Han Muchun was brought back to Fuyao Mountain by him when he was thirteen or fourteen years old. After he joined Tongru's family, he saw the difference between monks and mortals, and he lost his desire for fame. , even Tong Ru couldn't help asking him.

Han Muchun kept the flowers outside the hall so large that they were big and round. At the time, he was watering the water while holding his trouser legs, and he replied casually: "A monk and a mortal can only choose one, how can they occupy both sides?"

Tong Ru asked, "Why not?"

Han Muchun said: "Mortals and cultivators are very different from each other. If cultivators with great supernatural powers are mixed into mortal affairs, wouldn't mortals be inferior to ants, and wouldn't there be chaos in the world? What good does it do for cultivators when mortals are disordered? If you don’t have anything to do with production, even if you don’t have a grain of food, you still have to wear clothes, and you have to enjoy it occasionally. You need all kinds of materials for refining. If you can buy it, who will look for it? Cultivators are just like mortals, so everyone must be divided into three religions and nine streams, there must be disputes, make that murder, will the big guys go crazy together?"

Tong Ru never knew that he secretly cared about this for the world, and he almost didn't know him as a condescending apprentice.

"So," Han Muchun muttered while humming a little tune, "It's not good for anyone to be together... They say that the great power will soar. I don't think there is any record in the nine-story scripture building. Master, you said' Could Feisheng be just a radish?"

Tong Ru: "...Yes, what is it?"

Han Muchun: "A radish? It hangs in front of the donkey's nose. The monks are the donkey that follows the radish. With the radish hanging from Feisheng, the cultivators have to pursue it wholeheartedly, and there is no time to harm the world."

Tong Ru listened to him, the more and more outrageous he was, and finally clapped him on the head: "If you talk nonsense, you know how to arrange it randomly - how is your study of the exercises I asked you to practice?"

Han Muchun triumphantly threw the mud idea on his arm: "It's backwards!"

Tong Ru was furious at him: "It's just 'back like a flood', you don't have to practice hard, it's useless, you bastard!"

Han Muchun is extremely smart, but lazy—he works hard like sharpening a knife, and every time he gets stuck on the line that Tong Runeng reluctantly lets him go, he refuses to use any extra strength, and he just takes the guesswork out of it. I don't know how much effort it would take, but he seemed to prefer to put effort into it.

Tong Ru, who thought he was "educated by talents", was so worried to death.

But Jiang Peng is absent all the year round, just such a precious apprentice, Tong Ru has been watching him grow into a zhilan and jade tree since he was a teenager, and he can't bear to be too harsh. Xiaochun, we cultivators are like rowing against the current. We are led by the Great Dao and chased by our longevity. We dare not slack off and relax at all. Human talents are indeed divided into three, six, and nine levels, and your talent is indeed commendable. , but after walking on this road for a long time, you will understand that luck and xinxing are actually far more important than qualifications.”

Han Muchun obediently brewed tea and served it with a smile on his face: "Master, drink tea."

Tong Ru's bitter words were ignored by him, and he didn't take the teacup. He picked up an idle book next to him, and tapped his forehead: "Master Juren, what sage book taught you such a virtue?"

He didn't really fight, and Han Muchun didn't really hide either. He just shrank his neck slightly and said with a smile, "Reading is not what I want to read. He always said that I'm afraid that I won't be able to see me grow up and become a talent, so I thought about getting a job title early to reassure him... Now that my father is gone, I'm just a relative like you, Master."

Having said this, Han Muchun lowered his eyes and looked at the slightly swaying water in the teacup, his face blurred on the water.

Tong Ru's heart trembled when he heard the word "family".

Han Muchun rolled his eyes: "Of course I'll be filial to Master, wait..."

He originally wanted to say, "I'll take care of you when you are old", but after thinking about it, Master doesn't seem to be getting old, so he changed his words temporarily: "When the chūn day comes, you look at Fuyao Mountain full of purple and bright red, and your mood changes. Well, the practice can get twice the result with half the effort!"

... After talking for a long time, still want to be a gardener.

