Versatile mage: I am lucky

Chapter 102 Deer Smoke Jade

The sky is red with clouds, the sea is filled with golden waves, the red sun is rising, and the golden light is dazzling.

Mo Yu stood on the top of Xunmu, looking down at the busy streets below, and a cultivated sense of satisfaction came to his heart... This is his city!
More than a month has passed since the disaster in the ancient capital. This incident was not only widely spread among the mages, but also among ordinary people. The name of Mo Yu became truly a household name, and even the tourism industry in Jiujiang City developed. Quite a few.

At this moment, Mo Yu has reached the full level of super cultivation, but he has no idea how to break through the forbidden curse. Although he can use an altar to sacrifice or find a suitable earth core, his subconscious tells him that he should not do this.

The phone rang. Mo Yu took it out and found that it was Han Ji, the president of the Ancient Capital Magic Association. After some conversation, he also understood the reason why the president was looking for him - the undead were gone, and the economy of the ancient capital was The system took a huge hit.

Speaking of which, Zhigu had also told him about this. There were no undead in ancient times, and Jiujiang City's income from light magic equipment dropped by almost one-third this month!

"If this is the case, then we should limit the scope of activities of the monarch-level undead and let go of the restrictions on the undead below the commander-level so that they will not be unable to resist and not too weak." According to Han Ji's request, Mo Yu let go some restrictions.

Mo Yu's inheritance of the ancient king's legacy was already well known to the higher-ups in the mage world. Several aristocratic families who had been trying to make trouble for Jiujiang City suddenly became more honest.

In a sense, all the undead in the ancient capital are the property of Mo Yu. Han Ji will naturally have to pay a lot for asking Mo Yu to release the restrictions on the undead.

Some of them interest Mo Yu very much, and those are the clues to the totem!
If you have nothing to do, you can explore it, maybe you can find your own way to the forbidden curse!
……

When Lu Yanyu opened her eyes from the stone steps where she was meditating, it was still dawn. She stood up and stretched her muscles, then pushed open the dark wooden lattice window.

The mountain breeze brings the coolness of winter into the house. The soil is slightly moist, but if you look closely, you can't see any raindrops. Winter mornings in the mountains were covered with ice and thick fog in the past few days. Now, although low clouds cover the Cangshan Mountains, the wind is clear and clear.

It's a good weather for going down the mountain.

I poured the fire, put the firewood away and stacked it beside the stove, wiped the table clean of dust, covered the dishes that were easily stained with dust with a coarse cloth, and put them neatly in the cupboard. She packed these ordinary things one by one, which would accompany her through the cold and summer, guarding the empty mountain, and together with the things that would silence the last winter morning here.

Let's just say goodbye, Lu Yanyu thought. In fact, it didn't matter what the weather was like, I was determined to go down the mountain.

She packed some clothes, along with some belongings and a little dry food. There were weapons for self-defense bundled in the cloth bag, and she gathered them a few times and tied them tightly around her waist. In the end, she was still worried, and lightly stroked the blade of the sword through the coarse cloth. It whistled slightly, and she let go.

Okay, let's go.

Before stepping out of the threshold, she turned around and looked back. What she could see was the ancient painting in the center, a man with an elegant smile in the painting. On both sides of the ancient painting were old couples that she had never understood and her mother had never explained; the courtyard pillars , wooden table, couch, traces of the passing of time. In a daze, she felt that she was also leaving without saying goodbye, using the long wind from the north to wipe away the last wisp of firewood smoke, leaving behind Yun Shouguan, who had long been forgotten by the world, standing quietly in the early winter of Qiyang Mountain.

Maybe she should leave something behind after all. Maybe one day my mother will suddenly remember something and come back, although Lu Yanyu herself has already given up this idea.

She hesitated for a long time, then turned around and went back to find paper and pen. Studying the ink, tapping the tip of the pen by the still-warm stove, unfolding the paper, I couldn't write for a while.

What can be said? The unfulfilled waiting seemed to be something longer than the harsh winter, slowly eroding the moisture of the grass and trees, and making the spring in the mountains cold and quiet in March. She finally made up her mind to leave without any hope.

Lu Yanyu rubbed the paper. The texture of the rice paper is soft and soft, and when you move your fingertips over it, you will hear a familiar "rustling" sound - my mother also used this kind of paper when she left a letter to myself a long time ago, and bought it from a small shop at the entrance of the village at the foot of the mountain. Lu Yanyu went there several times later. While listening to the host's lament that "there are still people practicing calligraphy these days," she put away the new paper that was as white as snow, returned to the temple, and replaced a pile of yellowed paper. Crisp old letter paper—bamboo rice paper with no trace of ink still visible.

