Museum of Demons

"Cough cough cough..."

Wei Yuan, who was still sighing that the tea fragrance just now, almost choked to death in the next moment.

He coughed violently, barely stunned in front of the white-haired woman, breathed a good breath, and smiled bitterly:

"Long time no see? You are talking about Crouching Tiger..."

"Do you know the Crouching Tiger before?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes were as quiet as the night sky, without a trace of waves, she looked at Wei Yuan, and said:

"I'm talking about you."

"I?"

Wei Yuan was stunned. The first thing in his mind was whether the other party had encountered him before he didn't know it, or whether he was talking about other possibilities. Hesitation appeared on his face, and the white-haired woman added with a smile:

"Of course, it is not you in this life. I have been in Qingqiu for thousands of years and could not go out, not to mention meeting you in the vast sea of ​​people. What I have seen is your previous life."

Seeing that the other party talked more and more exaggerated, Wei Yuan settled down and said:

"You mean... past lives?"

"But as far as I know, there is no such thing as reincarnation even among practitioners. The Yinsi Youming is just a vain. The living Buddha of Zen must be submerged in the fetal spiritual platform immediately after the previous generation passes away to be able to reluctantly inherit it. Even so, it will cost a lifetime of suffering. Repair as a price."

"The theory of reincarnation is really vain."

The woman naturally nodded and said, "Of course."

"But the world is vast, and there are always various possibilities, and so is the reincarnation of true spirits. Although this matter is almost impossible, it is by no means impossible. It's just that the process is difficult, like the same bowl of water, there are hundreds of thousands of insects. The reincarnation of a person’s true spirit is more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack, and even if the true spirit reappears, most of it has nothing to do with the previous life."

"A flower tree blooms every year, and the same is the flower of this tree, but this year's and last year's flowers can never be said to be the same flower. 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'm the one that is different?"

He half-joked: "Then, in my previous life, is it possible that I am a hero named in the history books?"

The white-haired woman shook her head and smiled slyly: "No, not only is it not a hero. If you really want to talk about it, you should have been my slave. Because of certain things, my husband was dismissed from the slave contract and became A member of the tribe, of course, as far as I know, you have always been ordinary, without being born supernatural, and in that era, there was no such thing as spiritual practice."

Wei Yuan was stunned to hear, the white-haired woman in front of him was too serious, making him somewhat suspicious, but he still shook his head slowly, and said in deep thought:

"I don't believe that there is such a saying in a previous life."

"What's more, even if there is, the me in the past life is different from the 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 a mortal is equivalent to a rare miracle, and the cost is only the loss of memory, Wei Yuan, in your eyes, if a person loses the memory of the past, he is not that person anymore. ?"

"Or when those old people get sick, like children, and don't remember the past, their relatives will think that he is no longer him? Isn't that true?"

Wei Yuan was speechless.

The woman put the tea down with a smile, and said: "By the way, I remember Jue'er said that you now open a museum in a city? Then I have something here that you might be interested in."

She added a cup of tea to Wei Yuan, and then asked him to sit here and wait. She stood up and walked slowly to the inner room. Wei Yuan frowned as she watched the undulating tea in the cup.

He came into contact with spiritual practice, slayed demons, and punished the evil spirits from the other side of the ocean, but suddenly in the legendary Qingqiu Kingdom, someone told him that he had seen him in his previous life, and it still made him feel touched. It's hard to say.

He held the tea in contemplation and lost consciousness, not knowing how long it had passed.

The white-haired woman walked out slowly, pointed to the cup in his hand, and laughed:

"When the tea is cold, it doesn't taste good."

She placed a box carefully in front of Wei Yuan, and then motioned him to open it. Wei Yuan put the tea cup down. After opening the box, there was a simple pottery inside. It didn't have any gorgeous colors or too much decoration, but The curve is perfect and soft, and the lines on it seem to be naturally formed.

This pottery as a whole exudes an ancient atmosphere as if buried in the earth.

The combination of lines is an abstract nine-tailed fox.

Even Wei Yuan is like this, people who don’t know much about history can see its ancient and precious at a glance. This is definitely a national treasure. He put down the pottery carefully, rubbing his fingers lightly against the rough but rough. Tao with a soft curve said: "Senior, this is..."

The female Jiao said: "You did this."

She gently pressed her palm against the top of the pottery.

"It is the most proud work you have ever used, and was chosen as the utensil used by my husband."

"You've been proud of this for a long time, even drunk once."

"I know you don't believe in the previous life, but all things are psychic. This artifact has been devoted to your efforts, and you have been responsible for cleaning and taking care of it. It used to contain some of the soul spirit that you unconsciously spilled during your day and night walks. Si, it is also waiting for you, this... is the story of it and you."

The white-haired woman smiled and then flicked the pottery with her fingers.

The voice is not crisp, but deep.

Falling into Wei Yuan's ears made his consciousness a little trance.

The line of sight in front of me became blurred, everything magnified, and light spots appeared one after another.

Wei Yuan's palm loosened, and the ancient pottery fell.

………

The sound of pottery was harsh.

With soft curves and perfect arcs, every pattern on it seems to have formed naturally.

The treasure-like pottery fell on the ground and broke into many pieces. Wei Yuan was shocked and recovered. Then he saw himself sitting next to a river, sitting on bluestone, the sky was blue and far away, with vegetation. Luxuriant, the dull sound like thunder can be heard in the ears.

Wei Yuan lowered his head and stared at the broken pottery, slowly confused, as if he had forgotten something.

What is he doing here?

Where is this place?

I seem to be a pottery craftsman? No, it's not...

who am I?

A familiar voice yelled in the distance, letting him break free from the confusion that seemed like a lazy nap. He blinked, and the grass by the river was blown up and down by the wind. He turned his head and turned his head. The powerful young man ran over in strides.

He has a healthy physique, tanned skin and messy hair like seaweed.

There is a pendant with wolf teeth on his neck, and a heavy weapon made of stone behind it.

The youth ran over, slowed down, saw the broken pottery on the ground, curled his mouth with regret, lowered his head and pulled it down, then shook his head, and reached out his hand to pat Wei Yuan's shoulder, who was bewildered. , Comforted: "Oh, it doesn't matter if you fail once, you will always succeed."

"Come on, I want you to help me."

As if a certain film was chipped, the young potter came back to his senses.

He blinked, and threw the inexplicable thought in his mind just now, like a flying iron bird, behind the iron box that was running on the ground, he felt that he had been in a daze for too long and what he was thinking about. He patted the dry mud on his hands. He stood up with clothing made of animal skins and decorated with stones on his wrists. He looked up at the sky and stretched out comfortably. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com

He was a craftsman of the tribe. Although he was said to be a prisoner of war, he was not abused because of his pottery craftsmanship.

His name comes from a certain wish.

Hope the water can gather in a deep pit and stop flowing.

It's called...Yuan.

The young man carrying the weapon hurriedly pulled him past, grinning and saying:

"That guy named Yu is going to marry Master Witch as his wife tomorrow. You're still thinking about your pottery here, hurry up, come and help. Hey, when he came to smash the door and beg for a kiss, it was the darkest for you. Take the pottery and put the rocks down, and you can put more effort today."

PS: Today’s second update...2,500 words, a little less~

I said it’s just a mortal, lying dead, but the next story should be interesting...

In the previous chapter, Xingtian’s Wanshang of the Warrior Forgot to mark it after the chapter name, please add it~