Seeking the Dao in the Seemingly Mundane Mortal World Chapter 1: Xunxian
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Two months later, the autumn is high and fresh.
At dusk.
In the small village at the foot of the mountain, a few wisps of smoke floated slowly, three or two young children ran around the village, and there were farmers in the roadside fields cutting rice, and the big yellow dog was lying lazily outside the house, just sniffing the house behind him in the sunset The rice fragrant.
The sound of horse hooves from far to near shattered the tranquility of the village. The big yellow dog was startled and arched up and looked at the smoke and dust in the distance.
Two horses, one black and one white, galloped forward, and when they reached the entrance of the village, they slowed down their horses and looked up at the mountains not far away.
The sunset glow is reflected in the mountains, and the clouds and mist in the mountains are faintly red, and there are rugged rocks towering above the sky, as if flying into a fairyland among the red clouds.
At the foot of the mountain, there is a shepherd boy riding an ox, and shepherding the flute leisurely, making this rural picture more peaceful.
"It's what they said, this place really looks like a fairy." Bai is a fourteen or five-year-old boy, with red lips and white teeth, and long black hair. The samurai bun is strictly tied with a silver belt, and the end is black. The satin was draped down and looked unrestrained. The bright eyes stared at the mountains, with a certain expectation in their eyes.
Hei is a young man in a brocade robe. Seeing that he is four or five years older than him, the faces of the two are somewhat similar. It is easy to think of them as a pair of brothers. The difference is that the young man's facial features are sharper, and he looks a lot more serious.
The two horses have long tarpaulin bags hung, and the cold tip of the gun appears from the mouth of the bag, and the cold light is slightly exposed.
After hearing what the young man said, the young man didn't respond, he just looked at the shepherd boy in the distance quietly, and said nothing.
"What's wrong?" The boy turned his head and asked.
"Nothing." The young man returned to his senses and smiled, "It just feels that the tune is unheard of, fresh and distant, and refreshing."
The young man nodded in agreement. If the environment was said to be only five or six cents of immortality, with this Yoyo Mu flute, it would be seven or eight in vain.
He didn't think too much, and smiled: "How many good songs are in the world, we don't know all about it. Could my brother suddenly start to like the sound of Sizhu?"
The young man laughed, shook his head, and the two slowly rode into the village.
On the roadside is the rice field, where the farmer is sweating and cutting the rice. The young man walks slowly by, but his eyes are fixed on the rice field, his expression is getting more and more serious.
The young man looked around for a while, some of the rice in the paddy field has been cut, and some are still growing. At first glance, it looks messy and unattractive. Seeing his serious appearance, he could not help but wonder: "What are you looking at..."
"Look away and look carefully."
The young man looked at it carefully, zoomed in and looked into the rice field, and he felt that the cut short part of the rice field formed the shape of a Tai Chi Yin and Yang fish. Although it is not too standard, the shape is really Tai Chi!
Is it an illusion?
The young man pressed his heart to surprise, reined his horse and said, "This old man..."
The farmer raised his head and saw the obvious ostentation of the two, and his faces turned into chrysanthemums: "Are the two going into the mountains to find immortals? It's getting late. How about staying at my house for one night? Of..."
"..." The image of the superior was instantly shattered, and the young man's eyes moved, and he politely introduced himself: "Now Li Qinglin, this is the younger brother Qingjun... dare to ask Lao Zhang, this rice is cut in such a shape... …What's the way?"
"Door?" The farmer scratched his head in wonder, and the mud was scratched on his hair. "This is the shorthand number six and nine for Xiao Qin to teach me. What kind of style does he say together? I don’t understand, while memorizing the number, I cut it like this..."
Is that so? The brothers glanced at each other, and both sighed a little funny. Although the number six or nine is unheard of, it is better than the farmer’s creation of Tai Chi Yin and Yang fish in the field.
The farmer said again: "My house is the most comfortable place to stay, hot kang and milk, as long as three texts..."
"No need." The two smiled and reined their horses and walked away.
"Eh eh eh..." the farmer shouted behind him, "You don't want to enter the mountain so late. Recently, there are poisonous miasma and strange tigers in the mountain, it is very dangerous!"
The young Li Qingjun patted the gun bag, turned his head and smiled: "You can only show sincerity when you know the difficulties. How about we help you except the tiger?"
The farmer looked at their guns, hesitated for a moment, just said: "Then be careful."
