102 The Message About the Vertical Bamboo Flute of the World (2/2)
In a pond somewhere in Academy, wind skimmed water, and little waves pushed away several duckweeds in all direction. However, no matter where they went, they would come back after touching the wall.
In some mountain, a famous person walked through the dense forest and visited the famous temple. He knocked on the door, only to find out that the eminent monk had been traveling the world already. He only could leave with disappointment, shaking his head and looking back to the broken road in the forest.
In Ning Que's current mental world, those complex strokes, those deconstructed character components without specific meaning, and those lines of characters suddenly became vivid as his meditated. Each stroke seemed to have a metal edge, becoming knives formation of barbarians from grassland. The tip of the writing seemed to be more humid, becoming cold rain outside Spring Breeze Pavilion. The rain began to fall, and each fall meant knives that cut numerous people. The rain was unending, bringing unending conflicts.
Suddenly, the cutting and rain stopped. He opened his eyes from meditation at once and felt a sharp pain in his chest. He could not help but cough, lowering his head. His hoarse cough suddenly broke the tranquility of the second floor in the old library. He lifted arm to cover his mouth right away, but he found some blood on his blue sleeve.
”Headmaster of Academy said that to force oneself to do things was boring. You aren't fit to pursue cultivation. Although you have a stone-forged will, even if you find some interesting method, you... shouldn't insist on doing things you can't.
The female professor was in front of Ning Que without him noticing, speaking to him with gentle eyes.
Ning Que looked up, and then he just found the female professor was so tiny. He could not tell her real age because she had clear eyes and thin eyebrows. He knew it was she who had pulled him out of meditation when he reached a dangerous state. He could not help but laugh at himself. Then he stood up, wiped the blood off his lip, and gave a salute.
The female professor smiled, shaking her head to tell him there was no need to take this to heart. After nodding her head, she walked deep into the aisle between bookshelves with Hairpin-style Small Regular Script in her arm. Then, she left the old library without others noticing.
Ning Que had spent a lot of time in meditating unknowingly. It was already twilight outside the windows. He did not rush to leave when night was coming but stood in the west window quietly, listening to cicada's interrupted chirping because of their lack of practice. Then he walked to the desk, grinded ink and put brush into ink to write down some words.
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When the night grew late, the talisman inscription shone again in the deep of second floor in the old library, and then slid to both sides silently. Chen Pipi squeezed out with difficulty, puffing and blowing and his fat face trembling, which looked rather funny.
He had continued paying attention to the progress of the other party after he left the message that night. However, he did not hear from him after several days because Ning Que took sick leave. He was more curious than angry about what happened. Unfortunately, what annoyed him most these days was his Second Brother who let him fear was crazy. The brother suddenly asked classmates to learn Rituals of the Yin, so he had no time to visit the old library because of that.
Today, he finally had time. Chen Pipi rushed to the old library without bathing and relaxing, because he just wanted to see if Ning Que, the poor and hateful guy, had given him a reply.
Chen Pipi walked to the bookshelf and drew out the thin book, Primary Exploration on Ocean of Qi and Mountain of Snow. He lifted his thick eyebrows with a slight ”eh.” After he saw it some time, he could not help but shake his head and acclaimed. ”This guy really has some guts, he figuring out such a stupid method, and he could understand?”
What he saw was the earliest reply from Ning Que. Next, he saw today's reply. His thick lip could not help but make a louder noise, and he frowned, saying annoyedly, ”How can you pursue cultivation if you don't even understand this? I don't know you're a genius or an idiot!”
After he was silent for a while, Chen Pipi sat beside the desk in the west window and he began to grind ink and gave him a reply. When he communicated with Ning Que for the second time, he, the genius from West-Hill wrote this. ”Are you a kid? You don't even know the basic reason? Now that you have one acupoint that can't connect the world, you can't resonate with the Breath of nature. There's no other path you can take. If you want to know the specific reason, I could tell you a metaphor. Our body is like a musical instrument, like the vertical bamboo flute, and Psyche Power is the breath in the vertical bamboo flute. It doesn't mean you can play good music just because sound was produced from vertical bamboo flute's hole.”
”If there are no holes on your flute, then how can you blow? If the heaven and the earth can't hear your music, then how can you interact with it? Most of the acupoints in your Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi were blocked, so how else do you wish to torture yourself?”
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