伊墨走了。
離開將軍府，連夜回了山中，那有沈家別院的山林，是沈清軒埋骨的孤嶺。
站在山中唯一的小院裡，四周景物依舊，各種花樹結了果，成熟的未熟的果子掛滿了枝頭。沈清軒還住在這裡時，最喜歡叫人從樹上摘果子吃，偏不吃那些洗淨擺好了的，用他的話說：果子的魂還沒走遠呢。他時不時抱著些現摘的桃李在懷裡，啃的汁水直流，或酸的直眨眼。
後來離山回到沈宅，每到豐收時節也喜歡在果林裡閒逛，走的累了，就讓小寶騎在肩上，送他上樹摘果子。小寶一摘就摘一堆，個個都是熟透的香甜，被沈清軒抱下樹，便席地而坐，那些果子洗都不洗就開吃，吃到最後仿佛吃醉了，臉上紅紅的，捧著肚子躺在樹下，呼呼大睡。
伊墨都記不太清，到底將這兩個吃果子都能醉倒睡著的人，從樹下拎回房多少次。
如今沈宅已經湮滅了，多年前的一場大火將它化為廢墟，梨桃果樹，也在那場大火裡消失的無影無蹤。現在那片地又重新起了宅子，是一戶方姓人家，也是商賈之家，卻比起當年沈家遜色許多，園子造的流於豔俗，市井的很。伊墨再沒有去看過。
唯獨這山，還是百年前的模樣，岩石綠樹，蒼蒼鬱鬱，山頂溫泉依舊終年煙霧繚繞。連那小院，都無甚改變，只是兩年不曾回來，院中家什風吹雨打，腐朽了些，庭院薔薇旁的一張木椅也已朽爛。那個坐在椅上嗅著薔薇微笑的人，也在土中沉睡百年，化為枯骨了。
伊墨覺得不適，仿佛心頭壓了些什麼，壓的他喘氣都變的艱難，想與人說說，四周卻只有飛禽走獸，在忙著準備食物過冬。
伊墨去了沈清軒的墳前，那青石墓碑有些泛白了，被光陰洗刷過後，連這樣頑固的石頭都褪了一層顏色，也不知這世上還有什麼可以長久光鮮。沈清軒的墳上黃土依舊，卻無一根雜草，四周也打理的乾乾淨淨，顯然是常有人來清理。
伊墨知道，到這山中的人，都會到這座墳前看看，擦一擦塵土，拔一拔雜草，逢節日祭日，也會來這墳前燃上一些紙，貢些祭品。仿佛這小小沈清軒，變成了雍城的土地爺。
細想一番，其實也正常得很，一百多年前，他與沈清軒相好的事，全城都傳揚開了。資訊越是封閉，人類對資訊就越是渴求，雞毛蒜皮大的事，都可以口口相傳，從一個城傳到另一個城。他們都是不事張揚的性子，這點事，卻也壓不住的被傳揚出去。
沈清軒在世時，鄙夷唾棄的那麼多。當面喚沈公子，背後都要補一聲兔兒爺。沈清軒死了，這些人卻轉而說他的好了，什麼賑災度荒，捐銀造橋，修繕書院等等，風口一致調轉，只說他的好與善，那些壞了人倫綱常的事，則再也不提。連府衙修縣誌時，都將這樁事，塗抹成了風流佳話，鑄成當地的傳奇故事。
說到底，也是人死為尊。況且，沈少爺墓碑上，可是有那妖親筆所提，自詡未亡人。
誰又敢再生詆毀之心呢？嫌活得命長了麼？
再後來，又有沈家那場大火，燃了一天一夜，卻沒有搜出一具屍骸，坊間傳言又變了變，說這雍城，是有神仙護著的，那神仙就是沈少爺墓碑上的那位。
自此，沈清軒的墳頭，再也沒有荒蕪過。
伊墨盤膝坐在墓前，手指摩挲著墓碑，光潤而冰冷。摩挲了片刻，也不知為何，就有些氣悶。
說不清道不明的氣悶。卻又無處排解。
這世上唯一陪伴在身側，體恤妥帖的人，已經入了土。他就是想說話，也無人可說，只能放在心裡，無事時，自己將那些事，那些話，在心裡說給自己聽。仿佛一隻反芻的動物。
伊墨想了想，化了蛇形，也沒有在墓碑上流連，而是一頭撞向那堆黃土。墳上黃土簌簌滑落，頓時出現一道裂縫，伊墨便順著那道的空隙鑽進去了。
墓裡一片黑暗，伸手不見五指，泥土的腥氣裡伴著木材腐朽的味道，以及屍骨的氣味，混雜在一起，變成了一股渾濁的氣息，著實難聞。伊墨卻仿佛一無所覺，繼續往前行，碰觸到木棺也沒有停頓，又一頭撞上去，棺木被他生生撞出一個窟窿，裡面依然黑漆漆的，且那渾濁氣味更濃了。
