You said you would practice martial arts. Have you mastered the Tiangang Dharma?

Chapter 504 Meeting

Beidi Valley is a vast and ancient land, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and has retained its originality and simplicity for thousands of years. Beidi Valley in winter is a quiet and solemn picture.

The cold wind blew snowflakes flying in the empty valley. The vast expanse of white seemed like the entrance to another world. The earth was covered with snow, and the rolling mountains were looming in the mist, like a faint ink painting. Occasionally, animal footprints could be seen in the snow, as they explored the way to survive in the snow-covered world.

Deep in the valley, there is a frozen river. The river water solidifies in the cold, forming a natural ice bridge. The snow on the river surface has been trampled many times by various monsters, leaving traces of varying depths. Under the ice, the river water is still flowing slowly, making a dull and powerful sound, as if it is the heartbeat of the earth.

In the distant village, smoke rises from cooking, forming a sharp contrast with the surrounding snowy scenery. The houses in the village are built with thick adobe bricks, and the window frames are covered with thin ice flowers, revealing a hint of warm yellow light. The Yaozu villagers are wearing heavy cotton clothes and have simple smiles on their faces. They use traditional techniques to make daily necessities such as wooden barrels, pottery and felt to prepare for the coming severe winter.

The trees in the forest are covered with thick snow. The snow on the branches occasionally falls suddenly because of the heavy weight, bringing a momentary disturbance to the silent forest. Squirrels are busy searching for food in the snow, and their traces leave a series of orderly dots on the snow.

As night falls, the Northland Valley becomes even quieter. The sky is dotted with stars, twinkling in the cold air, like a distant beacon, guiding lost travelers. In such an environment, time seems to stand still, and everything is immersed in a deep sleep, waiting for the arrival of spring.

And Aying stayed here, not knowing how long she had been waiting. She was always looking forward to it, until today, when she saw a team of four figures coming in, exhausted.

Among them was an old man whose name was unknown. From a distance, his figure was like a thick history book. Years had carved gully-like wrinkles on his face, each of which seemed to tell an ancient story. His eyes, though slightly cloudy due to age, still revealed a kind of depth and wisdom. Those eyes seemed to be able to see through people's hearts and see through the autumn water. They witnessed the passing of the years, as well as the laughter and tears of the people in those years.

The cane the old man is leaning on is not made of ordinary wood. It is carved from the roots of an ancient tree, and each ring of the tree corresponds to the old man's age. When he walks, the cane makes a dull and powerful sound when it touches the ground, as if firmly telling his life experience. Although his steps are not as brisk as those of young people, he reveals a calmness and composure. Even though the years have left a mark of bending on his back, his eyes still maintain a posture of looking straight ahead.

The surroundings seemed incompatible with the old man. This was a corner of Beidi Valley, full of noise and haste. But the old man seemed to be a figure from an ancient painting. His slowness seemed particularly abrupt in the fast-paced life. He was wearing a faded gown embroidered with delicate cloud patterns. Although it was simple, it exuded a rare character. The gown swayed gently with his steps, as if telling the distance between the old man and this era.

The appearance of the old man made the people around him slow down their pace involuntarily. They looked at the old man curiously, as if he had traveled through time and space. However, the old man did not care about the looks of others. There was no confusion or resentment in his eyes, only calmness and acceptance. He accepted his role as a witness of time and all the traces that time had given him.

Although the old man is taciturn, the temperament he exudes makes people feel warm and reassuring.

Next to the old man is a woman who has also experienced the years. The years have left traces on her face, but it is a kind of quiet beauty, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes seem to carry the charm of a story. Her eyes are deep and kind, like the autumn sunshine that has experienced vicissitudes but is still warm. In the black pupils, there is a crystal light, as if it can see through the abyss of people's hearts. Whenever she smiles, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes will gently unfold, which is the unique style given to her by the years.

Her manners are elegant and calm. Even in the busy and noisy market, you can see her walking slowly, and every step reveals her casual demeanor. Her clothes are simple and elegant, and she always wears clothes of good quality, elegant colors, and fashionable styles. People can feel her extraordinary taste at a glance.

Despite her advanced age, her back is still straight, and she walks with her back straight, her hands clenched into fists, close to her sides, looking very dignified. Her hair is combed meticulously, and she always gives people a sense of proper propriety no matter when and where.

The most pleasing thing is that she has a pair of snow-white fox ears and nine furry fox tails. It seems that she is also the incarnation of a nine-tailed fox?
In the winter sunshine, there is another woman accompanying the old man. She is dignified and looks like an exquisite painting. The afternoon sun shines through the gaps in the willow trees, sprinkles on her well-defined face, and gives her a light golden edge.

