Food gives me an entry, I will be invincible if I stay alive

Chapter 73 He is dust!
Chen Xu stopped in front of the stall owner who cut off Wei Tang's roots.

This action was like a drop of water suddenly falling into a hot oil pan, the oil pan exploded instantly, and the silence in the whole place was broken in an instant.

The people who were almost speechless after being shocked by the sentence "There is no idle land in the world, yet farmers still starve to death" finally reacted.

Someone exclaimed, "Brother Chen, no!"

This stall owner is not as easy to talk to as the other stall owners. He is extremely cruel. Just look at Wei Tang, who is still lying on the ground, defeated like a bunch of dry grass, and you can imagine how vicious and fierce this ghost is.

But just because some ghosts say a few nice words to you, you can't really think that all ghosts are easy to get along with.

"Brother Chen, please think twice."

Some people looked at Chen Xu anxiously, while others looked at the moon in the sky anxiously.

By this time, everyone in the room, except Feng Xi, had already "bought" something at the ghost market.

Including Wei Tang who fell to the ground. Although he lost his foundation, he actually "bought" something.

Almost no one wants Chen Xu to make a mistake. They just hope that he can write a few more good poems that come alive on paper and lead everyone away from this damn place in one go!

Of course, Feng Xi is an exception.

He couldn't get out anyway, so he mocked: "Some people, after writing one or two good poems, think they have unlimited poetic talent and become arrogant.

Even if you can compose a poem in seven steps like the ancient sages, can you also create clouds and mist in every poem?"

He gasped and laughed.

The crowd either glared at him or tried to dissuade him, and there was another commotion and noise.

Chen Xu, however, ignored all the noise and clamor and said to the stall owner, "Miss, I want to buy this item. I have a poem for you. Please comment on it."

He pointed to the [Tear of the Resentful Soul] on the stall that looked like a dark blue crystal bead.

The ghost stall owner said nothing and silently took out the pen, ink, paper and inkstone from under his stall.

Then he quietly cleared the stall and pushed the paper and pens, which were obviously of high quality, in the direction of Chen Xu.

Then he finally uttered two words: "You write it."

The voice sounded like the chirping of an oriole, but the tone was very cold and quiet, which was indeed very different from that of other ghost stall owners.

Chen Xu picked up his pen and dipped it in ink.

Behind him, the voices that were originally advising him to think twice or arguing with Feng Xi all stopped.

Some people were extremely anxious and sighed, but they could do nothing.

Finally, both the dead and the living fell silent.

Pairs of eyes turned to Chen Xu, and some shadows stretched their necks and leaned forward, almost floating towards the stall of the evil ghost stall owner.

Of course, they seemed to be restricted by some rules, and in fact no one could really leave their stall.

Under the moonlight, the only sound left was the faint rustling of Chen Xu's pen.

He wrote:

"The flower is not a flower, the fog is not a fog. It comes at midnight and leaves at dawn."

When writing these two lines, the stall owner was silent at first, and unlike the female official stall owner before her, she did not follow Chen Xu's brushstrokes and recite the poem aloud.

Until the pen strokes flow like mountains and rivers, spouting words and overflowing with the fragrance of poetry.

The ghost stall owner suddenly floated his body, leaned forward suddenly, and said in a trembling voice:
"How long does it take for it to come like a spring dream? It leaves like a morning cloud, nowhere to be found."

The sound was as gentle as the cry of an oriole, but it seemed to carry an electric current coming from the chaos, almost blowing off the tops of the heads of everyone present.

The whole place was silent, and no one seemed to understand what the ghost stall owner was saying.

Until she repeated it again:
"The flower is not a flower, the fog is not a fog. It comes at midnight and leaves at dawn.

How long does it take to come like a spring dream? How long does it take to go like a morning cloud? ... "

Before she finished her words, her entire shadow fell to the ground, her misty body leaning against the stall, completely limp.

