Yu Wu

Gu Mang didn't speak, his blue eyes looked at his black eyes, and the incense ash silently brushed around them.

Jiang Yexue's sigh seemed to ring in his ears again, Jiang Yexue told him——

"The year Lord Fu Ling left, Mo Xi was only seven years old."

"Betrayed by the deputy commander, the body and head were separated, and the spirit core was stripped from the body. In the unsent letter, it was written that Qi said that he had no clothes and was in the same robe as his son."

"You did almost the same thing as him, how can you ask Mo Xi to forgive you?"

The wind blows away the soot, and the incense is misty.Gu Mang murmured in a low voice: "Mo Xi, I think, I also... don't want to fight."

When he said this, for some reason, his throat was sour, almost choked up.Although he didn't remember it, he felt that what he said was sincere.

It was Mo Xi who didn't understand him, it was Mo Xi who misunderstood him.

How could he like to fight... So many people died, corpses piled up with blood, and once the battle is over, the bones will be wiped out.How could he like it.

He was not fighting for the sake of standing up, not for fame, not for his own way out - otherwise he would not see so many ghosts, he would not see them questioning him and blaming him.He has been living in sin.

"I know... how you feel."

I understand how you feel about losing your father.

I understand...

Mo Xi didn't say a word.

In front of his father's tomb, he didn't want to argue. He used to believe that Gu Mang regarded human life and friendship as the most important thing, but now he only thinks Gu Mang's words are ridiculous.A person who said "don't miss old love too much", a person who can point a sharp knife at his former siblings for revenge, how can he understand his feelings?

He was different from Gu Mang, he couldn't let go of his old love from the bottom of his heart, as if until now, he still didn't like to smell the sweet scent of osmanthus in full bloom.

It's as if he can't forget all kinds of things about his father when he was alive, even though he was so young at that time.But as long as he thinks, he can see the scenes of the past as soon as he closes his eyes.

Seeing Mo Qingchi standing under the laurel tree, his back was tall and straight.

He couldn't even like his own weapon, because after so many years, he still couldn't forget the sentence he once asked his father - "Daddy, what are your weapons made of?"

Like a curse.

Mo Xi looked at the line of golden words "Fuling Lord Mo Qingchi, the heroic spirit rests forever", and he could easily outline every plant and tree in the backyard of the Mo Mansion back then.And the agreement he had with his father.

He closed his eyes and said, "You won't understand me."

Since he was seven years old, he has understood what war means.At the cruelest price—his father's life.

At that time, Mo Xi was young and inexperienced. At the beginning, the child didn't know what war meant. He only thought it was very powerful. He only felt that the pleasure of fighting and killing was indescribably attractive, so he pestered his father to ask about it. , almost all about weapons.

He likes the way his father looks in military uniform, his military appearance is solemn and imposing.

He likes his father to go to the battlefield. In his heart, his father will not lose. The flames of war bring only supreme glory to the Mo family.

He was too naive after all.

Little did he know what the flames of war would take away from him.

As for Mo Qingchi, at that time, he probably felt that talking about the morality of life and death was too heavy for a young child, so he replied with a smile: "Father has two, one is forged by the soul of reckless, it is ours. The Mo family's family-inherited weapon will also be passed on to you in the future. The other one is what my father got when he was young and just entered the cultivation school."

Mo Xi was full of admiration, raised his head and clutched his father's sleeve and said, "I want to see, I want to see!"

Mo Qingchi stood under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree, picked up the fine flowers on the corner of Mo Xi's forehead, raised his palm, and said with a smile: "Xiaoyue, call me."

A golden ray of light flew out from his hand, and the dots of aura merged into the shape of a sperm whale, swimming leisurely past the osmanthus tree, with a sweep of its tail, the garden was filled with osmanthus rain in an instant.

The little child stood at his father's lap, looking up with wide black eyes in amazement.

"Turn into a blade." Mo Qingchi gave an order, and the spirit body of the sperm whale quickly turned into a golden shield, which was held in Mo Qingchi's hand. Mo Qingchi lowered his head and smiled at his son, "Xiaoyue is a whale spirit that has become fine. Forged from the nucleus, after turning into a blade, it is a shield. This is Dad's second weapon."

Envious and curious at the same time, he stretched out his hand and touched the shield carefully.

