Dark clouds covered the sky like a black tornado, and the ground was covered in clouds. Lightning lashed the ground, and the heavens seemed to be angry, but it had no reason to do so. The pitiful and exhausted civilians were so hungry that they had no strength left to escape the torrential rain that was about to swallow their lives. Death was approaching them step by step. Was the heavens playing tricks on them? The drought had driven them out of their homes and onto a desperate path to survive. Was this the end of their lives? No one knew, but they kneeled on the ground and prayed devoutly. The heavens would never show mercy to these poor people. A torrential rain like a myriad of arrows rained down on these desperate people.
Death.
People were struggling, using the last bit of their strength to fight against death. It shouldn't be strength, they had no strength left, it was the instinct of humans to survive, they had to fight against the cruel death god. After a long journey, the people who were exhausted from hunger and illness fell one after the other. Their desire to live could no longer support their bodies, and their souls roared as they broke through the layers of dark clouds to a place where they could no longer suffer from the torment of fate, where the pure souls could go. People were running, running forward. However, there was a vortex of black death in front of them.
"Brother, brother …" A girl's fading voice was shouting. Lightning had cut off the downpour, and the dazzling light and the thick dark clouds intersected. There were no shouts, no voices of despair, and the surging flood came crashing down like thousands of horses and soldiers.
"Xiao Ying! Xiao Ying … "Yes." As Yan Wenqing suddenly woke up from his nightmare, beads of sweat began to pour out from his forehead. He sat up in shock, and felt a splitting pain in his head. It was boiling hot, and his head was spinning.
The room was as dark as a sheet of paint. The wind outside was rustling the trees, and now the dim light on the window began to flicker, casting a lonely shadow on the ground through the dim light of the paper. It grew brighter and brighter. The oil lamp flickered on an old face, and the grandma gently pushed the door open with her hand to block the oil lamp from entering. The light illuminated the entire room. Yan Wenqing's tears silently fell under the dim light, the tears on his face reflecting the faint pain in his heart.
"Qing`er, my Qing`er, did you have a nightmare again?" The old granny brought the lamp to the bedside and placed it on the table. As she asked with a pained heart, she took out a towel from her waist to wipe away the sweat and tears on Yan Wenqing's face.
Under the light, Yan Wenqing looked terrified. Grandmother, I dreamt Xiao Ying again. I dreamt that she was carried away by the flood. She was crying and calling me big brother. " His tears flowed uncontrollably again.
His sister's disappearance made him feel as if he had lost the whole world, a deep wound that could not be healed, a heart-wrenching pain when he thought of his sister's face, which was either laughing or crying. This heartless fate had caused him to lose his parents, and had also caused him to lose his most beloved sister. The heavens truly were not fair to him. Over the past ten years, he had asked about every single place that he could reach. He firmly believed that his sister was still alive, and even though she was living a good life, he was still unable to find her. As he walked through the crowd, he would always feel his sister pass by him. She was smiling at him, calling him to wait for her.
Everyone advised him not to continue searching and said that Xiao Ying had starved to death because she was separated from her parents and would have no chance of surviving if she was separated from the family. He didn't give up, and he couldn't give up either. His feelings told him time and time again that his sister was still alive, and before his mother left, he promised her that he would take good care of her and protect her from being bullied. However, that nightmare kept tormenting him. The surging flood swallowed up his sister, who was calling for her brother. Her voice slowly faded into the sound of the waves. He could not find her, forever and ever!
Every time he would wake up crying from the nightmare, the end of the tear mark was the thought of his sister.
Grandmother caressed Yan Wenqing's head as she consoled him, "It's alright, Qing`er. That poor child of Xiao Ying, she went to look for her parents." The old man's voice was choked with sobs as tears filled his wrinkled face. Go to sleep, I still need to get up early to practice and step on the medicine tomorrow! "
The old man helped Yan Wenqing cover his face with the blanket, picked up the oil lamp and left, his hands continuously wiping his eyes.
Closing his eyes, his entire world had become a surging black ocean.
The emerald green bamboo forest swayed gently in the wind, and a sweet fragrance assaulted their noses, causing them to feel relaxed and happy. The cuckoo chirped on the treetops, then flew back into the bamboo forest, leaving behind a blue sky and clouds as white as snow. Under the gentle sunlight, the trees in the garden reflected a mottled image on the ground. The garden was extremely quiet, with only heavy and hurried sounds of breathing. Yan Wenqing was seriously practicing in the shade. Each and every move of his was filled with an intense power, each and every move was filled with boundless resentment, and each and every one was suicidal.
At the other end of the garden, an old man slowly walked out of the quiet bamboo house. This person was the old man who had appeared in the village and saved the villagers. He stroked his long, silvery-white beard, and walked in front of Yan Wenqing, "kung fu is the key to fitness, but every move of yours is filled with a deathly killing intent." The old man was stunned for a moment before he said to Yan Wenqing, "Follow me."
With that, the old man walked into the bamboo forest. Yan Wenqing, who was covered in sweat, remained silent and followed closely behind the old man. Passing through the thick green bamboo forest, they came to a precipitous cliff. The cliff was so deep that the bottom couldn't be seen, and the banyan trees that climbed the cliff swayed slightly in the wind that blew through the valley. The wind blew the old man's long robe, his hair lightly dancing in the air.
The old man held his hands behind his back and looked at the mountains in the distance. He slowly said, "The world is big, and how big is life? How can the world's grudges, grudges, love, hatred and enmity be clear, grudges and grievances to repay when! It was also said that retreat was like the sea and the sky; those who practiced martial arts would not have to worry about themselves, and their hearts would be as wide as the heaven and earth. Cultivating martial arts is used to strengthen the body and strengthen the mind, not to bully the weak. The heart of a person must be as clear as this mountain and the sky, and should not have the slightest bit of filth or distracting thoughts. "