“The flower is not a flower, the fog is not a fog… How long will it take for this spring dream to come true?” She recited, the emotions in her voice gradually changing until this moment, when it finally overflowed: “It turns out that everything in the world is just an illusion. When I am prosperous, I am not prosperous; when I am lonely, I am not lonely.

I can't keep anything. It comes at midnight and goes at dawn. Flying flowers and magical dreams are my life!

But, but... can I release all the sufferings in my life as mist?"

She laughed softly and cried softly.

As she spoke, sobbing and complaining, after Chen Xu put down his pen, the blue clouds of mist finally condensed on the paper where the poem was written.

It seems ethereal, but it is actually rich.

It whistled and circled, then rushed forward.

The blue smoke collided with the moonlight, and the slanting pale moonlight seemed to be hit by a huge wave and fell like a meteor in an instant.

"The moonlight has fallen!" Someone in the crowd finally reacted and exclaimed.

The moon is finally about to set. Is the ghost market finally going to disappear?
The anxious people focused their eyes on each other, wishing they could fly to the sky and help Qingyan pull the moonlight down from the sky completely.

However, the moonlight had already fallen to the horizon, and seemed about to fall completely at any moment. Yet, it just hung there diagonally, cold and gloomy, as if it was about to fall, and refused to fall completely.

"Oh..." someone sighed in frustration.

Amidst the noise, there are naturally people who are silently savoring the song "Flowers Are Not Flowers".

"Coming like a spring dream, going like morning clouds..." I am actually crazy.

On the long street, paper lanterns swayed quietly.

The skeleton female ghost standing gracefully at the end of the shadow also sighed softly.

Behind the stall, the ghost stall owner raised his empty, shadowy head and asked Chen Xu, "Are you trying to persuade me to let go? But letting go is so hard. What should I do if I can't do it?"

Chen Xu said: "Have those who betrayed you in the past disappeared now?"

"This... After I died, I turned into a vengeful ghost. I was going to fly a thousand miles to seek revenge on that ungrateful person, but I was blocked by the underworld halfway. After getting lost for a while, I unexpectedly ended up in this ghost market."

The ghost stall owner murmured, "I don't know what happened to him now, but I've been dead for a hundred years, so he must be dead too. Haha..."

When talking about the other party's death, the owner of the evil ghost stall couldn't help laughing.

Chen Xu said, "I have a humble opinion that I can share with you. The first death of a living being is the death of the body, the second death is the extinction of the soul, and the third death is the cessation of all life.

The vast majority of people in the world cannot leave their names in history. It may not take a hundred years after their death, but perhaps twenty or thirty years, for them to be forgotten.

The girl actually remembered him for a hundred years, so wouldn't that extend his life by a hundred years?"

The ghost stall owner was stunned for a moment, and his black mist-like body suddenly shook like ripples.

"I, I..." She couldn't speak.

Chen Xu said, "The young lady lived a long life, but he vanished into thin air. Shouldn't this be a relief?"

The ghost stall owner cried out "Woo", then laughed after crying: "Ha, ha ha ha, yes, I should be happy!"

"Dare you ask the girl her name?"

"Ah, I... It's been so many years, I actually forgot. I actually had a name when I was at home. My parents called me Zhenniang..."

"This poem is 'Presented to Zhenniang'. Zhenniang will live forever, but that person is just a speck of dust in the long river of history."

As soon as he finished speaking, the moonlight in the sky suddenly fell down.

I have received monthly tickets and comments from many fellow Taoists. Thank you very much! I have read every one of them. Space is limited here, so I cannot thank them one by one. I have no way to repay them. I can only polish my work and hope to write better and live up to everyone's love.

——

This chapter's poem is from Bai Juyi's "Flowers Are Not Flowers." This poem is steeped in legend, with some claiming it was written for prostitutes, others that it reflects Bai Juyi's own personal feelings, and is rich in metaphors. The poem's language is simple, yet its meaning is profound, a poem worth sharing with you.

Thanks!

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(End of this chapter)