"So the weapons used by monks are all spirit bodies?"

"Almost all of them." Mo Qingchi laughed, "Bronze and iron weapons often can't withstand spiritual flow, and they can't be bonded and summoned. They must be by their side at all times. So no one will choose Fantie."

At that time, Mo Xi half understood what he heard, blinked his eyes ignorantly, and looked at the shield again: "Father, will I have one too?"

"You are the only son of the Mo family, and you will enter the Cultivation Academy in the future, of course you will."

Mo Xi's mood jumped up all of a sudden, as a newborn calf, he didn't feel awe of weapons and death, he just felt that this was very powerful, and he would step on a war horse like his father in the future, and fight north and south.

At that time, he hadn't gone through life and death, but recklessly and ignorantly thought that he would love that kind of bloody life.

The longbow broke through the wind and snow, and the horse leather shrouded the corpse.

What a dream of a hero.

Mo Xi couldn't help but raised his hand to touch his father's shield, his eyes sparkled, and he asked, "Then what will mine be? Could it be a big fish like daddy?"

Mo Qingchi lowered his body, trying to be as level as possible with his son, and touched his soft black hair with a smile: "The elders of the academy will give you an assignment, and in that assignment, you will summon the one who is closest to your soul." A divine weapon. Yes, you may get a big fish like your father, or it may be something else, birds and beasts, spirit trees and flowers, all are possible."

"Is it available once you enter the academy?"

"It's almost like this." Mo Qingchi laughed.

"Then let's go to the Cultivation Academy quickly!" He tugged on his father's clothes and said anxiously, "How about we go tomorrow?"

"Haha, not tomorrow. At least until you are seven years old. Children younger than seven years old will not be accepted in the academy." Mo Qingchi said patiently, "When you are seven years old, daddy will invite you to play your majesty. You are allowed to enter the palace. Then you can accept the commission, and after completing the commission, our fireball will be a real little monk."

He, who is not familiar with the world, was showing a happy expression, suddenly seemed to think of something, was startled, hesitated and said: "Father..."

"Ok?"

"Is that appointment difficult? Will I fail and be kicked back?" The four or five-year-old child was worried after all.

"No." Mo Qingchi said with a smile, "An appointment that a fool can pass, you can pass it lying down, you can pass it with your eyes closed, you don't have to be afraid at all." After a pause, he suddenly patted his head, "Yes Now, there will be a senior brother or senior sister accompanying you, and if there is any difficulty, they will help you."

Only then did he feel relieved.He was fascinated by his father's words, and it seemed that he wished he could grow up quickly so that he could have a weapon of his own as soon as possible.

Father said that he would take him there when he was seven years old.

So he looked forward to it every day, looking forward to it, counting the days and looking forward to the age of seven.I even took a Chonghua calendar, and every day before I went to bed, I carefully wrote down a stroke on the calendar.

Every time he writes down a stroke, it seems that he is one step closer to his dream of God of War.He loved to fight, he couldn't wait to get his weapons, improve his skills, grow up, and fight alongside his father--what a joy.

Later, when the Liao Kingdom invaded, Mo Qingchi took command as usual and rushed to the battlefield.

That year, Mo Xi finally looked forward to his seven years old.

But what he was looking forward to was not Lingwu, nor enrolment, but a piece of military report for thousands of miles in Guanshan. Before he could realize what life and death meant, the Mo mansion was already covered with white silk, and the palace bell was ringing.

"Lord Fuling is dead—!"

The whole city mourned, and the paper money fell to the ground, like a heavy snow that has not melted for years.

Everyone was crying, people they knew, people they didn't know, people they saw familiarly, people they met a few times, group after group of people came to Mo's house to shed tears and sacrifice wine. Tiger Wolf Heart's uncle also acted in a state of sympathy at the time, mourning the funeral of his brother-in-law.Everyone is dressed in sackcloth and filial piety, and even the king is dressed in white when he comes up.

"If I lose Fuling, it's like losing my heart..." Laojun rested his head on the coffin, tearing up and down, and said in a choked voice, "Yuyou heaven, why are you so weaker than me!"

The officials even knelt down, crying loudly.

Outside the main hall, the sacrificed gold, silver and ingots were piled high. The high priest blew the horn of the yak, and a golden light floated out from the coffin. The little golden light turned into a swimming whale, lingered in the hall for several times, and swam out of the court. .

