The author of the book "The Book of the Dead"

Chapter 162: Gods Eat Qi, Metabolism of Ancient and Modern Times

Kuaiji.

An old man, a young boy and a dog were walking on the official road. The sun was scorching hot. They were a little thirsty, so they came to a teahouse and sat down.

Amid the hustle and bustle, the two of them appeared calm and peaceful, unconcerned with worldly affairs.

The people sitting closer to them heard their conversation and looked at them in surprise.

Judging from the old man’s conversation, this young man is the real elder.

What a strange combination.

"Waiter, give me a jar of sweet-scented osmanthus wine!" Li Chunfeng called the waiter, "two steamed buns, locust flower cakes, and two bowls of glutinous rice balls."

"coming!!"

After a while, the waiter came out with a large plate.

Li Chunfeng grabbed the wine jar, poured a large bowl of it, and drank it in big gulps.

I thought I would be very comfortable, but I didn't feel anything at all.

"Tasteless, boring. I loved this wine when I was young."

Li Chunfeng put down the bowl heavily, looking a little bored, and threw a piece of cake to Xiaotian.

I used to drink a jar of old wine all day long, but now I don’t have that leisurely feeling anymore.

"It's not like a young boy's trip."

Liang Yue said.

Li Chunfeng is 106 years old this year and is no longer the handsome young man he used to be.

"Does the Grandmaster feel this way, too?"

"Yes, I'm probably worse than you. Not only do I like alcohol, I also have no interest in food or opera."

The ancients said: Gods eat air, and ghosts eat candles.

Perhaps it is not that gods cannot eat. With the true Qi in a cultivator's body, digesting the impurities in the food is just a matter of a few cycles of true Qi circulation.

The taste of the food must be boring.

"After the master regained his youth, did this happen again?"

"Yes, but it's much better."

Liang Yue felt that in addition to mentality, it might also be related to physical condition.

As people age, they tend to get bored with things, so their attitude might be better when they are young.

This time I went back to the Tang Dynasty, in addition to seeing what the later generations had gained, I also wanted to regain my youthful mentality.

This is the meaning of picking up flowers at dusk.

After the realm is broken through, the internal force takes the shape of a pill in the dantian, locking the essence and energy tightly together, increasing the lifespan and starting to rejuvenate the body.

The rest of my life is just a waste of time.

"One hundred and fifty years, fifty years left..."

Fifty years is neither long nor short, and Liang Yue has not yet experienced the heyday of the Tang Dynasty, so he came to take a look and pick up something.

After they finished eating, they strolled along the way.

Liuzhuang was transformed into a town, and more than 30,000 descendants of the Liang family and their tribes lived together on this land.

The Liang family's old house is still occupied by descendants of the Liang family, and most of the place has been converted into Jingming Taoist temples.

The palaces and temples were crowded with people and pilgrims.

The twelfth Heavenly Master of Jingming Dao was a descendant of the Liang family. Looking from outside the door, the deity enshrined inside was the Taoist Lingbao Tianzun.

Liang Yue followed the crowd into the place, looked at the solemn statue, and said with a smile: "This statue... doesn't look like me."

The pilgrims nearby looked at Liang Yue in surprise and doubt, and quickly moved away, fearing that the gods would punish them and take their anger out on them.

There were also kind-hearted old men who reminded him, "Young man, don't speak too arrogantly. If you offend the gods, you will be struck by lightning."

"Okay, I know."

Liang Yue shook his head and laughed, then turned to look at Li Chunfeng. The old man started to worship with incense in his hand.

"Tieguai Li, what are you doing?"

"Worship God!"

"Haha. I'll come too!"

After paying homage to Lingbao Tianzun, the two men walked through the front hall and came to the scenic Jiangnan garden.

Winding paths lead to secluded places, willow trees surround the water, it is the best time of the year in the south of the Yangtze River, with a field of tobacco and the whole city filled with catkins.

Men of letters, monks, Taoists and common people strolled there in groups of two or three.

"This place was formerly known as Qingshan Garden. Many people from the Wang, Xie, Liang and Liu dynasties gathered here. Tao Yuanming often came here."

"Mr. Wu Liu has a calm temperament. I guess he loves this secluded place for spiritual practice." Li Chunfeng seemed to be there, returning to the time when his ancestors practiced in seclusion.

"No, Tao Yuanming was very poor at the time and he loved to travel around the world. He usually came to ask for money when he had no money."

"Is this true? Interesting, interesting. Haha."

The two of them strolled along the way.

Arriving at the waterside pavilion by the lake, we saw inscriptions by literati of past dynasties on the surrounding walls and pillars, and three or five literati were appreciating the inscriptions.

Liang Yue took a look and said, "There are not many famous ones."

Perhaps after the heyday of the Tang Dynasty, there should be poets and lyricists who take up their pens.

The premise is that this place is not destroyed.

But it shouldn't be destroyed, after all, it has become a sacred place of the Pure Brightness Path.

"Brother Shanbo, Brother Mengshan, Brother Youjun, long time no see!"

When the scholar next to him greeted him, Liang Yue almost thought he was being called, but it was only later that he realized what was happening.

The custom of naming children and grandchildren after ancient people’s names should have been born in the early Tang Dynasty. Of course, the real names of ancient people are usually not used, but their given names or pen names, such as Wu Liu, You Jun, Shan Bo, An Shi, etc.

Liang Yue is a symbol of local culture. According to conservative estimates, there are at least two-digit numbers of Shanbo.

