"Cough, cough, cough..."
Wei Yuan, who was just sighing at the light fragrance of tea, almost choked to death.
He coughed violently, barely avoiding losing his composure in front of the white-haired woman. He took a breath and smiled bitterly:
"Long time no see? Are you talking about the Crouching Tiger lineage..."
"Do you know the previous Crouching Tiger?"
The woman shook her head, her eyes as quiet as the night sky, without a trace of ripples, staring at Wei Yuan, and said:
"I'm talking about you."
"Me?"
Wei Yuan was stunned for a moment, and first wondered whether the other party had met him before without his knowledge, or other possibilities. Hesitant expression appeared on his face. The white-haired woman smiled and added:
"Of course, it's not you in this life. I haven't been able to go out of Qingqiu for a thousand years, not to mention meeting you in the vast sea of people. What I have seen is your previous life."
Seeing that the other party was getting more and more The more exaggerated the words were, the more Wei Yuan calmed down and said:
"You mean...previous life?"
"But as far as I know, even for practitioners, there is no reincarnation. The netherworld is just a fantasy. The living Buddha of Zen Buddhism must be immersed in the fetal spirit platform immediately after the death of the previous generation in order to barely pass on the legacy. Even so, it requires a lifetime of hard practice as a price."
"The theory of reincarnation is really a fantasy."
The woman nodded naturally and said, "Of course."
"But the world is vast, there are always various possibilities, and the same is true for the reincarnation of the true spirit. Although this thing is almost impossible, it is by no means impossible. It's just that the process is difficult, just like there are 108,000 insects in a bowl of water. The reincarnation of a person's true spirit is more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack. Even if the true spirit is reborn as a human, most of them are different from the previous life. There is no relationship. "
"A flower tree blooms every year, and the flowers are the same tree, but the flowers of this year and last year cannot be said to be the same. The same is true for the reincarnation of the true spirit, but there are always very few differences. "
Wei Yuan frowned and said, "You mean, I am the difference?"
He half-jokingly said, "Then was I a hero in the history books in my previous life?"
The white-haired woman shook her head and smiled cunningly: "No, not only not a hero, if you really want to talk about it, you should have been my slave. Because of some things, my husband released the slave contract and became a member of the tribe. Of course, as far as I know, you have always been ordinary, not born with supernatural powers, and in that era, there was no talk of cultivation. "
Wei Yuan was stunned when he heard it, his eyes The white-haired woman said too seriously, which made him a little skeptical, but he still shook his head slowly and said thoughtfully:
"I don't believe in the saying of previous life."
"Besides, even if there is, I am different from me now."
The white-haired woman said: "That is in your eyes. At least your true spirit has never changed."
"In the eyes of long-lived creatures, every reincarnation of mortals is equivalent to a rare miracle, and the price is just the loss of memory. Wei Yuan, in your eyes, if a person loses his past memory, he is not that person anymore?"
"Or when those old people get sick, like children, and don't remember the past, his relatives will think that he is no longer himself? That's not the truth, right?"
Wei Yuan was speechless.
The woman put down the tea with a smile and said, "By the way, I remember Jue'er said that you have opened a museum in a city now? Then I have something here that may be of interest to you."
She poured a cup of tea for Wei Yuan, and then asked him to sit here and wait. She stood up and walked slowly to the inner room. Wei Yuan looked at the tea leaves in the cup and frowned.
He had come into contact with cultivation, killed demons, and exterminated evil spirits from the other side of the ocean, but suddenly in the Qingqiu Kingdom that only existed in legends, someone told him that he had seen his previous life, which still made him feel indescribable.
He was lost in thought while holding the tea, and he didn't know how long it had been.
The white-haired woman walked out slowly, pointed at the cup in his hand, and laughed:
"The tea is cold, so it won't taste good."
She carefully placed a box in front of Wei Yuan, and motioned him to open it. Wei Yuan put down the cup and opened the box. Inside was a simple pottery, without bright colors or too many decorations, but the curves were perfect and soft, and the lines on it were delicate as if they were formed naturally.
The whole pottery exudes an ancient atmosphere as if buried in the earth.
The lines are combined to form an abstract nine-tailed fox.
Even someone like Wei Yuan, who doesn't know much about history, can see at a glance that it is ancient and precious. This is definitely a national treasure. He carefully put down the pottery, gently stroking the rough but soft pottery with his fingers, and said: "Senior, this is..."
Nv Jiao said: "This is what you made."
She gently pressed her palm on the top of the pottery.
"This is your most proud work, and it was chosen as the utensil for my husband."
"You were proud of it for a long time, and even got drunk."
"I know you don't believe in the theory of past lives, but all things are spiritual. This utensil has been the product of your hard work, and you have been responsible for cleaning and taking care of it. It once contained some of your souls and thoughts that you unconsciously exuded while walking day and night. It is also waiting for you. This... is the story of it and you."
The white-haired woman smiled and said, then flicked the pottery lightly with her fingers.
The sound was not crisp, but deep.
It fell into Wei Yuan's ears, making his consciousness a little dazed.
The vision in front of him became blurred, everything magnified, and spots of light appeared one by one.
Wei Yuan loosened his palm, and the ancient pottery fell.
.........
The sound of the pottery was harsh.
Soft curves, perfect arcs, and every pattern on it seemed to be formed naturally.
The precious pottery fell to the ground and broke into many pieces, which startled Wei Yuan. When he came to his senses, he saw himself sitting on a bluestone beside a river. The sky was blue and distant, the grass and trees were lush, and he could hear a dull sound like thunder in his ears.
Wei Yuan lowered his head and stared at the broken pottery. He was gradually confused, as if he had forgotten something.
What was he doing here?
Where is this place?
I seem to be a potter? No, not...
Who am I?
A familiar voice shouted in the distance, which made him break free from the daze that seemed like a lazy nap. He blinked his eyes, and the grass by the river was blown up and down by the wind. He turned his head and saw a strong and powerful young man running towards him.
He had a healthy body, tanned skin and messy hair like seaweed.
He wore a wolf tooth pendant on his neck and a heavy weapon made of stone behind him.
The young man ran over, slowed down his pace, saw the broken pottery on the ground, curled his lips with some regret, lowered his head to pick it up, then shook his head, reached out and patted Wei Yuan's shoulder who was confused, and comforted him: "Oh, it doesn't matter if you fail once, you will always succeed."
"Come, I need your help with something."
As if he had broken a certain film, the young potter came back to his senses.
He blinked his eyes and threw away the inexplicable thoughts in his mind just now, like the flying iron bird and the iron box running on the ground. He felt that he had been in a daze for too long. What were he thinking about? He patted the dry mud on his hands, stood up, wearing animal skin clothes, with stones on his wrists as decorations, looked up at the sky, and stretched comfortably.
He was a craftsman of the tribe. Although he was a prisoner of war, he was not abused because of his pottery skills.
His name came from a certain wish.
He hoped that the water could gather in a deep pit and stop flowing.
It's called...Yuan.
The young man with the weapon on his back hurriedly pulled him over and grinned:
"The guy named Yu is going to marry the witch tomorrow, and you are still here thinking about your pottery. Come on, come and help. Hehe, when he came to knock on the door to ask for marriage, you were the most ruthless. You used pottery to put stones on it and smashed it down. You have to work harder today."