I gritted my teeth and said this time I would practice whatever I said.

I have been here for four months, and every day I just watch them go out one by one, but I can only do the work of washing dishes here.

"I want to practice!"

I repeated it again.

It's getting quieter here.

No one answered me.

...

night.

The candles in the house are brightly lit.

"Why? Why don't I practice?" I asked Mo loudly with tears in the corner of my eyes.

He clearly left the wooden house...

It was clearly...that came out just after trampling on the uncle...

If you pay such a price, what's the point if you can't become stronger?

Mo holding the wine glass, his face turned extremely red, whether it was because of the wine or me, as if his anger was burning on his face.

He didn't say anything, just looked at the candlelight.

The environment here is remote, with mosquitoes raging, and moths keep rushing from outside the house to inside the house, toward candlelight, and toward the thoughtful light.

"We...we are these moths..."

Mo Zhen is a crying man, and shed tears again as she spoke.

He spoke again, said some names of people I didn't know, and talked about his miserable fate on his own.

No, it should be said that it is the tragic fate of mankind.

He told me all the things he knew about when he arrived at the origin of the Wu family and the human situation lately.

Cultivation is like a lie of self-deception. If you don’t pick up this knife, you will not have the ability to resist. If you pick up this knife, you will be equivalent to surrendering to the enemy.

Many of those distorted monks have also drunk wine here.

All they can do is to kill a few more distorted monks when they are awake, and when they are completely decayed, they will hand the knife to their partner and become their partner's enemy.

The path to practice is the flame of moths, the "light" leading to self-destruction.

"We are moths." Mo put down his wine glass, and the heavy wine glass made a sound on the table, and the sound also sank into my heart.

I suddenly understood why these adults didn’t want me to practice: “Then we… will not practice.”

"But what can we do if we don't practice?" Mo asked. "Any twisted tribulation monk can kill countless mortals as long as he is on a whim."

How can you fight against them if you put down your knife?

We cannot hand over all our destiny to the hands of those distorted madmen with mental instability.

"But if this continues, we will all..."

I dare not finish it because the final outcome is despair visible to the naked eye.

Just listening, I couldn't help holding the wine glass and wanted to take another sip, forgetting what he said.

"How did the twisted monks were born at the beginning?" I suddenly became a little curious. If I could stop it from the beginning, I might not be so desperate now.

"Don't know."

Mo picked up the wine glass in front of him and took another sip.

"There is still a chance." I couldn't help but comfort me, "As long as I seize this period of time, this period of human beings... have not had all the distortions, and there will always be someone who will find a way!"

"We can't do it, descendants can do it! There will always be people who can find a way that can be practiced safely and not distorted."

Don't look at me, as if you were looking at me before.

"This sentence was said by a fool three hundred years ago. You go out and don't mention it again in your practice."

I was stunned for a moment, but I didn't know how to refute.

I had to push open the door and walk out in a down-and-out manner.

As soon as I went out, I saw many people squatting outside the house.

They just heard Mo talking inside, like moths waiting for the fire. But Mo threw the cold reality on everyone's face again.

They probably hope that someone can deceive them at this time, I think so.

I walked past the crowd with my head down, and I was like a knife called sadness, constantly slashing on everyone's wounds.

I began to miss everyone drinking together.

At that time, probably everyone forgot the pain.

When I woke up from my dream, the reality was in a mess.

It would be better to live in your dreams all the time.

...

It's snowing in winter.

"Quick! Is there anyone?"

A roar came from the door of the base.

I took a look and the one knocking on the door was Uncle Yashen’s best friend, Uncle Yi.

I immediately opened the door, and the cold wind and snow blew by, and I rubbed my hands immediately with cold.

"Hurry, this is your Uncle Yashen! Take him in." Uncle Congyi anxiously pulled my sleeve.

I was stunned for a moment and hurriedly glanced at Yashen's body.

It's indeed Uncle Yashen.

There was a penetrating wound on the body, and a strange mist radiated from the wound, and the whole body was frozen.

Even with the frozen body, the tentacles on the chin are still squirming. This is the characteristic of the distortion reaching the critical point. I have seen several such people over the years.

"Can't go in." I choked up and sentenced Yashen to Uncle Yashen's partner to death.

People with distortion cannot go home.

There are many ordinary people here who do not have the ability to resist.

Even the uncle who likes to praise him for his three-point style as Brother Li cannot be put in.

"Look at him! Look at him! He is your uncle!" Uncle Congyi excitedly pulled my sleeve and refused to let go.

I have never practiced and can't break free.

I could only watch Uncle Yi's tentacles start to twist wildly.

"Calm down, uncle!"

"Okay! OK! I'll calm down! This way, I won't go in! I'll change him! If you let him in, he's still saved now! Please!"

From Uncle Yi's tentacles twisted and kept begging me.

"Uncle, we should learn to be indifferent." I said with my head down.

At this moment, I suddenly understood what I said to me at that time.

Congyi was stunned for a moment.

This golden elixir of cultivation seemed to be killed by my words in my eyes.

He did not come to his senses until the sound on the ground sounded.

"You are a dog, don't make things difficult for a child." Yashin said gasping.

Congyi suddenly reacted and held my hand excitedly: "Look! Look! He is still awake! He is not degenerate! Go and call Brother Mo and save him!"

"Stop calling, I know what's going on..."

Yashen said weakly, looking at me, "If you do it right, you should be a little cold."

I lowered my head and didn't dare to look at him.

In fact, Uncle Yi also understood everything. They were immortal cultivators, and a wooden door could not stop him. Uncle Mo actually knew everything inside, but no one said anything.

Everyone is restraining themselves.

Learn to be indifferent.

Yashen laughed and stared at me carefully, as if he was examining one of my few consciences.

"Ruyuan, do I have... Brother Li's three-point style at the beginning..."

"Yes, you're more handsome than him."

I said something against my conscience.
To be continued...