Her eyes are deep and bright, as if they can see into the depths of people's hearts, yet they are also gentle and kind. Her long eyelashes tremble gently, and every blink releases the tenderness and wisdom of women. Her straight nose adds a bit of heroism to this gentle face, and her thin lips are slightly parted, always with a barely perceptible smile.

Her hair was gently blown by the breeze, like black waves dancing on her head, shining with luster. A light and elegant dress unfolded on her body, just outlining her graceful figure, and the hem of the skirt danced lightly in the wind, exuding feminine elegance and calmness.

She stood there like a middle-aged goddess. The traces left by the years on her body were not wrinkles, but mature charm. The world around her seemed to be still, and only she, in this quiet time, was blooming with the unique brilliance of a middle-aged woman.

Compared to the previous woman, she also had a similar pair of fox ears and a pleasant white fox tail. The temperament on her face was also somewhat similar, but with a little more divinity.

Seeing her, Ah Ying's memories were released like ice melting in spring, but the one who was most obsessed was the last girl. She couldn't be considered a girl, but looked like an adult. There was always a trace of purity in her eyes that didn't belong to her age, and an incomparable sense of pure familiarity.

In the first rays of sunlight at dawn, the girl seemed like a white lotus blooming in a valley, quiet and pure. Her eyes were deep and gentle, as clear as autumn water, revealing a hint of hope and expectation. Her eyelashes fluttered gently, like a butterfly touching petals. Her eyes were particularly bright in the sun, as if they could see into the depths of people's hearts. The girl's long hair fell on her shoulders like a waterfall, and every strand of hair seemed to be bathed in the morning light, glowing with golden light. Her skin was as white as the most delicate porcelain, and on her flawless face, a pair of almond eyes were smart and energetic, with the corners of her eyes slightly raised, as if they contained infinite stories. Her nose was straight, her lips were as delicate as cherry blossoms, and her slightly opened mouth revealed a hint of an inadvertent smile.

Wearing a light blue dress, the girl stood among the white snow, as if blending into the tranquil natural scenery. She stepped lightly on the dew-covered path, and each step was so light that it seemed to float in the air. Although she was in a gorgeous sea of ​​flowers, she seemed to be the only most peaceful flower, attracting the attention of others without making people feel abrupt.

The flowers around her swayed in the breeze, and the girl's long skirt swayed with them. She seemed to be in a silent dialogue with the beauty of the world. Occasionally, she would lower her head and gently stroke a newly blooming flower, her fingertips gentle as if she was afraid of disturbing this fragile beauty. In this quiet morning, the girl was like a messenger in nature, bringing harmony and peace to every corner.

Although she has no name, her calmness and peaceful smile have become the most beautiful picture in the world.

The two looked at each other, and it was a glance that lasted for a thousand years. Ah Ying felt an inexplicable palpitation in her heart, and then she took the initiative to find them. She learned that the group of four were all looking for the way to the Fourth Heaven, so it coincided with her idea, and she happily took them to the holy land.

It is worth mentioning that they are the familiar people in my memory, an inexplicable sense of connection that transcends time and space
Entering the holy land of the demon clan, deep in the misty mountains, is a secluded paradise. Ancient trees are towering, green vines are entwined, and the thousand-year-old trees are interwoven into a rich green sea. The sun shines through the gaps, casting mottled shadows, and the ground is covered with thick moss, which is soft and warm to step on.

Walking into the holy land, you can hear the sound of clear streams and birds singing, and the breeze blowing, carrying a faint fragrance of flowers. A stone path winds up, with neatly trimmed flowers and plants on both sides, they are competing for beauty and blooming. Occasionally, a few colorful butterflies fly by, dancing among the flowers, as if welcoming guests from afar.

At the end of the mountain road is a towering stone bridge that spans the deep canyon. The bridge is engraved with complex totems. Every sunset, the totems emit a soft light, as if telling an ancient legend. Standing on the bridge, you can hear the roar coming from the bottom of the canyon, where a huge waterfall is hidden, with surging water, like a white dragon emerging from the sea.

Going deeper, you will find the Yao tribe's residential area, where various bamboo buildings are scattered among the green mountains and clear waters. The bamboo buildings are built with special Yao tribe craftsmanship, which is both sturdy and beautiful. They blend into the surrounding natural landscape and appear harmonious and peaceful. Here, the Yao tribe thrives and lives a simple and happy life, living in harmony with nature.

