No, gentlemen also guard against

Chapter 801: Don’t ask the people, ask the sky

"What do you want to do, sir?"

Wei Shaoqi shouted anxiously towards Ouyang Rong's back.

The sky was filled with thunder and lightning, and everyone on the field had a gloomy heart. They were very puzzled by the behavior of the young man in Confucian robes.

Xue Zhongzhu frowned tightly, staring at the black clouds that were completely different from the thunder clouds in her impression, and felt a little at a loss.

The time when she was protecting Second Junior Sister, although the thunderclouds were strong, they did not have such a world-destroying power. She thought she could still control it, and she could even make the situation chaotic and take advantage of it.

But after using that last useless pill, the situation of the thunder tribulation was far beyond her expectations.

Xue Zhongzhu would never have imagined that there would be so many "dirty things" on the field today that were not tolerated by God.

One thing overcomes another.

The heavenly thunder is specifically designed to restrain things that go against the norm, such as the reincarnation of the dead and paper people. Even if someone is as strong as Cui Hao or Tao Yuanming, if too much of their aura is revealed, they will attract the heavenly thunder. It's just that they have hidden it well before. However, if they stay for too long, it will always come.

The blonde lady didn't know this, and for a moment, there was some frustration in the depths of her green eyes.

Wu Daozi's face was serious, and he said quickly:

"Don't be impulsive, sir. This thundercloud is rare in decades, and it is beyond the power of one person. Now that the Confucian amnesty order has been lifted, there is no escape. Xiao Wei's suggestion is indeed useless. Now we can only try to survive."

After a pause, the old man with narrowed eyes cast his gaze towards the bronze scroll in Ouyang Rong's hand, pointed at it and said:

"The most urgent thing is to cooperate and withstand the thunder. Can you return this fake Ding sword? I have experience with the eldest lady. With the help of this fake Ding sword, we can resist the thunder. We don't ask to withstand the main thunder, but only to avoid the sharp edge and resist the remaining thunder after it strikes."

Perhaps because of the collapse of the Buddha, the most hostile and stubborn Snow Candle did not stop Wu Daozi's appeasement and remained silent.

"Mr. Wu is right, Your Excellency, calm down..."

Wei Shao and Wu Daozi looked at Ouyang Rong eagerly.

But the young man in Confucian robes walked slowly forward, without looking back, and ignored him.

The same thing happened on the high platform. After breaking up with the crazy woman Nanny Song, Yi Qianqiu, Old Yang and others first surrounded and controlled Nanny Song.

Right now, they can only place all their hopes on Ouyang Rong.

But the old musician's words dealt a heavy blow to everyone:
"It's useless. This is the Nine-fold Heavenly Thunder. When I was traveling north, I passed through the deep mountains and saw the Taiqing Taoist priests from Longhu Mountain helping a rare Taoist priest to survive the thunderstorm. It was the Three-fold Heavenly Thunder at that time. Even so, all the talismans and treasures were used on the way. In the end, the Taoist priest's body was struck by the thunder and he was seriously injured. Fortunately, he had prepared the purple pill from Gezhao Mountain that could turn human flesh and bones into life. Only then was he able to survive the thunderstorm and break through the realm...

"This is the Dragon and Tiger Mountain Heavenly Master Mansion, which is the best at thunder magic in the world, and it's only the power of the third level of thunder."

The old musician sighed and shook his head:

"We are now in the ninth level of thunder, and a fake Ding Sword won't work. I have been a swordsman for many years, and I know it best. Perhaps by mobilizing the Peach Blossom Sword Formation, we can withstand a level of thunder tribulation. There are examples of swordsmen using Ding Swords to withstand thunder tribulation. But now there are nine levels of thunder, can we still take out nine Ding Swords at once? Not to mention that each level is stronger than the last, and we won't be able to catch up later."

The whole place was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, and only the old musician's words echoed.

Afterwards, the atmosphere became dead silent.

Wu Daozi also gradually closed his mouth.

Xue Zhongzhu's face turned blue and purple.

Given their level of understanding, they were of course aware that the old musician was telling the truth, but they had only held out a glimmer of hope before that.

Wei Shaoqi and Du Shuqing turned around and understood the expressions of Wu and Xue. They knew what these meant and their faces turned pale.

An atmosphere of despair gradually spread across the field.

Perhaps it was because of hearing these words, but everyone saw that the young man in Confucian robes in front of them slowly stopped, without looking back, and slightly raised his head, as if he was looking at the nine-layer dark thundercloud that was about to overwhelm everything.

Seeing that the almost invincible figure today also stopped, it seemed to confirm the old musician's words.

There are no more illusions on the field.

Yi Qianqiu, Old Yang and the few female officials and soldiers in the audience gave up resistance.

As if giving up on oneself, either standing or sitting in the same place.

The same is true for Wei Shaoqi and Du Shuqing.

At this critical moment, the imperial court and the rebels have completely ceased hostilities. They will die together anyway. The accumulated fatigue from today's battle began to sweep over them, making them tired both mentally and physically.

