearted, but in reality, he possessed a decisive personality. His sword resembled his personality: he wouldn't strike normally, but when he did, he held nothing back.
As for Ke Congzhou, unlike his flamboyant appearance, his sword often showed a sense of turning around, and he was hesitant when drawing his sword. When facing a strong opponent, he would unconsciously show signs of retreat.
Luo Shun didn't consider Ke Congzhou's age. Even if it meant setting a trap that would satisfy him, he didn't want to waste his energy. Without further explanation, he located the dagger at Ke Congzhou's waist, walked over, and drew his sword.
Ke Congzhou was startled, but didn't react further. Luo Shun unsheathed the broken "left sword" and gestured twice—his movements were quite casual, as if immersed in water, limp and powerless. As Ke Congzhou thought this, he saw Luo Shun swing his sword horizontally. A powerful sword energy suddenly surged from the lazy water surrounding him, and the water's properties suddenly changed, instantly taking on a biting chill.
This is the "Canglang style"!
If Meng Shizhuang's move is compared to the most ferocious wave, then Luo Shun is an entire fierce and cold river.
Meng Shizhuang's "Canglang" transformed into actual sword energy as it approached. Luo Shun's move was like water that was "as light as a feather and heavier than Mount Tai" from beginning to end, with a sense of urgency and chill.
Ke Congzhou thought he had been struck head-on, and after the "tail" of the attack had passed for a moment, he coughed violently and gasped for breath. That attack had truly given him the illusion of struggling in a turbulent river.
A muffled sound came from behind. Ke Congzhou turned around and saw that the wooden stakes in the field, which were too big for an adult to hold with two hands, were neatly cut into pieces and rolled to the ground.
Luo Shun handed the sword back to Ke Congzhou.
Ke Congzhou stared at the broken end of the "Left Sword" and was speechless for a long time.
He was too embarrassed to ask Lao Hu or Master Ruan to clean up the mess after his sword was broken due to his inferior skills. But he did worry about how to make the most of this short sword besides practicing his moves.
Luo Shun gave him the answer.
Ke Congzhou finally faced up to his uncle.
The sunset cast a brilliant but short-lived painting on the horizon. After it all fell, only a little light remained. With this little light, Ke Congzhou threw aside courtesy for the first time and stared at Luo Shun.
Children don't pay attention to the details of a person's appearance; being able to tell who is who is enough is enough. The biggest trauma Luo Shun left on Ke Congzhou was that nighttime conversation in which he treated his life as a joke. Therefore, when his eyes briefly glanced over Luo Shun's face, it was immediately tinged with a harsh and sinister hue.
Looking at it now, Shan Luoshun's pair of long and narrow eyes are actually very beautiful. Every bend and movement of the eyes is gentle. Such long eyes do not appear sharp, but make people feel that the owner is full of vigor and vitality.
But the smile he brought was awkward. It was like he was forcing himself to smile, stiff and odd, making his entire face look out of place.
Ke Congzhou was afraid of Luo Shun. But as a follower of Lao Hu, he had also picked up some of his upright character, and he didn't like to gossip. He occasionally overheard fellow apprentices complaining about Luo Shun, but he never joined in. But after hearing it so often, and considering Luo Shun had indeed done nothing wrong, he subconsciously looked down on everything about him.
Who would have thought that Sect Leader Luo, who spent all day drinking in front of portraits to drown his sorrows, could actually use such an amazing sword move.
It is no exaggeration to say that he is not inferior to Lao Hu, who made the Su Jian Jue famous.
Luo Shun still looked lazy, as if he had a sudden idea: "I'm in a good mood today. Come here after the banquet and I'll teach you a few moves." Then he put his hands behind his back and left regardless of whether Ke Congzhou agreed or not.
Ke Congzhou watched his back gradually sink into the gray sky, and felt that Luo Shun's behavior was very abrupt, but when he thought it was Luo Shun, he didn't find it strange.
Tonight's banquet at Fanli Village was even more grand than yesterday's, with each Sujian Mountain disciple assigned their own seat. Meng Shizhuang was still at the end, almost at the door. While he was filling his stomach, he took a moment to glance at the banquet hall. It was the size of ten or so living quarters and brightly lit. He had sneaked through Sujian Mountain at night and had never seen such a luxurious room.
He wasn't truly part of Sujian Mountain, and he often scoffed at the old men's boasts about their achievements in founding the mountain and the sect. The only place he could stay was Keju, but Keju was lacking in everything, and even the things he had were of the lowest quality.
