MTL - Cultivation of Immortals Begins with Drilling Wood To Make Fire-Chapter 552 [The harm of slipping through the net]

  Chapter 552 [The harm of slipping through the net]

   Traveling with two points and one line is very boring, but the travel of most people in the world is this kind of two points and one line, which is very rigid. That is, from the starting point to the planned destination, after completing the planned content, go back directly. All this kind of situation brings only fatigue and emptiness, which is far less comfortable than sleeping on a couch at home.

  Gain There are too many restrictions in ordinary people's lives, either for doing things, or for time limits, or for caring and thinking, or just for traveling, just obsession.

   But Fang Chang is different. Compared with ordinary people, he has unlimited time and easy luggage.

  Come here to find an apprentice, but only follow the general direction in the spiritual perception, and walk slowly until the predetermined fate comes. On the way back, he is even more free and unrestrained.

   Don't rush back to Yunzhong Mountain, the things on the Xianqi Cliff are just things and don't become concerns. Fang Chang didn't even choose to return in the direction of Yunzhongshan, but walked forward aimlessly and chicly. On the way, when you encounter villages, towns, cities, valleys, and mountains, you can enter if you want to, and you can’t enter if you don’t want to. Whether you want to visit or not is up to you.

   Observing the world from a pure outsider's perspective is always an interesting experience, whether it's weddings or funerals or joys and sorrows. Although observing these has no effect on improving his cultivation, he still keeps this habit, just like his appreciation of the scenery on both sides on the way.

  Now that his cultivation is high, Fang Chang's cloud head is already very fast, but he still doesn't like to ride clouds. Rather than stepping on the clouds and fog to drive in the sky, he still likes to use his feet to measure the earth, walk slowly, and look at it slowly. After all, the time is long after practicing, so there is no need to rush.

  Raising his right hand, Fang Chang gnawed on the pancake with a green onion rolled in his hand, and then chewed slowly. It's a pity that there are not many pedestrians by the river, otherwise, if someone turned their head and saw Fang Chang's eating movements, they would definitely find this eating scene very appetizing.

  Walking around the world, Fang Chang has seen many kinds of food called "pancakes", but the one in his hand is the staple food of the people around him. There are a variety of raw materials, whether it is wheat, millet, sorghum, beans, buckwheat, or sweet potatoes, they can all be made into battered pancakes.

Every household here has a large iron pan with a diameter of several feet. After heating it, pour the paste on it and scrape it flat, and then you can make pancakes that are as round as a silver moon, as big as the mouth of a jar, and as thin as paper. , Portable and very durable storage. Like Fang Chang, it is the most common way to eat green onions dipped in sauce. If the family is rich, they will also use pancakes to roll various dishes.

  When Fang Chang passed by a village, he spent a few copper coins to buy a stack of pancakes and put them in his bag. As for the onion sauce, he always carried it with him.

  The river water in front of me is very clear. You can clearly see the river sand, aquatic plants, and swimming fish and shrimps below. At the same time, it reflects the blue sky and three or five white clouds blown into thin strands by the wind.

  There are several small boats moored by the river, and there are oars and fishing nets on them, which should be the tools used by the villagers by the river for fishing.

  Fang Chang has good eyesight, and he can still see salted fish hanging on the wall in the distant village to dry.

   This place should be close to the sea, because he could feel the subtle breath of the sea from the wind blowing. He finished the pancake in his hand in two or three bites, and walked in the direction of the wind.

  Since we are here, let’s stop by to see the sea.

  This river originates from a mountain a hundred miles inland. It is not too long, so it does not collect much water and is not very wide. The place where the river flows into the sea has become a tidal flat, with lush reeds growing, and there are many kinds of seabirds and animals in the middle, and the desolation is actually very lively.

  No one lives in the reed beach, after all, it is very humid inside, Fang Chang walked along the coast, passed the reed forest, and saw the village. The villages here have a very conspicuous place, that is, outside each village, there are piles of reeds like forests, all of which are withered, yellow and dry, which must have been accumulated over the years.

  But the fields here are barren, and the people often cook salt as a job.

  In the salt cooking utensils, the fastest consumption is nothing more than utensils and firewood. Utensils such as iron pots and pottery jars can still be sold outside, and the fuel can only be counted on these inexhaustible reeds that grow and cut every year.

  Fang Chang stood in the distance and watched, but did not go in.

  After all, there is a huge high-quality salt mine on the mountain behind me. People here rely on the coarse salt obtained by cooking.

   Further south is a bay.

  The setting sun slowly set from the west, and took away the last ray of light sprinkled on the waves on the shore. After the golden light on the top of the waves disappeared, the bay suddenly became noisy. A few schools of fish swam here, disturbing the plankton in the sea, and the originally gloomy sea suddenly became bright.

  The blue light emitted by plankton covers the entire bay.

  It turned out that there were countless luminous jellyfish gathered in this water area. Seeing this, Fang Chang became interested, and he walked directly to the surface of the sea. The surface of the water that was lightly stepped on left a long string of footprints, which took a long time to disperse.

  Tonight was in a good mood, so Fang Chang simply walked south along the coast in the dark.

  The moon also rose, and its clear reflection on the sea surface was divided into fine pearls and jade by the waves from time to time, and then reunited.

   "Hey, someone is crying?"

  Fang Chang has very good hearing, and in the deep night, he can hear movements from far away.

   Without changing his speed, he walked for two hours before seeing the source of the crying. There are dozens of families in the valley by the sea, and one of them has its door wide open, with a thin coffin in the middle, and a few old and weak heads wrapped in white cloth, crying and burning paper beside them.

   This is a common situation. Fang Chang took a look, and was about to pass by here and continue south, when he suddenly noticed that the inside of the coffin was empty, only two shoes.

  So Fang Chang walked in, bowed slightly to the spiritual seat, and after several people returned the salute, he asked:

   "May I ask what happened at the master's house?"

  Hearing this question, a middle-aged woman inside said with a sad face: "There is a king in the mountains who loves to eat people. When my husband was out, he was caught and eaten by the king."

   "Huh? There is such a thing?" Fang Chang asked in surprise, "Did the court not care?"

"Originally, it was said that someone was in charge of it, but there was a severe drought in the state, and everyone in the yamen was busy praying for rain, and there was no way to ask for it. And the king seemed to have a source of information. It is said that the one who went to sue before was caught and eaten halfway I have a pity for my husband's tragic death, and now I have nowhere to appeal for grievances." The young woman covered her face and sobbed, "The king eats people, but he still puts salt."

   After midnight, I suddenly realized that yesterday was my birthday, and I was officially thirty years old. . . . . Years. . .

  (end of this chapter)