Chapter 39 Reincarnation

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Wei Yuan, who had just been marveling at the tea's delicate fragrance, almost choked to death in the next second.

He coughed violently, barely managing to avoid losing his composure in front of the white-haired woman. Catching his breath, he said with a wry smile:

"Long time no see? Are you referring to the Crouching Tiger lineage..."

"You know the previous Crouching Tiger?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes calm like the night sky, without a trace of ripple, staring at Wei Yuan, and said:

"I'm talking about you."

"Me?"

Wei Yuan was stunned for a moment, his mind first wondering if he had encountered her before without his knowledge, or some other possibility. A look of hesitation appeared on his face, and the white-haired woman added with a smile:

"Of course, not the you of this life. I've been unable to leave Qingqiu for a thousand years, let alone encounter you in the vast sea of people. What I saw was your past life."

Seeing that the other party was becoming more and more exaggerated, Wei Yuan calmed himself down and said:

"You mean... a past life?"

"But as far as I know, even cultivators don't have the concept of reincarnation. The Netherworld is just an illusion. The living Buddhas of the Zen sect must immediately enter the infant's spiritual platform after the previous generation passes away in order to barely inherit, and even then, they must pay the price of a lifetime of hard work."

"The theory of reincarnation is truly illusory."

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

"But the world is vast, and there are always various possibilities. The reincarnation of true spirits is also the same. Although this matter is almost impossible, it is by no means impossible, but the process is arduous. Like ten thousand eight thousand insects in a bowl of water, the reincarnation of a person's true spirit is even more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack, and even if the true spirit is reborn as a person, the vast majority have nothing to do with their previous life."

"A flower tree blooms every year. They are both flowers of the same tree, but this year's flower and last year's flower cannot be said to be the same. The reincarnation of the true spirit is also the same. However, there is always a very small part that is different."

Wei Yuan frowned and said, "You mean, I'm that difference?"

He half-jokingly said, "Could it be that my past life was a hero recorded in history books?"

The white-haired woman shook her head and smiled slyly, "No, not only was it not a hero, but if you really want to talk about it, you should have been my slave. Because of some things, my husband dissolved the contract of servitude and made you a member of the tribe. Of course, as far as I know, you have always been ordinary, without innate divine abilities, and in that era, there was no concept of cultivation yet."

Wei Yuan was stunned. What the white-haired woman in front of him said was too serious, making him somewhat doubtful, but he still slowly shook his head and pondered:

"I don't believe in the idea of a past life."

"Besides, even if there is one, the past me and the current me are different."

The white-haired woman said, "That's in your eyes. At least your true spirit hasn't changed."

"In the eyes of long-lived beings, every reincarnation of a mortal is equivalent to a rare miracle, and the price is only the loss of memory. Wei Yuan, in your eyes, if a person loses their past memories, are they no longer that person?"

"Or when those elderly people get sick, like children, and don't remember the past, will their relatives think they are no longer themselves? That's not the case, is it?"

Wei Yuan was speechless.

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

She poured Wei Yuan a cup of tea, and then asked him to sit here and wait, and she stood up and slowly walked to the inner room. Wei Yuan looked at the rising and falling tea leaves in the cup, his brow furrowed.

He had come into contact with cultivation, slain demons, and annihilated fierce spirits from beyond the ocean, but suddenly, in the legendary country of Qingqiu, someone told him that they had seen his past life, which still made him feel indescribably moved.

He held the tea and pondered in a daze, not knowing how long had passed.

The white-haired woman walked out slowly, pointed to the cup in his hand, and said with a smile:

"If the tea gets cold, it won't taste good."

She carefully placed a box in front of Wei Yuan, and then motioned for him to open it. Wei Yuan put down the teacup, and after opening the box, inside was a simple pottery, without much bright color, nor too much decoration, but the curves were perfectly soft, and the lines on it were as delicate as naturally formed.

The entire pottery exuded an ancient aura as if buried in the earth.

The lines combined to form an abstract nine-tailed fox.

Even Wei Yuan, who didn't know much about history, could tell at a glance its age and preciousness. This was definitely a national treasure-level antique. He carefully put down the pottery, gently stroking the rough but curved pottery with his fingers, and said, "Senior, this is..."

Nujiao said, "This is made by you."

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

"It was your most proud work, chosen as the vessel used by my husband."

"You were proud of it for a long time, and even got drunk once."

"I know you don't believe in the theory of past lives, but all things have spirituality. This vessel has been poured into your efforts, and you have been responsible for cleaning and taking care of it. It once contained some of your soul and thoughts unconsciously overflowing during your daily walks. It is also waiting for you. This... is its story with you."

The white-haired woman smiled and flicked the pottery gently with her finger.

The sound was not crisp, but deep and heavy.

Falling into Wei Yuan's ears, it made his consciousness a little dazed.

The vision in front of him became blurred, and everything magnified, with spots of light appearing one by one.

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

………………

The sound of the pottery was harsh.

Soft curves, perfect arcs, every line on it was like a natural formation.

The treasure-like pottery fell to the ground and shattered into many pieces, making Wei Yuan's heart jump. He came back to his senses, and then he saw that he was next to a river, sitting on a bluestone, the sky was blue and distant, the grass and trees were lush, and he could hear a dull sound like thunder in his ears.

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

He was doing something here?

Where is this place?

I seem to be a potter? No, not...

Who am I?

A familiar voice shouted from a distance, pulling him out of this daze like he was slacking off. He blinked his eyes, the grass by the river was blown by the wind, rising and falling, and turned his head, a strong and powerful young man strode over.

He had a healthy physique, sun-tanned skin, and seaweed-like messy hair.

He wore a wolf tooth pendant around his neck and a heavy weapon made of stone on his back.

The young man ran over, slowed down, saw the shattered pottery on the ground, and smacked his lips regretfully. He lowered his head and rummaged through it, then shook his head, reached out and patted Wei Yuan's shoulder, who was still confused, and comforted him: "Hey, it doesn't matter if you fail once, you'll always succeed."

"Come on, I need your help with something."

As if breaking through a membrane, the young potter came back to his senses.

He blinked his eyes, put the inexplicable thoughts in his mind, like flying iron birds and iron boxes running on the ground, behind him. He felt that he had been dazed for too long, what was he thinking about? He clapped the dry mud on his hands, stood up, wearing animal skin clothes, with stones as decorations on his wrists, looked up at the sky, and stretched comfortably.

He was a craftsman of the tribe. Although he was a prisoner of war, he was not treated cruelly because of his pottery skills.

His name came from a certain wish.

Hoping that the water could gather in a deep pit and no longer flow.

Called... Yuan.

The young man carrying the weapon hurriedly pulled him over, grinning and said:

"That guy named Yu is going to marry the witch tomorrow. You're still pondering your pottery here. Hurry, come and help. Hehe, when he came to smash the door for marriage before, you were the most ruthless, smashing down with pottery filled with stones. You have to put in more effort today."

PS: Today's second update... two thousand five hundred words, a little less~

I said he was just a mortal, lying down, but the following story should be quite interesting...

I forgot to mark the reward of the warrior Xing Tian in the previous chapter title, I'll make it up~