What else do you hope for? Lu Yanyu thought. Years of cold and heat in the mountains have passed, but the furnishings in the temple are still the same as they were on the day my mother left.

On the table, a half-rolled bamboo slip was spread out next to the lamp, and the wooden window was half-opened. Sometimes the wind would come in and gently shake the hairs hanging on the pen holder to watch them sway slightly like the buds of magnolia in early spring. The remaining ashes in the stove were cleaned up, the dishes were carefully stacked in the cupboard, and the firewood drying in the yard was brought into the house and stacked beside the stove.

My mother settled everything, left without saying a word, and never came back. Then, I would try my best to live the days in the mountains as they were, and never change them again.

Maybe I still believe that my mother is a nostalgic person. Thinking that maybe one day, she would suddenly appear in front of him, just like the reunions in the past when there were less gatherings and more separations, nothing had changed.

He could continue to listen to her talk about swordsmanship in the courtyard; meditate with her; and watch her lean over and touch the branches of flowers and trees, with a light breeze flowing in her dark brown eyes. Lu Yanyu thought that her memory would not lie to others. Those fragments were so clear and bright, so vivid that they could not be more vivid.

But in the end, my mother left without saying a word, and there was no news, as if nothing in the mountains had ever been preserved in the world.

why?
The mountain is cold and steep, and the tip of the pen is covered with fine ice, and I can see it getting fatter. Lu Yanyu tightened the wooden window and breathed hot air into the pen tip to prevent it from freezing.

You have to finish writing it as soon as possible.

But why?
She had asked herself this question more than once. She had imagined the situation that day: maybe her mother had some reasons why she had to leave; she had speculated on her state of mind after coming down the mountain: maybe her mother had a moment of looking back at Angelica from afar. She tried to find a basis for her imagination, but she suddenly woke up: she had never understood the person she called "grandmother".

No? She doesn't know her identity, her past, whether she cares or not, her hopes and disappointments. The only definite message she left behind was a name, just a name.

Maybe, it's just wishful thinking...

Lu Yanyu clenched the pen and looked at the paper, which was as empty as snow. She thought she had been with her for a long time, but when she started writing, she realized that there was no place for a title between them. There was a cold wind pouring into the room through the crack of the door that was not closed tightly, and the chill filled my throat and made me feel numb.

It turns out that it is so difficult to leave a message.

She remembered that her mother had called her Yu'er in the letter, and her handwriting was elegant and cold. At the end, she signed her name - Lu Shu, which sounded somewhat similar to Lu Shu, the patron saint of the village.

The titles between them were always just names, but Lu Yanyu preferred to call her mother.

Lu Yanyu likes her name the most, because in village customs, names are given by close relatives and can accompany a person throughout his life.

So I became greedy and wanted to leave myself more connections, more warm and reassuring memories and nostalgia.

Can I call her "Mom"?

Lu Yanyu always remembered the gentle, happy and sad look in her eyes when he called her "grandmother". But I was still too young at that time. I only saw my mother's watery eyes as soft as ever, but I couldn't see through the sadness buried deep beneath the water.

In fact, thinking about it carefully, it was not the first time Lu Yanyu had encountered such a look. Her mother took her to practice swordplay in the late autumn dusk. When she stopped to rest, she picked up a fallen leaf and asked her:
"Why do trees lose their leaves in autumn?"

"Well...because the winter is too cold, the trees need to be covered with leaves to keep warm."

"What will happen if we don't keep it warm?" "In that case, the tree will be frozen to death and will not sprout next spring."

Lu Yanyu was a little startled when he heard this, and then felt faintly afraid.

"In that case...will this tree never see you again...Fortunately, it will lose its leaves. I don't want that."

Grandma stared at her for a long time.

"Birth, old age, illness, death, and the cycle of the four seasons are all natural. They are inevitable and there is no need to worry." She touched Lu Yanyu's head: "Do you understand?"

Do I understand?

Lu Yanyu finally picked up the pen and said that title.

"Mom."

Maybe that name was the relief she gave herself. She was no longer someone's support or concern, but herself. Maybe his words of address finally broke something, causing her to leave hastily and quietly.

But no one can explain all this. Except for her mother, except for the person who raised her but left her without saying goodbye, this person was the closest and most distant person in Lu Yanyu's heart, this person she thought about without thinking about it and could never forget it.

"Yu'er went down the mountain to look for you."

The long night of waiting is not enough. She wants to go down the mountain, leave the familiar water and soil, and go to find an early spring that returns late. Even in early spring, snow often arrives, and the grass is hazy.

