The Path Toward Heaven Chapter 5: 1 year

　　The green seedlings stretch their waists, and the distance between each plant is absolutely the same, perfect.

　　 No matter from which angle I look at it, the seedlings are in a straight line, and even the shadow on the water surface does not deviate in any way.

The greatest farmer in 　　shan village can't achieve this level.

　　 Looking at this picture, Liu Shisui's mouth could not be closed for a long time.

　　 The breeze is blowing, and the young crops are undulating, which is very beautiful.

　　 The white-clothed boy stood on the ridge, nodded slightly, somewhat satisfied with his own means, turned and walked backwards, lay down on the bamboo chair, and closed his eyes.

　　 Liu Shisui glanced at the sky and said, "My son, do you want to chop wood next?"

　　Because the white-clothed boy did not admit that he was a fairy teacher, after discussing it, the villagers decided to call each other the prince.

　　 "That's it." The boy in white said with his eyes closed.

　　 Liu Shisui didn't understand what he meant, and asked: "Or cook first?"

　　The white-clothed boy ignored him.

　　 Liu Shisui understood what he meant, but didn't understand why he changed his mind so quickly.

　　 "I just want to learn, I don't like it."

　　 The boy in white said: "Even if Huafan is really reasonable, it doesn't suit me."

　　 Liu Shisui didn’t understand, he just continued his words and asked: "Why?"

　　 The boy in white said: "Because I am lazy and not good at it."

　　 Liu Shisui was a little excited, and asked: "The son, what are you good at?"

　　 In the rumors of the small mountain village, the immortal masters in the Daqingshan are all gods who can wave their hands and lead thunder and fly swords into the air.

　　 The boy in white said, "Cut off."

　　Everything in the world has weaknesses.

　　 What he is best at is to find those weak points and then disconnect them.

　　 such as magic weapons, such as mountains, or whatever.

　　 Liu Shisui did not expect to hear such an answer, and was a little disappointed. He scratched his head and said, "No wonder you cut vegetables so well."

　　 There was a wind, and a leaf fluttered down. The stubble was very smooth, as if it were cut by a real sword.

　　 there are cicadas screaming.

　　 This should be the first cicada cry this year in a small mountain village.

　　 The boy in white opened his eyes and looked at the peaks hidden in the clouds.

　　 Liu Shisui picked up the fallen leaf, looked at his profile, and asked: "My son, what is your name?"

　　 The white-clothed boy was quiet for a while and said, "Jing Jiu."

　　"Jing Jiu?"

　　"Well, ninth."

　　"The well water does not offend the river water, is it not as good as it is?"

　　 "Have you read a book?"

　　 "There used to be a gentleman in the village. He left last year. I heard that he wanted to go to the county to take the exam for children."

　　 "I have read it too."

　　 "Huh?"

　　 "Ask me if you don't understand."

　　 "Thank you, son."

　　 "Hmm."

　　 Liu Shisui looked at the boy in white. He had looked at this face for nine days. He had resistance, but he still felt a little dazzling, so he subconsciously rubbed his eyes.

　　"Are you...in a bad mood?"

　　The boy in white clothes looked at the distant peaks in the fog and was silent for a long time, and suddenly said: "It's hard not to be annoying to keep doing the same thing."

　　 Liu Shisui thought for a while, and said, "If...that thing is eating meat."

　　……

　　……

　　 One year has passed very quickly, and deep spring will come again.

　　 For the white-clothed teenager who claimed to be Jing Jiu, the villagers were divided into two factions. One faction insisted that he was an immortal master from Daqingshan, and the other held that he was indeed not an immortal master, but rather from Fucheng, maybe even He was the fallen noble son of Chaoge in the capital, but there was one point that the two factions had exactly the same view, that is, they had never seen such a lazy person.

　　 This year, the villagers like to hang out near Liu's house--no matter what Jing Jiu's status is, they always like to see him. But no matter when people go, they will see Jing Jiu sleeping. If there is sun, he will sleep on the bamboo chair in the yard. If the weather is gloomy, he will sleep on the bed in the house. If the weather is too hot , He would move the bamboo chair to sleep under the tree by the pond. If it fell snow, he would move it back, but he wanted to leave the window open.