The literati drank and wrote poems, leaving their works of calligraphy in Qingshan Garden just like their predecessors.

"Aoyama is still there, How Many Suns."

Everyone chanted ancient poems.

One of the men, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, wrote the article in one go, with his pen moving like a dragon.

"People and things are subject to change, and the past and present are connected. The mountains and rivers have left their beautiful sites, and we can visit them again... The Liang Gong stele is still there, and I shed tears after reading it."

He picked up the pen and signed his name - Meng Haoran.

"What a great poem! What a great poem! If the predecessors were still alive, they would definitely praise it highly!"

"Good! Quite the style of the famous scholars of the Wei and Jin Dynasties!"

Liang Yue stood there for a long time. The railing behind him was the Liang Zhu statue that was carved back then.

Hearing what everyone was saying, he laughed and said, "Why should we blindly worship the ancients? People today have their own character."

Compared with the pettiness of the Wei and Jin dynasties, he admired the heroism of the Tang Dynasty more, which was the spiritual force that shaped civilization.

"Who?"

When everyone heard this, they looked for him again but he was nowhere to be seen.

"People today have their own character..."

Meng Haoran kept thinking about these words, and his eyes gradually brightened.

He understood. "Go!"

"Where?"

"Jiangnan is a small-minded place. I want to go to Chang'an!!"

"It's not easy to live in Chang'an."

……

Jiankang City.

There are many tall pavilions, among which the nine-story red-painted and purple-gold-patterned building is particularly eye-catching.

This is Tongtian Tower, the headquarters of Tianxiahui.

The first floor of Tianxiahui, Jishi Building.

Wu Mingkong, then 84 years old, was treating a patient.

In the past, he was full of ambition and devoted himself to practicing martial arts. But now in his old age, he has become interested in medicine, which he himself looked down upon.

The female disciple Shangguan Wan'er helped on the side.

Wu Mingkong is an excellent doctor who can diagnose patients with the hanging thread. This is definitely not just a rare occasion when he has nothing to do, but he has put a lot of effort into this art.

Soon, all the patients disappeared.

"Master's medical skills have reached perfection. It's incredible." Shangguan Wan'er couldn't help but sigh.

Wu Mingkong put down the golden needle and rubbed his dry eyes.

Just as I was about to say something, I heard a man's praising voice next to me.

"You have grown up."

"who?"

Shangguan Wan'er's eyes were sharp. She turned her wrist and held a handful of golden needles in her hand, ready to strike.

A young man walked out of the darkness.

A black dog followed closely at the young man's feet.

Shangguan Wan'er's pupils narrowed. Could this person be a powerful figure from the Demonic Cult?
"Master?"

Wu Mingkong stood up suddenly, looked at the young man in front of him in disbelief, and said, "Master, is that you?"

"Master? You're back?"

Shangguan Wan'er couldn't believe it and looked at the young man in front of her.

My master is over eighty years old this year. Logically, the great master should be over a hundred years old. Why is he a young man?
Could it be that the master is the legendary god?
Wu Mingkong did not suspect anything and did not ask too many questions. She only knew that her master had returned.

"Mingkong, you did a great job!"

With one less emperor and one more martial arts supreme master, there was not so much killing in the temple. Although Li Chengqian was an mediocre conservative monarch, he at least ensured a smooth transfer of power and prevented so many brutal killings in history.

……

The top of Wuchang Pavilion is empty, and it is where the head of the sect practices martial arts.

The master and his apprentice, plus Li Chunfeng, tell what happened over the years.

"So it was Master who changed the name of Japan. No wonder the barbarians changed so quickly. Master, are you a descendant of the Liang family?" Wu Mingkong asked as he poured tea for them.

"That's it."

Liang Yue took a sip of hot tea.

Wu Mingkong continued to talk about what happened that year.

"The Tianxiahui unified the martial arts world. The disciples sent people to search all over the world, and used extraordinary means to seize treasures from other sects..."

As he spoke, he led the two of them to the lower level.

When the treasure house was opened, the aroma was overwhelming, and there were even more exotic flowers and plants, ancient weapons, and the rotting corpses of monks.

"There's really nothing left."

Liang Yue thought that, except for those that were particularly deeply hidden, most of the relics of gods and demons in Asia had been discovered.

All that's left are a few overseas states or the outer space.

Perhaps not much remains of the Earth itself.

The Earth was just a relatively remote place in ancient times. In the ancient world, the universe only had endless continents. In terms of the area of the Earth, it was equivalent to a reef in the vast ocean.

"My disciple discovered some strange writing in the Western Snow Region, but I cannot decipher it yet."

Wu Mingkong opened the jade box and took out a crystal plate.

Liang Yue swept his Dharma eyes around, and with his ability to see through everything he immediately deciphered the content.

The dark star is like a broom, the eastern blue dragon, in the Year of the Sheep, the secret of heaven is revealed, and the snowy land will rise again.

On top are the stars and the years.

Liang Yue roughly calculated that it should be 755, and now it is 708, so there are still years left.

What does this mean?

Could it be a relic that can only appear under a specific constellation?

Liang Yue put away the slate. He was 147 years old at that time and perhaps he was still alive.

Afterwards, Liang Yue took back the stone slab.

Time will tell.

Afterwards, Liang Yue stayed in Tongtian Pavilion for three days.

"Master, have you broken through to the Zhenwu realm?" Wu Mingkong asked.

"That's right?"

This realm has no name, but it's also good to call it Zhenwu.

"Bring me the pen, ink, paper and inkstone."