She put down the pen and looked at the water on the inkstone.

Before we had gone far, the cold wind suddenly roared through the warm and cool water vapor in the air, blowing it into catkins. The rain lines turn into snow, and the bluestone paths are scattered. Lu Yanyu looked up in surprise, subconsciously stretched out her hand and watched the ice falling on her palm gradually melting into water marks.

It's snow, the first snow in the mountains, covering the autumn when Fang left.

……

Walking down the mountain, Lu Yanyu somehow recalled the past.

The day her parents left was also the day Lu Yanyu met her mother for the first time. At that time, she was not called by this name.

On the ancient altar, the priest wore a robe passed down from generation to generation, held a sacrificial knife and performed a mysterious prayer dance. Cold light circulates on the tip of the blade, and the air is filled with a faint fragrance.

The priest said that the reason why their village can survive in this mountain forest surrounded by demons is because they worship a patron saint. As long as they can complete the sacrificial ritual, the patron saint will appear and protect them for a year.

The villagers knelt down and prayed for their wishes. However, a black crack appeared and the sacrifice was interrupted!

She was sluggish, with warm blood splashing on her face and slipping into the corners of her mouth, with a bitter and salty look of despair. The monster's bloody mouth in the fissure greedily devoured everything close to it, and many villagers were swallowed directly into the monster's mouth before they had time to escape.

She grabbed her parents' clothes in fear and wanted to step back, but when she looked up, she noticed the strange light in their eyes. The shining light danced and there was a loud noise, and the parents beside her subconsciously threw themselves in front of her. The darkness was heavy and heavy, and the sticky and hot mud gathered around him like a swamp.

She then heard the soft sound of the track called "life" breaking, and responded to the cries of the villagers, finally becoming a past that could not be talked about.

The pain snakes slowly from the atrium. Time is indeed a good medicine for healing scars, burying, blurring, and usurping those memories layer by layer, just like the trees in the mountains and ancient vines, leaving only their vicissitudes in the wind and frost. But the emotions cannot fade away. The dust of half a lifetime has buried them deeply, waiting for a river of tobacco and the wind of the city to come back.

In the village at the foot of the mountain, children who had returned early were scrambling to release a paper kite. Several farmers who had returned from paying homage chatted and unpacked their burdens, and distributed the offerings to their ancestors to the children around them.

"Eat, these ancestors have blessed me. I will also take care of Ban'er and become a mage in the future..." The farmer looked at his child with expectations in his eyes. The child ate happily, wiped his mouth, and hurriedly chased the kite along the field ridge.

In the distance, the kite hovered over the wild stream, and children's songs and laughter floated in the mist. In a daze, Lu Yanyu seemed to see his original figure.

I saw the little girl holding a simple kite, begging her parents to go to the top of the mountain to take down the thread wrapped around the branches; I saw the second sister and the third sister holding hands and looking up, with the birds reflected in the clouds reflected in their eyes. To clear the air.

It's a pity that they are no longer here.

There was an exclamation in the distance, and Lu Yanyu hurriedly looked up. A gust of wind caught the paper kite in the distant sky, and it staggered down into the clouds. Snow powder comes through the forest to beat the leaves. The green seedlings are everywhere in the desert. The cold winter material is so refreshing that it penetrates my heart.

She picked up the kites for the children. Their cheerful voices came on the wind, and they turned around and played again.

"Sister Yu'er, thank you!"

This is the land of mountains and wild ridges in Western Shu. It is Mount Qiyang, surrounded by mountains. There is a beast in the mountain named Lu Shu.

Deer and Shu are auspicious and protect the mountain village. The people in the village worship it as a totem belief, so the monsters do not dare to invade.

This place is isolated from the world. Few people want to go out, and no one comes in. People who go out from here have never come back. I don’t know if it’s because they died outside or because they don’t want to come back.

With one last look back, Lu Yanyu bid farewell to this village nestled among the mountains.

……

"The head of Nanshan Sutra is called Que Mountain. A thousand and fifty miles to the east, it is called Qi Yang Mountain. Its yang is mostly red gold, and its yin is mostly white gold. There is a beast, its shape is like a horse with a white head, and its text is like a tiger. And the red tail, its sound is like a ballad, its name is Lu Shu, and it is suitable for descendants to wear it. The strange water comes out, and flows eastward into the water of Xianyi. Among them are many mysterious turtles, whose shape is like a turtle with a bird head and a tail. It is called the whirling turtle, and its sound is like a wooden stick. If you wear it, you will not be deafened, and it can be used as a base."

　After I finished writing a chapter yesterday, I felt stuck very badly and asked me to adjust it.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)