　　 After the first nine days, no one saw Jing Jiu doing even the simplest housework. Now Liu Shisui served him by making the bed, stacking the quilt, dressing and eating, and even he slept himself. That bamboo chair was also moved around by Liu Shisui.

　　 However, the villagers still respect Jing Jiu from the heart, because when the children in the village are studying, he will occasionally point out a few words. According to the children, Master Fairy’s knowledge is better than the previous one. Mr. is more than three hundred times more knowledgeable.

　　 The most important thing is that Jing Jiu is very rich, and he is very willing to spend money, although at the beginning, the villagers did not dare to ask for his money. The ancestral halls and fairy temples in the village were repaired with all his money. Now even the new road from the mountain village to the county seat has been repaired by more than half. How are the villagers not grateful to him, how do they disrespect him?

　　 "My son, be careful when you rest. Be careful not to fall into the pond again."

　　 Liu Shisui, carrying the branches picked from the mountain, looked at Jing Jiu lying on the bamboo chair, a little worried.

　　 such a thing happened once, he was severely taught by his father, saying that he did not serve a good teacher.

　　 Jing Jiu yelled while lying on the bamboo chair, not knowing whether it was responding to his words or the reason for resting too comfortably in the shade.

　　 should be the latter. He tapped the bamboo chair with his slender fingers, the rhythm was very random, without any regularity, giving people a lazy feeling.

　　 Liu Shisui hesitated for a while, and put down the branches on his back.

　　 He sat down leaning against the big tree, holding his knees, staring at the bamboo chair, and did not dare to relax for a moment.

　　He is eleven years old now, but he is still ten years old. Jing Jiu didn't seem to have the intention of changing his name. He thought it was because the son was too lazy.

　　No matter what his name is, he is still so honest and credible. Since he has promised his father to take good care of the son, he must do it.

　　 And the sound of Master Jing Jiu knocking on the chair is very funny. He doesn't know how to describe it in words, but he feels that his heart is getting more and more peaceful.

　　The mountain breeze is blowing gently on the water, the sun is gradually fading, and the night is getting thicker.

　　"The last two times, it was too early to exhale."

　　 Liu Shisui was slightly startled when he heard the words, then sober, and said: "I see."

　　 Jing Jiu opened his eyes and looked at the pond.

　　The night wind disappeared without a trace, and the surface of the water was calm, like a mirror.

　　 Looking at the face on the water, he didn't speak for a long time.

　　 This face is beautiful.

　　 This face is perfect.

　　 If the eyebrows are picturesque, the artist must be the best in thousands of years.

　　 Even he has never seen such a good-looking face in the countless spiritual world of handsome men and beauties.

　　 The starlight fell on this face, on the surface of the water, and the light moved slightly, giving this face a more dreamlike feeling.

　　 This is not the first time he has seen his face.

　　 When he saw this face by the pond at the time, he understood why the villagers reacted that way when he first arrived in the village, and then he firmly believed that he was a fairy master.

　　 can have such a face, no one will be dissatisfied, even if he is Jing Jiu.

　　 He just thought there was something weird.

　　 Looking at himself on the water, he raised his hand and touched his ear.

　　 Those are a pair of charming ears. Looking round, it is interesting that it is not ugly to match this face, but it is a bit cute.

　　 He understands why, but he is still a little uncomfortable.

　　 The night wind rose again, and the perfect face on the water was blown away, and the thoughts in his heart were blown away.

　　Everything is like a dream bubble, as if it was said by Junior Sister Lian in Shuiyue Temple.

　　 Jing Jiu lay back on the bamboo chair and wanted to drink water, but found that the kettle was in front of the chair and needed to sit up again, so he glanced at Liu Shisui.