伊墨順著那個洞口，直接潛入棺底。感覺上碰到屍骸了，才化了人形，躺在棺內。
剛躺下去，便覺得壓到了什麼，又連忙側過身，似乎又碰上了什麼，能碰到什麼呢？這棺木裡，除了沈清軒還會有誰。三番兩次被硌得躺不安穩，伊墨便有些煩悶，一手將那些骨骸都從身下推開，一邊晃了下指尖，一團綠色的光亮就浮了起來，影影綽綽的，浮在狹小空間的上方，逐漸變大，逐漸明亮。
他見到了剛剛硌自己的東西，是沈清軒的指骨。將那指骨拿起來，伊墨喃喃著自言自語：“成這副模樣了，還不老實。”這話他說得大言不慚，絲毫不覺得自己鑽到人家棺木裡去占了人家地盤有何不妥，理直氣壯得很。
借著頭頂光線，伊墨就側躺在一邊，將那些骨骸重新擺放，又扯了扯那些爛掉的碎布，本是沈清軒入殮時身上的衣物，盡悉被他扯了去，爛爛的一堆看著又嫌礙眼，他就在棺材裡放了把火，用妖力控制著，將那些醃臢物什都毀了，所幸不曾造成火災，否則棺木地底自燃，又該錄進縣誌的奇聞志裡去。
將白骨都擺好後，伊墨又摸索著，找到了那人的頭皮，連著髮絲一起，往顱骨上放，放上去卻嫌難看，就將那些髮絲頭皮都掖進枕下。
做完這一切，再無事可做，伊墨重新躺下，在這人的棺木裡側躺著，面朝白骨閉上眼，一隻手無所事事的搭在白骨之上，指尖微微勾撓不休，仿佛懷中並非枯骨，而是活生生的人，那人在他懷裡看帳目，他就閉著眼摟著他，手指在他身上輕輕撓著，搔撓通常會惹來懷裡身子扭幾下，擺脫了那作怪的指尖又繼續看帳目，看幾頁，又扭幾下……明明是互相干擾的，卻又仿佛就該是這樣，天經地義，閒散安謐。
伊墨就這樣睡著了。
他懷中骨頭是散的，在他睡著後的一個轉側間，又被擾亂，肋骨與臂骨跑到了一處，顱骨也歪了，從玉枕上滑落下來。伊墨醒過來，恰好扶住，便抱進了懷裡。
亦低聲喃喃：“沈清軒。”看你，睡覺都不安分。
沉默片刻，他取出個黃銅般的葫蘆來，打開葫蘆口，墓底頓時香氣撲鼻。伊墨晃了晃那葫蘆，再看看懷裡那人的顱骨，竟微微笑了下，開始講這葫蘆，這葫蘆中的酒。
這其實是他搶來的酒。能釀出這“百日醉”的，除了當年那個點化他的道士，再無旁人了。仙家釀的酒，自然是好酒。他下山去尋他轉世，尋也尋不到，卻遇到了這老仙，正紅光滿面的要去給酒開封，據說釀了五百年，看在故交的份上，願意請他嘗一口，伊墨就跟著去了。
這酒叫百日醉，那老頭，用了五百年的光陰，釀了只能醉倒一百天的酒，還得意的很。伊墨說到這裡頓了一下，撫了撫懷中顱骨，問它：“你說他蠢不蠢？”而後又自己答：“蠢得很。”
這樣的蠢仙也該是仙界少有。伊墨想著，也不管那仙家嚎叫，扯了他腰上的葫蘆，灌滿之後就走了。徒留仙家在身後跳腳，直罵你這大長蟲忒不厚道，忒不厚道！
伊墨垂下眼看懷裡骨頭，那顱骨沒有任何回應，白森森的骨頭，黑洞洞的眼窩，有甚好看的？伊墨飲了一口酒，卻恍若聽見那年細雨朦朧的夜裡，微風揚起的帷帳中那人似嗔非嗔的一句：你這壞蛇。
——你這壞蛇。
伊墨閉上眼，對著葫蘆口飲完了滿滿一壺酒，眼前瞬間迷茫起來，仿佛籠了一層白霧，白霧之後，依稀是那人，正臥在他胸前，沖著他眉眼含笑。
沈清軒。
伊墨捧了那顱骨，嘴唇印了上去，輕輕吻著，小心翼翼，珍重無比。
你就這樣走了。伊墨醉意滔天的想著，難過的摟緊了身畔那些屍骸。
嘴唇蹭著白森森的骨頭，又忍不住嘟囔著問它，我當真欺負狠了你嗎？這一世你都要還回來，真是小心眼得緊。
他是真醉了，抱緊了沈清軒的屍骸，只願長醉不醒。
————————————————
Yi Mo left.
