In that era of change, there were many heroes, but the dust finally settled. When the light of Shu Han gradually dimmed in the long river of history, the wise man who entrusted Guchen and the Nine Expeditions to the Central Plains, Wolong Zhuge Liang also came to the end of his life.
In 234 A.D., the autumn wind was wheezing, on the Wuzhang Plain, the stars were fading, and a heavy rain was like crying, accompanied by the death of the great Prime Minister Zhuge Liang.
Shu Han built the capital of Chengdu, and the whole body was moved, and the country was the society, inheriting the mandate of heaven, and the people of An. However, in the hustle and pan of the market, the contest above the temple, and even the war-torn frontier, there are always some warm things that have disappeared.
In the deep alleys of Chengdu City, there is a hermit who is well versed in etiquette but is among the common people, named Li Kui, who is Zhuge Liang's old acquaintance, and is among the people in the days of Shu Han but not stained with dust.
This Li Kui, who took refuge in Zhuge Liang when he was a teenager, looked back and knew that this mountain man was not the body of Emei Hengyu's prisoner, and he was destined to make a difference.
Zhuge Liang did not know Li Kui's loyalty and dedication, but he knew that this person was lonely and quiet.
Throughout that year, Wen Taowu was strategic, and there were so many followers in the world, but the fate was unfortunate, and after Zhuge Liang passed away, those heroes who were monarchs and ministers day and night, and fought on the battlefield, did not go to Wuzhang Yuan one by one.
Or the times have changed, or there are scruples, or there is a long journey, in short, when the righteous and cloudy prime minister lies under the silent starry sky, only Li Kui stepped forward, regardless of the dangers, and set foot alone on the long road between the southwest mountains.
Walking out of the capital, Li Kui trekked alone, wading through surging rivers and mountains, he didn't tell anyone, he had only one thought in his heart - he was going to mourn Zhuge Liang.
Li Kui followed the call of his heart, he was not afraid of the cold and heat, the wind, frost, rain and snow, he did not bend his waist for five buckets of rice, and he did not care about the glory and disgrace of the world. His cloth shoes wore out on the stone road in the mountains, and the initial green of his hat was gradually dappled by the sun, but his steps were consistent, firm and powerful.
Passing through Guansai, whenever night falls, Li Kui ponders in the starlight, recalling the bits and pieces of being with the prime minister, those moments of discussing scriptures in the study and talking and laughing in the mountains and forests seem to be just yesterday. His admiration for Zhuge Liang was beyond words, and he felt an indescribable loneliness in his heart.
The road is far away, the lonely shadow walks alone, in this vast land, Li Kui seems to be a small point, but there is a powerful force in his heart to support him.
This strength comes from his nostalgia for his confidant and the sadness he feels about the prime minister's short rule. Therefore, despite being in a desperate situation, the state of mind is as peaceful as water.
Finally, Li Kui arrived at Wuzhangyuan. The green mountains in front of you are like daisies, and the yellow leaves all over the ground tell everyone that another autumn is coming. In front of Zhuge Liang's tomb, he did not speak grandiosely, nor was he grief-stricken, only a pile of partridge whistles, which was a song that Zhuge Liang loved to listen to, implying that Gao Jie was determined to be in the clouds.
At that moment, it seemed that only Li Kui's back and the sound of the flute conveying mourning were left between heaven and earth. He didn't stay long, and when he finished his condolences, he turned around and said goodbye. At the moment when he left, he seemed to be able to hear the prime minister who had long since gone, and he also whispered thanks in the wind.
After Li Kui returned to Chengdu, he did not publicize his actions. As usual, he was indifferent to fame and fortune, like a sanctimonious hermit. But he was well versed in human feelings, and he knew in his heart that such a lonely ritual would be the deepest nostalgia for a deceased wise man.
In the past of the Three Kingdoms, the only person who went from the capital to Wuzhangyuan to mourn after Zhuge Liang's death was this reclusive hermit Li Kui. In the corner behind that era, there is such a loyal and untold story. This arrogant loyalty, like a clear spring, is still clear in the dust after the prosperity.
It moistens the hearts of those who come after it and warms the long river of history. Although there is no splendid chapter that has been famous for centuries, this purity that is not moved by fame and fortune is a touch of tranquility in that troubled world, and it will remain a legend forever.