"Gu Fei, you have been there these days." The Qingpao Taoist was Mo Songxuan, the steward of Hualin Pavilion. When he saw Gu Fei, he stood up from behind the table a little abnormally.
"I have seen Uncle Mo!" Gu Fei hurriedly stepped forward and saluted Mo Songxuan.
"Hey! Gu Fei, your master left the customs two days ago." Mo Songxuan's expression was a little sad, which made Gu Fei's heart move, making him faintly uneasy.
"My master is out of the customs, I will go to see his old man!" Gu Fei quickly turned around and was about to rush out of Hualin Pavilion. However, Mo Songxuan stopped him from behind.
"Gu Fei, your master is out of the customs, but..." Mo Songxuan hesitated.
Gu Fei quickly turned around again and looked at Mo Songxuan. The anxiety in his heart became even stronger. He asked, "Uncle Mo, did something happen to my master? Tell me!"
With Mo Songxuan's hesitant expression, Gu Fei's heart hung up, and the palms of his hands were squeezed and sweaty.
"Gu Fei, you have to be psychologically prepared!" Mo Songxuan groaned, but he said such a sentence, looking at Gu Fei with a trace of pity.
"Could it be..." Gu Fei's heart trembled, his body shook, and he actually took a step back. He asked with a trembling voice, "Could it be that my master..."
Mo Songxuan nodded solemnly without saying.
This action of his almost made Gu Fei collapse. Gu Fei only felt that the world in front of him collapsed in an instant, his head seemed to be struck by a nine-day raging thunder, blasting him so hard to distinguish between east and west.
A line of tears flowed down his face, and Master's kind face appeared in his mind, but at this time, he and Master were separated forever. Before Master retreats, I already knew vaguely that this was Master's last chance.
His master is over 150 years old, and the deadline will come at any time, but when the master really passed away, he couldn't accept it. For Gu Fei, Wan Xiancheng was no longer a simple master.
"Gu Fei, you have to keep your sorrow and change!" Mo Songxuan couldn't help expressing comfort when he saw that Gu Fei's face was distorted in grief because of knowing the passing of Master.
Too much forgiveness, too ruthless, in fact, cultivators generally take life and death lightly, the more advanced the cultivator, the more they ignore life and death. However, Gu Fei is not a cultivator, he is a martial artist.
He has feelings, and his feelings are still very rich. Cultivating martial arts is actually cultivating people. Martial arts is also humane. The seven emotions and six desires are human nature.
Since it is human nature, it should not be discarded. Therefore, Gu Fei will not vent his sorrow without concealing his inner feelings.
"Uncle Mo! When did this happen?" Gu Fei let his tears blur his eyes, and did not reach out to wipe them, he asked Mo Songxuan sadly.
"Your master was sitting down last night. He can't let go of you and wants to see you, but..." Mo Songxuan said with some emotion. Although Wan Xiancheng and him are not the same kind of brother-in-law relationship, but his friendship with Wan Xiancheng is still good.
Mo Songxuan is a cultivator, and what the cultivator is about is to abandon the seven emotions and six desires. Although Wan Xiancheng is his senior, if he can't cultivate to the realm of immortality, people will eventually die, but Mo Songxuan does not appear too sad.
The ascetics pay attention to understanding the way of heaven, the way is natural, there is life, there is death, and there is withered, there is glory, this is the law of the cycle of heaven and earth, and let it be natural is the point of view of the ascetic.
"Master... the disciple is not filial!" Gu Fei wailed and burst into tears, but his appearance caused the disciples around him to look at him with surprise.
"This is what your master asked me to give you!" At this moment, Mo Songxuan found a package and a purple stick with a simple pattern engraved on it under the table.
Gu Fei resisted his grief and reached out with tears to take the package and the stick. This stick looked like wood and not wood, or iron and not iron. I didn't know what it was cast from. The shape looked a bit like a sword hilt, and it was a bit heavy.
This stick-like thing, according to Gu Fei's master Wan Xiancheng, was obtained by the master of their line together with the ancient cultivation method. It should be an extraordinary thing.
However, after several generations of Gu Fei's contemplation, they couldn't find out what's extraordinary about this short purple stick. It's an inconspicuous thing when viewed horizontally and vertically.
"Uncle Master, where is my master and his old man buried? I want to go and worship." Gu Fei asked in a deep voice, his voice full of misery.
Wan Xiancheng and Gu Fei, although they are masters and apprentices, they are like father and son. Having not seen the last face of Master, Gu Fei had already regretted it to the extreme. In addition to grief, there was self-blame in his heart.
"Your master is buried in the cemetery in the gate, you can see it when you enter the cemetery," Mo Songxuan replied.
As soon as Mo Songxuan's words were finished, Gu Fei rushed out of Hualin Pavilion. Mo Songxuan seemed to want to say something, but in the end he didn't stop Gu Fei.
There is a special place on the back mountain of Taixuan Gate, halfway up the mountainside, where the grass is green and the flowers are fragrant. If there is no forest of steles, it would not be an exaggeration to call it a garden.
Here is the cemetery of Taixuanmen, where the bones of the disciples of the past generations are buried. After all, not everyone can cultivate the avenue of immortals. Once the limit is reached, they will return to reincarnation and turn into a pile of loess.
The whole cemetery was quiet, without a single sound.
In an inconspicuous corner outside the cemetery, a figure stood silently in front of a low grave, motionless, he was Gu Fei.
He stood blankly, from morning to noon, and then from noon to evening. The setting sun is like blood, reflecting the mountains, dyeing the mountains red, and it is another sunset. The afterglow of the setting sun renders the cemetery solemn and strange.
The low and low tomb is unremarkable, it can be said to be very simple, with only a tombstone, no flowers, a simple little soil bag, and the soil is new.
Who is dead in life? No matter you are outstanding, you are still a mediocre person, in the end, it is just a pile of loess, there is no difference. If a person dies if the lamp goes out, who will remember, and who will remember that such a person once existed in this world?
The essence of cultivation is actually against the sky, whether you practice martial arts or Taoism, you are struggling with the sky. If you succeed, you can live a long life, and if you fail, you will disappear into the world, and everything will disappear.
Although the ascetics say that they are obedient to the destiny, but while conforming to the destiny, are they not breaking through the destiny?
Gu Fei's master Wan Xiancheng, in the last retreat, did not take that step, and could not get rid of his limit. When the deadline comes, you must sit down. This is the great law of heaven and earth, and no one can be detached.