　　 Liu Shisui squatted at the bottom of the tree, playing with the caterpillar with the roots of the grass, felt the eyes falling on him, raised his head to know what was going on, sighed, got up and walked to the bamboo chair and lifted the kettle. Pass it to Jing Jiu.

　　 Jing Jiu drank a bowl of water and closed his eyes again.

　　 Liu Shisui did not leave, so he squatted down by the bamboo chair, propped his chin with his hands, and looked at Jing Jiu's face in a daze, wondering why it was so beautiful?

　　 He sees too much, so unlike other villagers, he knows that this face has actually changed during the year, not the eyebrows, but... the temperament?

The son of 　　 is not as staying as he was at the beginning, his eyes are more agile, and he is more angry. In fact, he talks a lot more than before.

　　 Jing Jiu closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again after three breaths.

　　 Liu Shisui was a little surprised. In the past year, whether he was asleep, rested, or dormant, he never opened his eyes so quickly.

　　 "What are you doing?"

　　 Jing Jiu looked at the stars in the night sky and said: "I'm deducing the next three years."

　　Yiu Shisui scratched his head, thinking what do you do when you sleep every day?

　　 Jing Jiu seemed to know what he was thinking, and said: "I'm deducing for the next three thousand years."

　　 Liu Shisui opened his eyes wide and said, "Three thousand years?"

　　 Jing Jiu asked: "If you think hard, exhaust your mind, and spend countless hours writing an excellent article, you feel that you will never be able to write such a good article in this life, but you accidentally let the paper fall. Into the stove and burned to ashes, what do you think?"

　　 Liu Shisui was stunned before reacting. He touched his chest with his right hand and said, "I don't dare to think, I feel distressed when I think about it."

　　"It's not pain, it's pain." Jing Jiu was quiet for a while, and said, "It's painful."

　　The kind of pain people who have not experienced it will not be able to understand.

　　 I want to be in pain.

　　 But it’s a painful experience. What else can I do except rewrite that article again?

　　 Liu Shisui said sympathetically: "That person can only rewrite it."

　　 Jing Jiu said, "Yes, what else can I do except rewrite?"

　　 Liu Shisui thought of something, and said anxiously: "But what should I do if I can't remember the wonderful words and sentences in the original article, as well as those subtle allusions?"

　　 "It doesn't matter if you can't remember it~ IndoMTL.com~ How can those words and allusions really be wonderful?"

　　 Jing Jiu looked at the peaks in the night mist and said: "Write it again, it must be a better article."

　　 Liu Shisui thought for a while, but didn’t know if it made sense, thinking about the previous dialogue, and curiously asked: "My son, what have you done? What will happen to the rain in the next three years?"

　　 Jing Jiu's line of sight fell in a wood not far away, and said: "I only calculated that the time is up."

　　 is tonight.

　　 The night breeze rises, plain clothes fluttering, and a middle-aged cultivator with a sense of otherworldliness falls to the ground, with a long sword behind him.

　　 Liu Shisui was taken aback and hid behind the bamboo chair.

　　 The middle-aged cultivator's gaze fell on Jing Jiu's body, his sword eyebrows raised slightly, it seemed a little surprised.

　　……

　　……

　　 (I won’t ask the question so early, but the matter of rewriting the article is indeed a very important thing in the first half of this story. For our author, this is a painful pain, because the computer crashed, because of the power outage, because of the cat, Because of my wife, and because of various or even bizarre reasons that were ridiculed by readers, we have indeed lost a lot of manuscripts. I believe most authors have this experience. That is the time when we are most painful, the degree of pain and loss. The number of words in the document is proportional, or geometric. At this time, there is no other way but to comfort each other. In the past few years, my friends and I have encountered this situation and used Jing Jiu’s sentence in the article to comfort and encourage ourselves. Cheer up, that’s our truth-if you lose it, you can’t remember the plot, and that plot is not qualified to stay in our novel. The only thing that can be remembered is good, and rewriting will inevitably lead to better The article, this is the truth, but... I hope that all authors do not need to experience such a thing, yeah.)