It is close to the end of the village, and at the foot of the mountain, the meaning of the clouds and mist is even stronger, and the courtyards at the end of the village are not clear enough. A woodman came with a leisurely burden, as if traveling through the clouds, singing songs at will:
"Everyone in the world knows that gods are good, but they can't forget their fame and fame. Where will the ancient and modern meet? The pile of grass in the deserted mound is gone.
The world knows that gods are good, only gold and silver can't be forgotten. In the end, I only hate to gather, but I close my eyes for a long time..."
The brothers watched and listened in a daze, the horseshoe slowed down and finally stopped completely.
When I came to this place, I felt that everything was different from other places. Even the music sung by a woodcutter was of this level. No wonder people say that this mountain is immortal. There is indeed some truth in it.
"Dare to ask Lao Zhang..." Li Qinglin stopped the woodcutter, "Who made this song?"
The woodcutter smiled and said: "The song that the Qin kid sings, isn't it interesting?"
It's more interesting? This is where? This is Xianji Mountain, where immortal seekers have been in an endless stream. Hearing such a song in such a place is even more meaningful.
"Dare to ask where does this Mr. Qin live?"
The woodcutter pointed at the depths of the clouds and mist: "The last yard where medicines are dried at the end of the village is the last one. I've recognized it in the past."
The yard is really easy to recognize. The small yard is densely covered with scaffolds, several layers of dustpans, and all kinds of herbs. The scent of the herb lingers, very comfortable.
A young man was sitting in the middle of the yard, carrying a stick into the stone mortar and smashing medicine in a stone mortar. He was relaxed and unaware of a visitor approaching.
The two watched for a while, and the original mood of meeting an expert disappeared. Because this young man was too young, he looked only sixteen or seventeen, no bigger than Li Qingjun, and there was really no way to connect with any superior hermit. What's more, with the martial arts vision of the two, this young man is just a martial artist, and his cultivation is not as good as himself.
But teenagers are also interesting. He is coarsely clothed and sloppy, slightly thin, and looks very delicate and quiet, unlike a rural villager, but like a scholar. While smashing medicines leisurely, humming unintelligible tunes, the sound of "gritty" smashing medicines floated in this quiet dusk, with a relaxing rhythm and rhythm, and the feeling of tranquility and quietness in the countryside rose spontaneously.
Looking at this, his songs and numbers are mostly from reading some miscellaneous books, or some family studies? In terms of family learning, the farmer woodcutter only said "Little Qin" and "Qin's kid", I am afraid that the elders are no longer there.
Interestingly, his "medicine pestle" is a mace, which looks thicker than his thigh, and his hideous wolf teeth gleam in the setting sun, forming an outrageous contrast with his delicate appearance.
This is his weapon for martial arts?
"Hey!" Li Qingjun looked for a long time and couldn't help but smile: "Can a mace be used for medicine? The front end is not a sharp tooth?"
The boy stopped, turned his head and glanced at them, focusing on the gun bags of the two of them, and answered the wrong question: "It's inconvenient to enter the mountain at night, so you two should be careful. There is a strange tiger on the top of the mountain. Don't come close. Be cautious and run immediately, it will not chase."
Li Qinglin asked: "My little brother's surname is Qin?"
The teenager answered at will: "Qin Yi."
Li Qinglin introduced himself again and continued: "My brother went into the mountains to find immortals and listened to the woodcutter singing. It was very interesting. It is said that Brother Qin did it?"
"Oh, it has nothing to do with me when I heard it sung by Taoist Youfang in the early years."
"..." Li Qingjun had long felt that this young man of his own age could not be a sage. Hearing this, he said "Excuse me" and wanted to go up the mountain.
Li Qinglin suddenly said: "Looking at Brother Qin, he is a pharmacist? Are there all kinds of antidote? We want to buy a few pills."
Li Qingjun looked at his elder brother strangely. They have all kinds of preparations. What kind of medicine do they buy temporarily?
"There are no all kinds, one pill can be solved." Qin Yi dropped a cloth bag casually, "There are two pills, ten taels of silver."
Li Qingjun took the cloth bag, looked at the two red jujube-like pills inside, and sneered: "Where is there a pill that can cure hundreds of poisons? What kind of pill are you?"
His voice was crisp, and with such a sneer, the awe-inspiring awe-inspiring spirit faded away a lot, and he felt a little bit delicate.
Qin Yi stared at him for a while, then suddenly grinned: "This is called eating jujube pills."