The sweet-scented osmanthus trees outside the court have long lost their sweet-scented osmanthus flowers. Big fish swim by, and the scene of the garden full of sweet-scented osmanthus is no longer there.

It rushed up to the sky and returned from the sea of ​​clouds.

"Shenwu has been solved." The high priest sang, knelt down and kowtowed, "Soul Xi——An Ning—"

Everyone cried and worshiped: "Mr. Fuling is a hero."

"The Return of the Heroic Spirit—"

Among this group of white ghosts and monsters, only Mo Xi didn't cry, he knelt there without saying a word, watching blankly and dazedly.who went?

who died...

Who are the heroes?

Who is Heroic Spirit?

What does it mean to be a hero?The two words he had heard in his ears since he was a child suddenly became so strange because of his father's death.

What is the word that he once thought was dazzling, and the battlefield that he once yearned for infinitely?

"The return of the heroic spirit—the soul of Changning—"

No no, he shuddered suddenly.He doesn't want heroes, he doesn't want his father to be a hero, he just wants his father to stand in the courtyard and take him to pick sweet-scented osmanthus and make a pot of sweet wine in autumn.

He only wanted his father to come back, hold his hand, lowered his head and smiled and said to him: "Little Huoqiu, you are seven years old this year, and my father will take you to the academy. You must be obedient and practice hard with the elders."

Thinking of this, he seemed to see his father standing at the door, turned around and smiled at him.

"Fireball," he said to him, "good boy, come here, and let Daddy see it."

Mo Xi walked towards the figure in the daylight in a daze.

Suddenly, the funeral firecrackers exploded, crackling and breaking, like waking up a dream deep in the soul.

"Father?" He said blankly, "Father, where are you?"

You, where are you?

There was no one at the door, only white silk hanging low.

His fingers were cold, and at that too cruel moment, he vaguely understood what "death" meant. He suddenly yelled, calling for Dad, and ran after him outside the hall.Seeing this, all the courtiers were even more shocked and mournful, wiping away tears.His uncle hurried out, hugged the struggling Mo Xi, and said with red eyes: "Xi'er is obedient, come to uncle, come to uncle..."

"I saw Daddy! I saw his!" He shouted, and suddenly lost his tone as he shouted. He threw himself into his uncle's arms and finally burst into tears, "I saw his...why did he Gone? Why did he leave? Why didn't he want me anymore!" The seven-year-old child screamed hoarsely, tears streaming down his face.

In the end, with trembling lips, there was only one sentence: "Why doesn't he want me..."

He is seven years old.

He looked forward to the stars and the moon, earnestly, and together with his father, he was looking forward to the seven years old.

It turned out to be such a scene.

It turned out that this is war.It is also the price of glory.

Half a year later, his birthday came.He is still wearing mourning clothes, the finest silk thread, and the most exquisite workmanship. The Mo family mourns and honors, and their status is even more prosperous than before.But so what.

He came to the Xuan window, and the sweet-scented osmanthus outside the window bloomed again, and the emerald green was covered with golden stars, each of which was like a reflection of last year.He sat down amidst the rich fragrance, and took out the Chonghua calendar that had been drawn for more than two years, which was already covered with thick dust.

"How many days until my seventh birthday?" My own voice seemed to be right next to my ears many years ago.

At that time, Mo Qingchi pressed his big hand on his head and rubbed it lovingly: "There is no rush."

"But I'm in a hurry, Daddy." He muttered, "I really want to skip these two years, and when I open my eyes, I will be seven years old."

Mo Qingchi laughed loudly, the laughter changed from clear to indistinct, and finally became the soft leaves Shusuo outside the window.

At that time, Mo Xi didn't know what the future would be like. He just felt that these two years were long and boring, and he wanted to spend them in a hurry so that he could hurry up to the day he was seven years old, so that he could get closer to the battlefield he longed for.But he didn't know that he hastily hoped that the past two years would be the last time in his life to have Father.

From now on, no matter how regretful he is and how sensible he becomes, he will never go back—what he despised once, what he wished he could not have.

The last seven hundred days.

He held the big calendar, and the line on the big calendar stayed forever on New Year's Eve of the 16th year of the Chonghua Calendar.The day they received the battle report.

"Father..." he said softly, "Our appointment has arrived. I can go to the academy now."

