I became an immortal in the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 246 Accidentally Entering the Mountains, Seven Generations of Descendants

Beyond the murals, inside the Taoist temple on Tiantai Mountain.

Two Taoist priests stood guard on either side of the newly built wooden fence, their throats hoarse from talking, persuading wave after wave of curious worshippers to leave.

"Dear believers, the interior is currently under renovation and is not open for visits."

"Come another day. The murals are sealed up, so you won't be able to see them for the next few days. I'm really sorry."

They stood there from dawn until midday, as the worshippers gradually dispersed. The surroundings quieted down, and finally only two or three bold birds remained, perching on the wood and tilting their heads to observe the Taoist priests.

The young Taoist priest let out a long breath and rubbed his legs, which were sore from standing.

My stomach suddenly rumbled.

His senior brother laughed and said, "Go to the dining hall and see what they made today, then bring me a bowl."

The two men on duty here also had their doubts about that mural.

"Senior brother."

The young Taoist priest's eyes darted around, and he lowered his voice, "Shall I go and invite the Master and Young Master Jiang to have lunch?"

Who can hide these thoughts of a young person?
His senior brother understood, staring at the young man until the young man's head drooped lower and lower and his confidence weakened, before he smiled and said.

"Go."

The young Taoist priest breathed a sigh of relief.

He hurried across the gravel path connecting the front and back courtyards. Soon, he saw the courtyard wall painted by the court painter. It had been very mysterious these past few days; not only could the worshippers not see it, but even they could not.

What happened?

The Taoist priest glanced at the wall twice, then suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"This painting..."

He glanced around a few more times and noticed that several people were missing; the two ordinary people carrying bamboo baskets were nowhere to be seen.

Could it be that the artist felt the drawing was inappropriate and scraped it off to make corrections?

But there should still be a mark after scraping it off.

The mural is very complete. If I had to say something, apart from the slight differences in content, it's a perfect whole, as if it was meant to be this way from birth.

The Taoist priest felt something was off.

He leaned closer to the mural and examined it again and again, always feeling that...

The painting seems more vibrant now.

Just then, his stomach growled again. The Taoist touched his stomach, remembered his business, and went to find Master Sima Chengzhen and several other distinguished guests to have a meal.

"Master—"

"Jiang Langjun——"

"Young Master Li, Fellow Daoist Yuan, Chu Yi, San Shui—it's time for our vegetarian meal!"

We called out as we went.

The sound echoed in the empty corridor, startling the birds under the eaves.

He first went to the quiet room where Sima Chengzhen often read and meditated. The bamboo curtain was rolled up, and the futons inside were neatly arranged, and there was no one there.

They then walked to the courtyard where several distinguished guests were staying. There was an unfinished game of chess on the table in the courtyard, and the wine cups were not empty, with a faint smell of wine wafting through the air, but there was no one there.

Strange things.

Where could a few grown people go?

Not far behind the courtyard was a sheer cliff. They had been keeping watch in front of the courtyard, but no one had come out.

The young Taoist priest's heart skipped a beat.

He quickened his pace, searching every nook and cranny—the meditation room, the alchemy room, the hall, the vegetarian dining hall. His arduous search yielded nothing; he found nothing at all.

Before I knew it, I found myself back in front of the mural.

The midday sun was just right, filtering through a clump of bamboo in front, casting dappled light that swayed in the breeze and reflected on the mural, making it appear as if the painting had come to life.

"Shh, shh."

The only sound was the wind rustling through the bamboo leaves.

The Taoist priest was so exhausted that he didn't pay much attention to what was on the murals. He squatted down to rest, and his gaze suddenly fell on something.

Why is the master's whisk here?

The Taoist priest bent down, picked up the whisk, shook it, and blew away the dust.

He got up again and glanced casually at the mural.

To their astonishment, the content of the mural had changed.

The mural not only depicts the two mortals carrying bamboo baskets, but also adds several other figures: one in blue robes, two in Taoist robes, and two in white robes, accompanied by two children. The figures move gracefully, as if descending a mountain.

It looks strangely familiar.

