Guanshan Lantern

The city wall of Tiemenguan cries on the fifteenth night of every month - white slurry seeps out from the cracks in the bricks, like rice soup, but lighter than rice soup. Chen Muyun had no intention of cultivating immortality. He is a blacksmith from Tiemenguan, and he just wants to inherit his father's bellows and quenching pool. Until Beiming worship came to the gate - his father poured his life's blood into the Zhenguan stone and used his own life to block the enemy outside the city wall. He didn't know until the day his father died in battle that what the Chen family had guarded for eight hundred years was not a wall, but a dragon vein beneath the ground. Shen Qingtang came to Tiemenguan carrying an old medicine box on his back. At the bottom of the box were her father's broken pulse pillow and the last blood stain left unwashed by the Zhou family's gatekeeper. The handle of the medicine grinded her right wrist to the bone, causing her shoulders to tilt to the left unconsciously when she walked. She used the technique of pushing ointment to treat the old wounds of Long Vein, and also healed the old crack on Chen Muyun's hand that was exactly the same as his father's. She said that the ointment can only cover the crack, but cannot prevent it - pain will always occur when people are alive. From Iron Gate Pass to Sunset Cliff, from the end of the dragon vein to the first scripture, he has walked a long way. Someone turned into a dark star to show him the way, someone stuffed the last bit of body heat into his mountain and river order, and someone swallowed the memory of the woman he loved deep in the ruins - briefly turning into her appearance to help him find the Meridian Eye. He couldn't stop, there were too many people behind him. Many years later, I was drinking beside the stone monument at the city gate. Someone asked him: Do you still miss her? He said: I want to. But no more. The wind is strong. The flames stood firm.