Projections Passing Down Daos!
It was difficult to say how much time passed. It seemed both long and short. Outside, the sky gradually darkened, and faint moonlight spread out into the blackness.
Under the darkness of night, the flame in the bronze oil lamp danced back and forth, and it almost seemed as if the shadow of a person existed in the wick, looking up at the moon….
Shadows began to appear inside the temple, revealed by the lamplight. As the lamp’s flame danced, the shadows seemed to sway back and forth gracefully.
Meng Hao didn’t realize it, but the color of his garments were fading into a gray color, and were actually becoming tattered. It was as if his clothes were passing through time, becoming ancient even as he sat there cross-legged.
His whole person exuded this same feeling, as if his soul were being transported back through time to the ancient Daoist rite temple, to listen the music of the Dao. At the same time, the effects to his soul spread to his body, causing it to become ancient.
Deep night….
Suddenly, the sound of weeping floated out. It drifted out through the night air, clear and vivid. As the weeping echoed about, it gradually transformed into faint sighing.
“Do Immortals still exist in this world…?” asked a voice. Then there was silence, broken only by the rustling of the leaves in the trees.
At the same time, wisps of smoke began to rise up from the well. If there were someone standing next to the well, they would surely be shocked to find that it was filled with countless long strands of hair!
The black hair swirled out from within the well and then sank to the ground, where they spread out quickly to fill the entirety of the courtyard. It was at this point that cracking sounds could be heard coming from the bamboo trellis.
A dried up vine sagged down, making an arc-like shape that almost resembled a swing. It began to rock back and forth, almost as if… there were a person sitting on the vine, using it as a swing!
The sound of wailing drifted out from within the well, and laughter could be heard from the swing. They mixed together to fill the courtyard with an eerie sense of bizarreness. As for Meng Hao, he sat there in the courtyard, eyes closed, completely motionless.
He was surrounded by the flickering lamplight and the shadowy projections it revealed. The projections distorted and rippled, and then began to move, walking to and fro in the courtyard. Some sat down cross-legged, some prostrated themselves in worship. Some concocted medicinal pills, some held brooms in their hands that they used to sweep the floor. Some of them even approached the area where Meng Hao sat and peered at him curiously.
As for the dilapidated statue of the god, it now stood tall and straight like it had in the past. The statue’s shadow, which stretched out beneath it, suddenly separated from the statue and transformed into an old man.
The old man’s clothing looked very similar to Meng Hao’s long, worn-out robe. The man’s face was ashen, and blood oozed out from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth; severe injuries could be seen on his head. He looked like an evil spirit as he approached Meng Hao. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking as he floated to a position behind him, where he stood and looked down at the top of Meng Hao’s head.
A moment later, all of the projections within the courtyard turned and looked at Meng Hao. They approached, crowding around to stare at him closely.
Up above in the sky, black clouds covered half of the moon, and a soft wind blew across the land, along with an intermittent wail that sounded like mournful, choked sobbing.
It was at this point that the ground trembled, and muffled moaning sounds could be heard coming from deep within the temple.
“Home…. This place isn’t my home…. I want to go home….
“Take me home…. Take me home, Paragon… take me home….”
When the voice drifted out, the projections in the temple all trembled. In the temple’s courtyard, the black hair spreading out from the well suddenly flew up into the air. The swinging vine suddenly stopped moving.
At the same time, a head emerged from the well. It was illusory and pallid, and the expression on its face was incredibly terrifying and ferocious. Apparently this was… a head that had been soaking in the well’s water for millions of years, and yet had not decomposed. It was the head of a woman, whose listless, pupil-less eyes stared at the ground.
No figure was visible on the swing, and yet drops of black blood dropped down onto the ground beneath it.
It was at this point that a tremor ran through Meng Hao’s body. A hair-raising sense of terror filled him, and he opened his eyes. When he looked up, his scalp went numb as he realized that a pitch-black figure was standing directly in front of him.