As if by some strange twist of fate, the Taoist priest called out to the mural.

"...Young Master Jiang?" The words had barely left his lips when the man in blue turned his head slightly and glanced in his direction. His gaze seemed to pierce through the mural, almost tangible, landing on his face.

The drawing... it moved!
"It's haunted!!"

"There's a ghost!"

The young Taoist priest was terrified. He grabbed his whisk and waved it twice before scrambling outside, shouting for help as he ran.

Before the afternoon, the entire Taoist temple was in an uproar.

……

……

The foot of the mountain in the painting.

Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao walked down quickly, and he introduced them to the others:

“My mother is old, but she is a great cook. Whenever there is a banquet in the village, people always invite my mother over to ask her for advice.”

“My father is getting old now, and the doctor said his legs are not good and he can’t work in the fields all the time. The harvest in the fields has been poor these past two years, so we went into the mountains to collect herbs in order to supplement our family income.”

"And my wife and children..."

Upon hearing this, Yuan Danqiu looked over and asked, "Do you still have wives and children down the mountain?"

Liu Chen was embarrassed.

Seeing his reaction, Yuan Danqiu stopped asking questions.

I don't know which version of the story Chen Hong used to create his painting, but in any case, the herb gatherer in the painting has a wife and children.

We walked for a while longer.

As the village drew closer, the two men hesitated more and more, eventually freezing in place, afraid to take another step. Ruan Zhao looked left and right, somewhat uncertain, and paused for a long while in front of a broken house.

"Is that Aunt Wang's house?"

"Why are all the roof beams broken now? It's so dilapidated. Could it be that they've moved away...?"

"Is that Uncle Zhao's house?"

Liu Chen's voice trembled as he asked, "Why are all the sheep pens empty? Doesn't his family run a mutton business?"

The two walked past house after house, growing increasingly suspicious and their hearts pounding. There were many more houses in the village they didn't recognize; could they all have been built in the last six months?
Would the village head agree?
Jiang She and Li Bai walked side by side, and he looked around.

Liu and Ruan visibly panicked and tried to persuade each other.

"Perhaps the court has changed its policies in the past six months, or perhaps the elders have moved to a different place. It's normal that we, living in the mountains for half a year, wouldn't know..."

Finally, an old man appeared on the road.

Ruan Zhao didn't care that he had never seen this person before, he quickly stopped him and asked for his knowledge.

"Old man, may I ask where the Ruan family lives?"

The old man had long, thick eyebrows. Leaning on a cane, he raised his eyelids and sized up the two unfamiliar young men.

"Why are you asking about my home?"

Ruan Zhao was taken aback.

"Isn't the Ruan family the only family in the village?"

The old man looked puzzled.

"Young men, have you come to the wrong place? There are seven or eight Ruan families here in Shanxi. I heard that they all originated from the same ancestor hundreds of years ago and gradually separated."

"Now, when it has been passed down to me, it is the seventh generation."

The seventh generation?
Seeing the surprise and doubt on the two men's faces, the old man frowned. He was old and had no one to talk to, so he was very patient and explained things to the young man.

"Legend has it that my ancestor was a scholar who, in his youth, went into the mountains with a friend to gather herbs. He was killed by wild animals on the mountain and that's how he passed away... Alas! Young man, what are you going to do?"

Ruan Zhao disregarded etiquette and grabbed the old man's clothes.

The more I heard the story, the more familiar it became.

His heart was pounding as he stared intently at the old man.

What was your ancestor's name?

The old man tried to break free, but the scholar's grip was incredibly strong, far beyond what an old man could overcome. He repeatedly shouted for the scholar to let go, but the scholar seemed not to hear him, staring at him with an unsettling gaze, repeatedly asking the same question.

"What is your name?"

What an impolite person!

The old man cursed inwardly. If he knew whose sons these two were, he would definitely curse them for three days and three nights.

After a brief stalemate, unable to reach an agreement, the old man, seeing the other party's burning gaze, had no choice but to speak.

"Ancestor, Taobao."

His words were like a thunderclap.

【Ask for monthly ticket】

(End of this chapter)