Hidden Blade Chapter 47: Uda and Mora
Jinling City is full of plains.
The three-day national homicide ended, and Munch's coffin was carried out from Changle Palace by the mighty see-off team in the early morning.
Long Nian opened the way, and the emperor carried the coffin.
Don't say Chen Guo, even since ancient times, no prince has had such a special experience.
The streets of Jinling City were full of people who came to see off on both sides, some of the world’s faces were solemn and respectful salutes; some of the women looked sad and bowed to weep; some children looked at them, although they were not clear, they were This scene is infected and dare not play around.
Then mourning music played, and the ceremonial officer in front shouted loudly.
"The soul is back, the soul is back!"
The people on both sides worshipped and sang in a sad tone: "The soul returns, the soul returns!"
This sound is endless, entrenched at the head of Jinling, for a long time.
Among the crowd, a man in black with a sword carrying a long sword looked at the slowly advancing coffin with gloomy eyebrows, and suddenly his eyes fell on the white-haired emperor who lowered his head and raised the coffin.
At that moment, an uncontrollable murderous intent gushed out of the man's body, the veins on his forehead burst, and his eyes instantly turned blood red.
His hand stretched out slowly, about to press the hilt of the sword on his back.
But at this moment, an old hand stretched out from behind him and took the hand he was about to grasp the hilt of the sword.
The man was taken aback for a moment and looked sideways, only to see a white-haired old man standing behind him.
"Master!" he exclaimed in surprise.
The old man took a deep look at him and said: "Follow me back to leave the mountain."
After saying this, the old man ignored the man's struggle and pulled up his hands and clothes for a while, and the two of them disappeared into the streets of Jinling City at that time.
The white-haired emperor who lowered his head and lifted the coffin not far away seemed to have a reaction. His brows were raised slightly, but the next moment they returned to their original state, he sang along with the crowd: "The soul is back, the soul is back! "
The tone is sorrowful, like everyone in the city.
......
The top of the mountain, in the Imperial Palace.
The white-haired old man sits opposite the Mongolian beam on the low couch.
"Master, why stop me." Mengliang stared at the old man, and asked in a low tone that had never appeared to the old man.
"Have you ever beaten it?" The old man blew the warm water in the teacup, whether it was salty or weak, and asked rhetorically.
"The hatred of killing my father is not shared. If you can't beat it, you must beat it!" Mengliang's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly. He had to use all his strength to restrain himself to ensure that this old man would never be cherished. The cup is crushed.
The old man didn't seem to feel the anger that was surging from Mengliang's heart at this moment. He lowered his head and said: "That's going to die?"
"Master, I have also achieved success in Jianling practice these days. If I fight for my life, it will not be a bad idea..." Mengliang frowned, neither happy that the old man prevented him from avenging his father, nor did he like him. So look down on the attitude of his former disciple from the mountain.
It's just that he hasn't finished his argument, so the old man looked up at him again and asked, "Have you ever cultivated into an immortal?"
Mengliang was speechless for a while, he shook his head, his aura a little weak: "It's still a little worse..."
"Well?" The old man asked again, but his eyes suddenly narrowed.
Probably because of a guilty conscience, Mengliang's momentum has become weaker again: "Only in the middle stage of the Great Evolvement Realm..."
But soon he regrouped and said loudly: "But what about that, I have a fierce sword and evil dragon, then is Chen Xuanji still a fairy..."
The last word "cheng" was trapped in Mengliang's throat and couldn't spit it out anymore--while he said this, the old man opposite him nodded silently.
Mengliang's heart is shocked, but he is also definitely not a person who is greedy for life and fear of death, he is about to say something more.
"Chen Xuanji is a genius. Whether it is kendo or intelligence, he can deserve this title. Your father chose him, and only he can afford this important task." The old man seemed to see through Mengliang's mind. He said again.
"What do you mean?" Mengliang was a little confused.
The old man stretched out his hand and took out a letter from his arms and handed it to Mengliang. He said: "Your father asked me to give it to you."
"Huh?" Mengliang took the letter and slowly unfolded it in his hands with confusion.
He read the content of the letter, his face gradually became ugly, and in the end, this ugly turned into an indescribable anger that was restrained by him. His eyes became blood red, and his hand holding the letter paper couldn't help shaking.
The indifferent expression on the old man’s face disappeared at that moment. He walked to Mengliang’s side, stretched out his hand and gently pressed it on his shoulder, and said: "Go back to Jianling, there is a big Trouble..."
......
In the hearts of barbarians who were born and died in the Southern Wilderness, the people in the Jianling are the gods in the sky.
In the stories that their ancestors have passed on from generation to generation, the gods in the Jianling Mausoleum taught them to hunt. They only had something to eat and taught them to light a fire, so that they could survive one long cold after another. night.
The tribes of the Southern Barbarian tribe have been fighting for years. It is not uncommon for Wang Ting to change his surname, but no matter who sits in the position of the Wang Ting, before the end of each autumn, the helm of the Wang Ting will lead his wife, children, and children to come. In front of the Jianling, a generous tribute was sent to thank the gods for their blessing.