After leaving the general’s mansion, he returned to the mountains overnight. The forest where the Shen family’s villa was located was the solitary hill where Shen Qingxuan was buried.
Standing in the only small courtyard in the mountains, the surrounding scenery remains the same, various flowers and trees have borne fruits, and ripe and unripe fruits are hanging on the branches. When Shen Qingxuan still lived here, he liked to ask people to pick fruits from the trees to eat, and he would not eat those that were washed and arranged. In his words: the soul of the fruit has not gone far . From time to time, he held some freshly picked peaches and plums in his arms, chewing them until the juice flowed, or blinking because of the sourness.
Later, when they returned to Shen’s house from the mountain , they also liked to stroll in the orchard during the harvest season. When they were tired, they let Xiaobao ride on their shoulders and took him to the tree to pick fruits. Xiaobao picked a bunch of fruits at a time, all of which were ripe and sweet. Shen Qingxuan carried them down from the tree and sat on the ground. They ate the fruits without washing them. At the end of the meal, he seemed to be drunk, his face was red, and he lay under the tree with his hands on his belly, snoring.
Yi Mo couldn’t remember clearly how many times he had carried these two people, who would get drunk and fall asleep after eating the fruit, back to the room from under the tree.
The Shen residence has been destroyed. A fire many years ago reduced it to ruins. The pear and peach trees also disappeared without a trace in the fire. Now there is a new house on that piece of land. It belongs to a family named Fang, also a merchant family, but it is much inferior to the Shen family back then. The garden is gaudy and market-like. Yi Mo has never visited it again.
Only the mountain is still the same as it was a hundred years ago, with rocks and green trees, and the hot spring on the top of the mountain is still filled with mist all year round. Even the small courtyard has not changed much, but I haven’t been back for two years. The furniture in the courtyard has been weathered and rotten, and the wooden chair next to the rose in the courtyard has also decayed. The person who sat on the chair and smiled while smelling the rose has also slept in the soil for a hundred years and turned into dry bones.
Yi Mo felt uncomfortable, as if something was pressing on his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe. He wanted to talk to someone, but there were only birds and animals around him, busy preparing food for the winter.
Yi Mo went to Shen Qingxuan’s grave. The bluestone tombstone had turned a little white. After being washed by time, even such a stubborn stone had faded a layer of color. I don’t know what else in this world can stay bright and shiny for a long time. The yellow soil on Shen Qingxuan’s grave was still there, but there was no weeds, and the surroundings were also kept clean, obviously someone came to clean it often.
Yi Mo knew that people who came to the mountain would come to the tomb to take a look, wipe off the dust, pull out the weeds, and burn some paper and offer sacrifices on festivals and festivals . It was as if the little Shen Qingxuan had become the land god of Yongcheng .
Thinking about it carefully, it was actually quite normal. More than a hundred years ago, the news of his relationship with Shen Qingxuan spread throughout the city. The more closed the information was, the more people were hungry for it. Even trivial matters could be spread by word of mouth from one city to another. They were all people who didn’t like to make a fuss, but this little thing couldn’t be suppressed and spread.
When Shen Qingxuan was alive, so many people despised and scorned him. When people called him Master Shen to his face, they would add “Tuerye" behind his back. After Shen Qingxuan died, these people turned to praise his good deeds, such as disaster relief and famine relief, donating money to build bridges, repairing academies, etc. The public opinion turned around and only talked about his good deeds and kindness, and never mentioned the things that violated human ethics. Even when the government office was compiling the county annals, they painted this incident into a romantic story and made it into a local legend.
After all, the dead are the most respected. Besides, on Master Shen’s tombstone, there was a note written by that demon himself, claiming to be a widow.
Who would dare to slander me again? Do you think I have lived long enough?
Later, there was the fire at the Shen family, which burned for a day and a night, but no body was found. The rumors changed again, saying that Yongcheng was protected by a god, and that god was the one on Young Master Shen’s tombstone.
Since then, Shen Qingxuan’s grave has never been deserted again.
Yi Mo sat cross-legged in front of the tomb, stroking the tombstone with his fingers, which was smooth and cold. After stroking it for a while, he felt a little depressed for some reason.
I can’t explain the feeling of being depressed, but I have no way to relieve it.
The only person in the world who was always by his side and caring about him has passed away. Even if he wanted to talk, he had no one to talk to, so he could only keep it in his heart. When he had nothing to do, he would tell himself those things and words in his heart. He was like an animal chewing its cud.
Yi Mo thought about it, turned into a snake, and did not linger on the tombstone, but crashed into the pile of yellow earth. The yellow earth on the tomb slid down, and a crack suddenly appeared, and Yi Mo went in through the gap.