Wei Shaoqi lowered his head and coughed violently again, then took away the handkerchief covering his mouth and smiled at Du Shuqing:
"No matter who did it, at least the Buddha has collapsed. This trip is not a shame to Lord Yan."

Du Shuqing was silent for a moment, then turned his head silently and stared at the slender back of the young man in Confucian robes in front of him.

The old musician simply sat on the ground, not at all bothered by the dirty mud, and placed the one-stringed harp on his knees.

His expression was calm as he reached out and touched the moist and fertile red soil that was unique to the south.

The old man nodded slightly, as if to say...it's also a kind of returning home.

Old Yang also sat on the ground. He first took off the blue robe of the executioner that he had worn for most of his life, took out a thin Confucian booklet from his arms, wet his fingers with saliva, turned the pages, and began to read with relish in the last bit of daylight before the dark clouds completely covered the sky.

He liked a sentence in a reply letter from the teacher in Luoyang:

As you hear the news, you can die in the evening.

It is never too late to study when you are old, and it is even less late three moments before your death.

The other old man on the field, Wu Daozi, had only half of his paper body left, and his expression could not be seen clearly.

The squinting-eyed old man turned his head silently, as if looking at his disciple Yuan Huaimin.

Yuan Huaimin, Yan Liulang, the Fang sisters and others were standing near the platform.

After watching for a long time like an unknown person, no matter how stupid they were, they understood the current situation.

Except for the blue-robed constable who still stubbornly believed in the Ming Mansion and stood there with his knife in his hand and his head held high, Fang Shengnan looked a little flustered. She raised her sleeves and lowered her head, her eyes lost for a while, then suddenly turned around and hugged her sister into her arms. Fang Shengnan was stunned for a moment, then she also hugged her sister tightly, leaned on her shoulder, and said with a tearful voice:

"Sister, mother is right again."

Fang Juxiu, with a sour nose, tried to calm his tone and asked in confusion: "W-what did you say?"

"When she was a child, she said that children who disobeyed and ran outside would be struck by lightning. Sister, why is mother always right?"

Fang Juxiu: ...

Yan Liulang: ...

Yuan Huaimin had left them at some point, lifted the hem of his robe, and quickly walked up to the platform.

He, who was never on time and never in tune, came to the trembling Yi Qianqiu and stood shoulder to shoulder with her.

No more lateness this time.

Yuan Huaimin turned his head and looked at Qiu Niang seriously. He reached out and took off the heavy weapon in her hand and threw it aside.

He bumped into Yi Qianqiu's tall shoulder in a childish way. Yi Qianqiu was tall and strong, like a big and strong man, while Yuan Huaimin was tall and thin. When the two stood together, Yuan Huaimin looked like a lively "young wife".

Yi Qianqiu suddenly said: "Don't you hate me for making those private arrangements?"

Yuan Huaimin thought for a moment and said shyly, "Not happy, but... quite happy."

Yi Qianqiu was stunned. Rong Zhen, who had been standing on the platform for a long time, suddenly shouted:
"You come back, you are not allowed to go."

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw the girl in purple palace dress lift up the hem of her skirt with both hands after she finished speaking, then ran off the stage and ran towards Ouyang Lianghan.

She came to him with her long black hair draped over her shoulders.

There is a big difference in height between them, the girl is petite and the boy is tall and straight.

But in the eyes of everyone in the audience, one was like the bright moon in one's arms, and the other was like a lush forest of bamboo, both of which were beautiful scenery in the world.

Wei Rong, the Immortal Princess of the Great Zhou Dynasty, looked up and handed over a jade mandarin duck hairpin that was very popular in Xunyang:

"Ouyang Lianghan, please help me put my hair down with this hairpin, and I will help you put on your clothes, okay..."

She paused, and said the last three words with extreme tenderness:
"OK."

Ouyang Rong hung the wine gourd back on his waist, his eyes regained calmness, he turned his head and looked at the lady historian who was always serious, focused on her appearance and seemed cold.

He looked again at the hairpin in her little hand, which she was holding tightly as if it were a treasure.

He pursed his lips.

Rong Zhen did not avoid any gazes this time. She met his gaze, ignoring the looks of the people around her, and smiled sweetly with her teeth as white as pearls:

"My mother loves to miss you. A gentleman loves a beautiful lady. She often misses me and says that my father is a true gentleman, not good at speaking, down-to-earth and simple. He was exiled 3,000 miles away but never let go of us mother and daughter. Like Longcheng, it was also a remote county. He died of illness while in office. My mother said that she had implicated my father, so my mother never returned to Luoyang until her death. She handed me over to the palace maids in Luoyang. She supported her sick body and shaved my face for the last time for my coming-of-age ceremony. When she was applying the yellow flower in front of the bronze mirror, she whispered in my ear, "Fix your appearance and meet your beloved..." Three days after I left, she also shaved her appearance and went to meet her beloved."

Ouyang Rong calmed down for a moment, took the mandarin duck jade hairpin in his hand, and looked at Rong Zhen, who was not afraid of life or death and had no regrets.