This year is no exception.
The newly promoted Lord of the Royal Court was a strong man who was nine feet away. According to legend, he was so powerful that he could tear apart the tiger and leopard with his bare hands. This is how the former Lord of the Royal Court died in his hands. The alternation of barbarians' royal power has always been like this, and of course this has not changed in the Central Plains, but the former put it on the surface, while the latter prefers to give him a high-sounding reason.
The lord of the royal court is called "Wuda" by the barbarians. In the simple and scarce barbaric system, Wuda means double heaven.
The name of the gods in the sword mausoleum is "Mora", which means "Heavenly Heaven".
The newly appointed Wuda brought the whole family and nearly a hundred royal warriors to the front of the Jianling majestic.
Uda is very grateful to Mora in the sword mausoleum. He believes that he can defeat the predecessor Uda, relying on Mora’s protection. For this reason, he prepares a very rich tribute-three fat sheep, A cow and more than ten pheasants.
But when they walked to the gate of Jianling, Mora had already stood there early, waiting for them.
This was the first time Uda saw Mora. He was a little excited and dissatisfied that he looked at each other up and down. He was an old man who looked very old and thin. If he was in the tribe, such an old man would probably be Can't survive. The southern barrens are barren, and if a tribe wants to survive in this place, it must follow some cruel logic.
Everyone in the tribe must embody their role, whether it’s hunting, fertility, or herding. Once it loses its effect, that person will be abandoned by the tribe, walk into the southern wilderness alone, and die alone.
Wuda did not show any contempt because of Mora’s image. In fact, there is such a rumor about the immortal Jianling...
There is more than one Mora, but only one white-haired Mora is the real Mora. The rest of Mora are his incarnations. He can be a boy, a beautiful woman, or anyone. Every time Uda worships Mora, there are all kinds of Mora that can be seen, but only Uda, who is truly blessed by Mora, can see Mora's true body, that is, the white-haired old man.
Uda thought of this, he couldn't help feeling a little excited.
The tribute team knelt down in front of Mora, and they shouted piously in brutal language: "Long live Mora."
According to the usual practice, the team brought by Uda stepped forward and placed the carefully prepared tribute in front of Mora. Then Uda knelt on the ground and carefully looked up at Mora, and wanted to get from Mora. His face could tell whether the other party was satisfied with the tribute he prepared.
And he was surprised to find that after Namora's gaze scanned his tribute, a smile really appeared on the old face. Of course, with Uda's inexperienced wisdom, it is impossible to distinguish the difference between a wry smile and a smile.
He started to look forward to something, expecting Mora to say something to him. This is a rare honor for Uda. Many times Mora will leave after receiving the tribute, but there are so few Udas who can Get the favor of Mora, tell them something.
Probably because there must be repercussions if you do not forget.
After watching these tributes, Mora suddenly looked up at Uda, his mouth really slowly opened at that time.
Uda's heart was lifted in his throat at that time, he stared at Mora, waiting for the oracle among the fairy population.
"From next year, there will be no need to send anything." Mora said in a brutal language.
The ten simple words fell into Wuda's ears. Wuda, who was still secretly complacent about his luck, almost fell to the ground at this moment as if the world had collapsed.
He recovered after a good while. He looked at Mora at a loss and fear, and explained in brutal language: "Respected Mora, if it’s a tribute that makes you unhappy, I can Go back to the tribe and prepare a richer tribute for you~IndoMTL.com~Please don't abandon me."
The old man shook his head and replied in brute language: "No, there will be no more sword mausoleum in this world soon..."
In Uda’s heart, Mora is naturally an omnipotent existence, such an existence naturally does not have the concept of death, and Uda’s understanding of the words of the old man is inevitably transformed into Mora. The thought that Ra is about to leave the world.
He was suddenly confused, and the team leading the tribute bowed to the old man again and again, saying something in his mouth. The meaning was probably to pray that Mora would not leave and continue to flicker the South Wilderness.
The old man smiled bitterly and shook his head, and finally put away the thoughts that were in it with these barbarians. It was not unwilling, but such a thing was too complicated for these barbarians after all.
He simply turned around and stepped into Jianling.
Wuda looked at the old man's back, and they gradually cried bitterly at that time.
The old man listened to the sound in his ears, and for some reason he felt a little melancholy. He sighed, but he took another step...
At that time, Mora’s singing sounded again in the ears of the barbarians. It was a sacred song passed down by the barbarians from generation to generation, passed down from generation to generation in a language they didn’t understand...
There is a tomb in the Southern Wilderness.
Do not bury the visitors.
Not buried or returned to others.
There is a man in the mound.
Guarding thousands of blades.
Stay forever.
The sun rises and the yellow sand sinks.
The bright moon comes, and the river rolls.
He is waiting, he is waiting.
The nine petals of the lotus flower open, and the immortals fall into the mortal dust...
At the end of the singing, Mora sighed.
"Oh...I can't see that day after all..."
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