The tomb was pitch dark, and the smell of the earth mixed with the smell of rotting wood and bones, forming a foul smell that was really unpleasant. Yi Mo seemed to be unaware of it and continued to move forward. He didn’t stop when he touched the wooden coffin, and bumped into it again, making a hole in the coffin. It was still pitch black inside, and the foul smell was even stronger.
Yi Mo followed the hole and dived directly to the bottom of the coffin. When he felt that he had touched a corpse, he changed into a human form and lay inside the coffin.
As soon as he lay down, he felt something pressed against him. He quickly turned sideways and seemed to have bumped into something again. What could it be? Who else could be in this coffin besides Shen Qingxuan? After being made to lie unsteadily again and again, Yi Mo became a little annoyed. He pushed all the skeletons away from under him with one hand and shook his fingertips. A ball of green light floated up, floating above the small space, gradually getting bigger and brighter.
He saw the thing that had just hit him, it was Shen Qingxuan’s finger bone. Picking up the finger bone, Yi Mo muttered to himself: “Even in this state, he still doesn’t behave." He said this shamelessly, not feeling that there was anything wrong with him getting into someone else’s coffin and occupying his territory, and he was very justified.
With the help of the light from overhead, Yi Mo lay on his side and rearranged the bones. He also pulled at the rotten pieces of cloth. All the clothes that Shen Qingxuan was wearing when he was buried were pulled away by him. The rotten pile was an eyesore, so he set a fire in the coffin and controlled it with his magic power to destroy all the dirty things. Fortunately, there was no fire, otherwise the coffin would have spontaneously combusted under the ground, which would have been recorded in the county annals.
After arranging the bones, Yi Mo groped around and found the man’s scalp and hair. He placed them on the skull, but found it ugly, so he tucked the hair and scalp under the pillow.
After doing all this, there was nothing left to do, so Yi Mo lay down again, lying on his side in the man’s coffin, facing the bones with his eyes closed, one hand idly resting on the bones, his fingertips scratching slightly, as if what he held in his arms were not dead bones but a living person. The man was looking at the accounts in his arms, so he closed his eyes and hugged him, scratching his body gently with his fingers. The scratching usually caused the body in his arms to twist a few times, and he would continue to look at the accounts after getting rid of the mischievous fingertips, twisting a few more times… They were obviously interfering with each other, but it seemed as if it should be like this, natural and peaceful.
Yi Mo fell asleep like this.
The bones in his arms were scattered, and when he turned over in his sleep, they were disturbed again, and his ribs and arm bones moved together, and his skull was also tilted, sliding off the jade pillow. Yi Mo woke up, just in time to hold him, and then held him in his arms.
He also murmured in a low voice: “Shen Qingxuan." Look at you, you can’t even sleep peacefully.
After a moment of silence, he took out a brass gourd, opened the gourd, and immediately the aroma from the bottom of the tomb filled his nose. Yi Mo shook the gourd, looked at the skull in his arms, smiled slightly, and began to talk about the gourd and the wine in it.
This is actually the wine he robbed. The only one who can brew this “Hundred Days of Drunk" is the Taoist priest who enlightened him. The wine brewed by the immortals is naturally good wine. He went down the mountain to find his reincarnation, but he couldn’t find it. Instead, he met this old immortal, who was about to open the wine with a rosy face. It is said that it has been brewed for 500 years. For the sake of their old friendship, he was willing to invite him to taste it, so Yi Mo followed him.
This wine is called Hundred Days Drunk. The old man spent five hundred years brewing a wine that can only make people drunk for a hundred days, and he was very proud of it. Yi Mo paused here, stroked the skull in his arms, and asked it: “Do you think he is stupid?" Then he answered himself: “Very stupid."
Such a stupid immortal should be rare in the immortal world. Yi Mo thought, and regardless of the immortal’s howling, he pulled the gourd on his waist, filled it up, and left. The immortal was left behind, jumping up and down, cursing that you, a big worm, are so unkind, so unkind!
Yi Mo lowered his eyes to look at the bones in his arms. The skull did not respond. White bones and dark eye sockets, what was so good about them? Yi Mo took a sip of wine, but he seemed to hear the words of the man in the curtains lifted by the breeze on that rainy night: You bad snake .
—You bad snake.
Yi Mo closed his eyes and drank a full pot of wine from the gourd. His vision suddenly became blurry, as if covered by a layer of white mist. Behind the white mist, he could vaguely see that person, lying on his chest, smiling at him.
Shen Qingxuan.
Yi Mo held the skull in his hands, placed his lips on it, and kissed it gently, carefully and with great care.
You just left like that. Yi Mo thought drunkenly, hugging the corpses around him tightly with sadness .
His lips rubbed against the white bone, and he couldn’t help but mutter to it, “Did I really bully you? You want to pay me back in this life, you are really petty."
He was really drunk, and he hugged Shen Qingxuan’s body tightly, wishing to stay drunk forever .
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