Tong Ru couldn't put his face down, his heart was soft and speechless, he had to roll his eyes.

This year, when chūn came, Fuyao Mountain was really lively. The flowers were blooming, the bees and butterflies were in groups, and the birds in the demon valley were amazed. On the flower hoe, he happily waved at Tong Ru: "Master, see me planting a mountain of flowers for you!"

Tong Ru has always felt as if he was destined to commit a lone star. For many years, he was either cultivating or discussing with fellow Daoists. No one has ever treated him so recklessly.

He was such a flattering person, and he forgave the prodigal apprentice on the spot for the "little thing" that he stole his spell and sold it for wine a few days ago.

Depend on each other, it will not be desolate.

Twilight is approaching, the flowers are about to fail, Tong Ru is reluctant, and wants to use a spell to save them, but is stopped by Han Muchun: "If you fail, you will fail, and it will bloom again next year. Rotation is a common occurrence, and each has its own advantages, so don’t delay the other for one.”

The great powers fly to the sky and hide on the ground, and inevitably they will be reserved and secretly born, and they will realize that all things are self-respecting. Tong Ru listened to this argument, and thought with emotion and self-deprecating: "Also, why are you so arrogant? Isn't it boring after a long time? It's no good thing."

The reason people look forward to "next year" is precisely because of prosperity and decline.

The defeated flowers were collected by Han Muchun, added honey, brewed dozens of jars of Hundred Flower Wine, and buried them under the trees one by one. For this, Han Muchun delayed his spell homework for seven or eight days and ordered Tong Ru to be punished upside down.

Then the next season passed, and under the tree became a delicacy in the world. With the fat crabs in the small river in the back mountain, it was just like a perfect couple.

Everyone wants to live a few more years, but if living is suffering, there are no relatives and friends, and there is no peace for a moment, then what's the fun?

Tongru has never thought of this before. Ever since he had the impression, he has been practicing on Fuyao Mountain day and night, and he is used to it. It is like drinking plain water all day long, and he does not know what is sweet or what is sweet. bitter.

Until there was Han Muchun.

Hundreds of years of rushing like a glimpse can only have this taste, and he was fascinated by the taste.

Sweetness is the sweetness of Hundred Flowers Wine, and bitterness is the bitterness of his three souls attached to the copper coins, watching the wild grass in Fuyao Mountain, and when no one is planting flowers.

Tong Ru looked at his little Chun living in the body of a huáng rat láng. Every late night, he would sit quietly for a long time in the cluttered and chaotic hall, with his slender eyes half-closed, as if he was participating in something that others did not understand. of Zen, and seems to be immersed in the memory of the year when the head printed the scriptures.

Tong Ru didn't know if he had left anything in the seal of the head, nor if Han Muchun had seen it, let alone how he would feel if he knew...

As if sweet only for a moment, bitter but bitter for many years.

When we meet again, it is in Wangyou Valley, where strangers cannot reach. Han Muchun uses his lingering soul to trap his remaining soul in Wangyou Valley.

In fact, it’s just a prison—even if the primordial spirit dissipates, leaving only the remnant soul, Tong Ru is also a person who has won Beiming, and if he really wants to break free, Han Muchun’s usual cultivation level for him may not be of any use.

However, even though he was slashed by a thousand swords, Tong Ru was very content. He accepted the fate of being tortured in heaven and earth and his soul was scattered with some sincerity, because it was impossible to ask for someone to live and die together.

It's just that there is no more Hundred Flowers Wine.

Tong Ru used to think that this precious apprentice was too gentle and a little drifting. Later, he learned that whether it is a mortal or a monk, it is enough to have only a few things in one's life without regrets, and the rest of the details are left to it.

He never asked, "So many years, what have you seen in the seal of the head".

Until the moment when the soul returns to heaven and earth.

At that moment, Han Muchun suddenly held his hand too intimately, looking at him as if there was a vast galaxy in his eyes.

Straight road Acacia is useless, but melancholy is pure madness.

Presumably if you can die without regrets, it will be a soaring.

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