When night falls, the demon clan's holy land becomes even more mysterious. The moonlight shines on the quiet lake, creating layers of silver ripples. The lanterns by the lake sway gently, emitting a soft light, as if guiding lost souls. Smoke rises from the altar in the distance, where the demons hold mysterious ceremonies to pray for the protection of the gods.

The demon clan holy land is a magical place. Its beauty and mystery make people yearn for and fear it. Here, all demon clans can forget the troubles of the world and feel the charm of nature and the profound heritage of demon clan culture.

It is in such a great place, the most mysterious and great area of ​​the Fourth Heaven, that the Book Collection Pavilion stands in a quiet place. In front of its door hangs a plaque with three large golden characters "Book Collection Pavilion", which gleams with a calm light under the mottled sunlight. On both sides of the door, two stone lions are placed symmetrically, their eyes seem to contain thousands of years of wisdom, guarding the palace of knowledge.

Passing through the heavy doors, you will see countless bookshelves, which are neatly arranged like soldiers waiting for inspection. The bookshelves are filled with all kinds of books, from historical books to poems and songs, from medical books to strange theories, all of which lie there quietly, waiting for like-minded people to explore. The pages of the books have turned yellow and the edges are slightly worn, but you can still feel that they have been through the years.

The faint candlelight danced between the bookshelves, casting flickering shadows. An old demon in a simple robe was leaning over an old wooden desk. The brush in his hand was stained with ink from time to time, leaving thick marks on the rice paper. His eyes were focused and deep, as if he could penetrate the words and see through everything in the world. The air was filled with the faint scent of ink and the fragrance of wood, interweaving into a contemplative atmosphere.

Time seems to pass more slowly in the library, and the noise and disturbance of the outside world are isolated here. Even the scorching sun in summer or the biting cold wind in winter cannot disturb the peace and harmony here. The library is like a paradise, where the soul can be at peace and thoughts can fly.

He was the elder guarding the pavilion, a person who was above the holy land for Ah Ying.
In the waterside garden, on the quaint stone bridge, the elder who guards the pavilion sits quietly, his eyes passing through the alleys and falling on the lake where the cruise ship is gently swaying. As the night deepens, the sounds of minor tunes and ancient operas drift in the mist and rain, like a moving Jiangnan ink painting. Beside the bluestone road, black-sailed boats sway quietly, and pedestrians hurry under oil-paper umbrellas. Between pavilions and towers, the corridors are winding, the flowers and trees are lush, the lake and mountains complement each other, the sound of books is loud, and the sculptures of various shapes and forms are lifelike, as if telling a series of ancient legends.

In the rural landscape, the elder standing under the mud wall and thatched roof overlooks the fertile fields. Terraces are stacked, and blue brick and tile houses are scattered in the remote countryside. The rice fields are rolling, the green pines and cypresses are tall, and the smoke is rising. The rhythm of life from sunset to sunrise is clearly visible. The village with water and mountains behind is full of fruits and picturesque scenery. The lake and mountains are refreshing. The picturesque scenery between the bamboo fences and tile houses is full of vitality, with fruits and vegetables in the garden, green grass and rolling wheat waves.

In the ancient capital, the elder guarding the pavilion sits on the mottled stone road, looking back at the traces of time on the deep alleys and city walls. The accumulation of history and culture originated on this land, and the charm of simplicity, simplicity and plainness is precipitated in the quiet atmosphere. The echo of the legendary bell tower still reverberates between the broken city walls, and the quaint buildings tell the thickness and depth of the ancient city. Between the red stone road and the bluestone road, the broken walls tell the long-standing story, and the carved beams and painted buildings, gray tiles and bluestones outline the charm of the ancient city.

In the park garden, the elders who guard the pavilion strolled on the green lawn, the white pagoda stood tall, and the cruise ship sailed leisurely in the lake. Plants of various shapes and forms competed for beauty under the octagonal pavilion, and the beautiful scenery of mountains and clear waters was intoxicating. The green trees were shady, the mountains were high and the trees were lush, the mountains were green, and the mountains were clear and the waters were beautiful. Strange peaks stood, the lakes and mountains were beautiful, the flowers were in clusters, a myriad of colors, and hundreds of flowers were emitting smoke, and tourists were weaving. Amid the crowds, the elders who guarded the pavilion felt the vitality and vigor of this place.

In these scenes, the elder guarding the pavilion is not only a witness, but also a recorder of history, and his eyes are so profound that they are immeasurable.
(End of this chapter)