But Meng Shizhuang is naturally rebellious and a bit crooked.
When he was a child, Lao Ju had to work hard just to protect him. The mountain's sycophants were too numerous to keep up, and those who came brazenly to cause trouble were nothing. Once, a disciple from some unknown sect tricked Meng Shizhuang into heading to the back mountain and kicked the child downhill. He was constantly hungry, lighter than paper, and as he tumbled down, he got stuck in a small tree.
The small tree had not grown fully yet, and it carried him precariously halfway up the hillside for two days until Lao Hu finally found him and sent him back to Lao Ju.
Therefore, Lao Ju spent most of his time talking to him on these things, teaching him which places were dangerous, which places he should not go to, and what to do when he encountered people who deliberately caused trouble... When Meng Shizhuang grew up and could tolerate or resolve those difficulties, Lao Ju shifted his focus.
Then I finally realized that the crookedness in Meng Shizhuang had grown so strong that it couldn't be reversed.
There were many things Lao Ju hadn't had time to teach him. It was like "everything has its owner," but Meng Shizhuang didn't see it that way. Humans couldn't conjure things out of thin air; everything was given by God. He could pick a leaf from a tree, so why couldn't he take a wreath made of leaves someone else had woven?
No matter what Lao Ju said, he didn't understand. Clearly, the rocks and grass had no owner, so whoever passed through their hands was called "master"? Then, since he had touched them, he should be the new owner. After all, humans can only give birth to humans, so he didn't steal children.
Later, he learned another word, "pick up." This made it easier for him to refute Lao Ju. Since picking up things was not wrong, then all his things were picked up. If you can pick up things in the wilderness, why can't you pick up things in the courtyard or house? Anything left there can be "picked up."
Meng Shizhuang was determined to do evil. Sometimes Lao Ju was so angry with him that he almost vomited blood. He was too lazy to argue with him patiently and simply suppressed him; or he would stare at him and cough miserably to force Meng Shizhuang to compromise.
Meng Shizhuang and Lao Ju were in the same mood. He felt that the old man in the room had irritated him greatly, but he had no choice but to give in, so he did a lot of things that were lip service and ulterior motives. His eyes lingered on the banquet hall, and when he turned around, he saw the door was open and he could see the disciples patrolling from Fanli Village.
The defenses on Sujian Mountain, apart from the twelve gates, were made of fine sand, which would be blown away even by the wind. As for here... Meng Shizhuang gave up the idea.
He ate quickly. Even though he hadn't been hungry in the past few days, he was still like a starving ghost. Although he felt a little uncomfortable with the bloating, he was even more annoyed by the sight of leftovers on the table, so he stuffed it all in his stomach.
The owner and the head of the manor toasted each other with a few glasses of wine, and Meng Shizhuang listened to them discussing world affairs with only a vague understanding.
"...Finally, the rebels in the west have retreated further. Thankfully, our Daohai City is just a remote corner. Even if we travel hundreds of miles east, west, south, or north, we still wouldn't get a chance to fight for it. The locals first destroyed our 'life-saving treasures'. Now, the nearest cities don't have this rule anymore, making it easier for us to go over and take a look."
The one who spoke was Fan Ji.
Meng Shizhuang didn't care about the deeper meaning of "buying life and wealth", and secretly remembered in his heart: it turns out that pedestrians have to pay money to enter the city.
He continued listening. This time it was an unfamiliar voice: "We have to wait until the city calms down. A group of rebels have been executed in the capital, and ministers from all over the country are rushing to the capital to pledge their loyalty. Isn't the general named Xi the one who's now wielding his power in the city? What a show of force! He burned down a dozen 'prince temples' as soon as he entered the city. The King of Jingxi is a pest, and those temples weren't built by the people. Why take out his anger on innocent people? It's said that a number of people were killed along with the temples."
Then, someone else said, "He acted tyrannically in Daohai City, but he's not going to make great achievements after returning to the capital! It turns out that the deputy generals around King Jingxi were just like that, slaughtering three small towns just to steal the people's rice. Without that food, how could King Jingxi have held off the court for several months and escaped to his fiefdom? King Jingxi proclaimed himself king in his own territory, and all his minions became princes and nobles."
Meng Shizhuang couldn't understand the following words even more.
He stared at the empty table in a daze, not noticing that the person above was talking one after another, and now the topic had turned to him.
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