He didn't say anything, but Rong Zhen knew what he meant.

Rong Zhen tilted his head slightly and pointed his index finger behind him:

"It's all the same. It's always there."

I don't know if she was referring to the names of the two people who supervised the construction of the giant Buddha engraved on the lotus inscription on the dome, or to the entire Xunyang Grottoes which was completed without the Buddha.

Maybe it's both.

Just like everyone else on the field who began to explain their affairs and put an end to their regrets, Rong Zhen took the initiative to take a step forward, almost leaning into Ouyang Rong's arms, tiptoeing a little higher, her little hand was about to touch the collar of his scholar's shirt... Ouyang Rong suddenly put away the mandarin duck jade hairpin with his backhand, and said:
"Wait a moment."

Rong Zhen paused and saw Ouyang Rong suddenly turned around and asked the old musician:

"Are you also a sword bearer?"

From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he was hearing this for the first time.

The old musician was stunned for a moment, raised his hand and touched his thin head with sparse white hair, his eyes were filled with reminiscence:

"Yes."

Ouyang Rong shook his head and said very seriously:
"No, you are not the Sword Bearer, and neither are you."

Everyone, including the old musician, Wei Shaoqi, and Rong Zhen, opened their mouths.

After saying this, the young man in scholarly robes turned around, turned his back to Rong Zhen and the others, and continued walking forward.

At this moment, the thunderclouds have arrived and gathered, pressing down on the top of the main cave, like a pitch-black mountain.

Compared to the silver lightning visible to the naked eye, the thunder was slow to come.

"Boom-thump-thump-"

In the silence of the whole audience, the young man in scholar's robe strode forward and tapped the wine gourd with his palm, making some rhythmic sounds. Some people suddenly felt that the rhythm was vaguely consistent with the heartbeat, and they didn't know if it was an illusion.

He tapped the gourd, wondering what he was thinking.

The sound of clap-gourds, which coincided with the heartbeat, was like a heavy drum hitting everyone's heart. Everyone on the field looked at the back of the young man in Confucian robes, holding their breath unconsciously, waiting for the thunderbolt of judgment that would destroy the world to fall!
Ouyang Rong had a calm expression. He first tilted his head to glance at the "little transparent" white sturgeon that was jumping around at his feet, then adjusted the eighteen seeds in his palm and opened the bronze scroll.

A Peach Blossom Spring comes to life on the paper.

Ouyang Rong picked up something from the painting with two fingers.

A thin and thin shadow.

Three hundred years later, the legendary sword master flicked [Han Shi] and threw it into the sky.

A sky-blue sword shadow flew up and came to the side of [Craftsman] who had been quietly wielding the sword for a long time.

[Craftsmanship] is shrouded in the clear blue fire of the cauldron.

The shadow of [Han Shi]'s sword also enveloped the sky-blue shadow of the cauldron fire.

I saw that the two things, one real and one virtual, attracted each other like magnets and merged into one.

The sky-blue sword energy and the clear blue sword energy also merged together.

It presents a dreamy tone with water and sky blending into one.

Smoky blue.

The smoky green cauldron fire grew larger. Even the strong wind in the sky could not shake it at all. The flame of the cauldron fire seemed to be motionless.

At this moment, Ouyang Rong stopped beating the gourd and suddenly opened his mouth to ask everyone:

"Do you know why [Hanshi] has no handle and is always hanging upside down in the air?" Without waiting for the others to answer, he asked and answered himself, as if talking in a dream: "Because Hanshi never points his sword at the common people, but only at the sky, and he only asks the sky."

Today, the sword has been in place for a long time, but the arc has finally fallen.

Not falling to the earth, but falling to the sky.

In everyone's pupils, an arc was reflected, rising into the sky, a scene of moving forward courageously.

Go home.

This time, it did not use swords against the people on the earth.

The poor scholar has no handle and hangs the rainbow upside down. He does not ask about the common people but only about the sky.

Seeing such a shocking scene, some people reacted belatedly. When the young man in Confucian robes laid the sword and asked Xue Zhongzhu for the sword, after the [Arc] laid the sword, it seemed to go from bottom to top. This time was the same, but the enemy was no longer Xue Zhongzhu falling from the sky, but the thunder from the sky!

This is the sword of the legendary swordsman.

Under the mighty thunderclouds.

A blue-green sword light as thin as a hair collided with the first bolt of lightning that fell from the black clouds.

The next moment, the whole world became three points brighter.

The lightning and sword shadows at this moment illuminated the faces of those looking up in the main cave.

There were nine flashes of lightning in succession, filling the entire sky and earth.

The nine arcs of lightning were much faster than the roaring thunder of the God. They arrived one after another... Witnessing this unforgettable scene in their lives, everyone in the audience forgot to count their heartbeats and only felt as if nine beats were stolen from their heartbeats. They kept looking up and stood there like statues.

Seeing the lightning was like watching a pantomime, and hearing the thunder came three quarters of an hour late.

(End of this chapter)