After waiting for a while, no one answered him.

No one answered him again.

Mo Xi buried his head deeply, curled up in front of the table, his shoulders moved slightly, and he couldn't help crying after all.

"Daddy...we won't fight anymore, okay...you don't go...you come back..."

you come back...

The word hero is too cruel, I just want you to stand in the bright hall and watch the sweet-scented osmanthus bloom again with me in autumn.

you come back...

When I grow up, can I go to the battlefield instead?I am no longer for fame and fortune, and I no longer like to fight, I just want to protect you, and I want to be by your side.

I miss you home.

Dad...

"...you will never understand me." Mo Xi, who had already arrived on the top of the mountain surrounded by clouds and mists, slowly opened his eyes, his gaze stayed on Lord Fu Ling's jade tablet for a while, and then turned to Gu Mang.

He said to Gu Mang indifferently: "If you didn't indulge in the war for your own righteousness, I don't understand why you would join the enemy Liao Kingdom."

"..."

"Chonghua is sorry for you, we owe you. But there is more than one road ahead of you, and there is more than one destination for you to treason. But you chose Liao country." Mo Xi's black eyes were cold, "What do you think?" It's revenge, for your ambition, for your comrades-in-arms, for your way out, you don't care if other people have more blood."

"Mo Xi..."

Mo Xi was almost self-deprecating: "I'm sorry, but I'm useless. Even if you put your life at stake, it still hasn't brought you back."

Gu Mang looked into his eyes, those eyes were too dark, too cold, too deep, filled with seven years of disappointment, it was so clear in the bright sky on the top of Battle Soul Mountain.Gu Mang's heart suddenly felt a strong agitation.

He didn't know what kind of mood that agitation was, he only knew that he didn't want to see Mo Xi's expression.

He didn't want Mo Xi to see him like this all the time.

While the heart was racing, a sentence blurted out: "Can you trust me again."

This sentence is like a cold arrow, both the speaker and the obedient are caught off guard.

Mo Xi opened his eyes slightly, his handsome face was filled with astonishment, but also a very rare blankness, and he was even in a daze: "What?"

Gu Mang bit his lip, stood up, and looked at him against the skylight: "I don't know what I was before. I have forgotten everything about the past. But now I think what you said is right. I also I don't like fighting, and I don't like being betrayed."

Unexpectedly, the cold wind blew his white robe fluttering, a thick cloud was slowly moving past the day before the day, and thousands of golden lights pierced the forest like feathered arrows, shooting down behind Gu Mang.

It seems that someone from yesterday is going to be ambushed and killed.

It seemed to pierce someone's heart.

The former altar beast stood in front of Mo Xi, and under the backlight, Mo Xi couldn't see his face clearly, but the voice that reached his ears was as solid as before he lost his memory.

"I want to make amends, and I don't want to disappoint you." Gu Mang said, the natural strength in his voice knocked his soul, "Can you trust me again."

"..."

The sleeves of the robe fluttered.

Gu Mang half-knelt down in front of Mo Xi, and for the first time, lowered his head in a real sense, respectfully, guiltily, with hope and warmth, and with blood and coldness, he whispered: "Please Lord, Taught me."

Mo Xi couldn't say anything for a moment.

But at this moment, there were two applause suddenly, and a cold voice like thin smoke came from not far away: "It's touching, where is this singing? The prodigal son turns back and won't change his money? Tsk tsk tsk, I really want to be Impressed."

The author has something to say:

Youyou Cangtian, what is so thin to me, from the old version of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, the episode of Xingluoqiufeng Wuzhangyuan, when I watched it in the past, I thought it was too cruel and left a deep impression. After so many years, I haven’t forgotten this sentence. I bring it here for Laojun It is used above, it is not an original short sentence, it is hung in the copy, so as to avoid unnecessary misunderstanding~

"The opium smoker is strangled by fate. "

[System]: Due to your outstanding performance at the New Year's Eve banquet, your hatred value has been reduced by 30 points.

Allen: So happy! !Finally lowered! !If it's a little lower, I don't have to be a villain anymore! !

[System]: Hello, I have received a new task [Go to War Soul Mountain to insult the protagonist by real name]. This task is a must. If you do not complete the task, Chonghua will issue a smoking ban.

Alian: ... rnm, I will take it.Can I take it? ! !