Perplexed, Ren Ping opened his eyes from his sleep, looked up, and saw that he was lying in an antique wooden house, with a basket made of straw mats hanging on the beam, and a handful hanging on the opposite side. Bronze sword, she sat up, looked down at her body, white coat, trousers, white headscarf, it seemed... Forget it.
She sighed, jumped down from her sex, put on her shoes, looked around for a while, and walked out from the inside.
The outside is also a log house made of logs, with a wooden rectangular table in the middle, benches on the left and right, and cabinets on the opposite side. Some living utensils are placed on it. On the side of the wall, there is a purple copper incense burner. The incense rose slowly, spitting out a faint cloud of smoke, making this quaint house suddenly become a bit extraordinary.
Where is this
I touched my forehead, blinked, trying my best to remember what I had before falling asleep, but after thinking about it for a long time, I couldn't remember it anymore. I couldn't help but sigh, but I lowered my head but was stunned. The bottom right corner of the white coat was obviously stained with some blood, rust, and some horrible.
what is this
Ren Ping subconsciously touched the stain, and when he was surprised, he suddenly saw that the door was pushed open with a "creak". A scribe in ancient costume walked in with a firewood basket on his back and a round-necked bun. With a beard, dark skin, thick eyebrows and big eyes, he raised his head to see Ren Ping, his eyes flickered, and he nodded slightly, put down the basket behind him, and closed the door.
"you are… "
Ren Ping looked at the scribe in surprise, why is there such an ancient person? Where is this place again? But saw that the scribe walked to the table, loosened the sleeve cage he was tied up, and made a gesture at Ren Ping, brushed the tabletop lightly, sat down, raised his sleeves again, and pointed to the opposite stool to speak: "Please sit down." The tone was a bit blunt and weird, but he could barely understand it.
Ren Ping blinked, did not move, only opened his mouth and asked, "Who are you? Are you acting?"
"Acting?" The scribe blinked slowly, then smiled suddenly: "What does this mean?"
"What do you mean by this statement?" Ren Ping saw that the scribe was speaking in ancient ways, and he couldn't help but shook his head, looked around, wondering if he had strayed into the filming scene of a certain TV series, this one was playing against him? But it's not right. I am obviously an epidemic prevention doctor, so how can I act? Oh, is it possible... Ren Ping looked down at his white coat, is it possible to cross
Then here... what dynasty is it? Where did you travel to
While thinking about it, I suddenly saw a cup of green tea rising in front of me. When I looked up, I saw the scribe smiling at himself: "Now, please have tea."
Ren Ping saw that the scribe was a woodcutter, but he spoke elegantly and had a simple expression. He also let down his guard for a few minutes. He took the tea cup, took a sip, and whispered, "Thank you."
"Please sit down." The scribe flicked the stool with his sleeve and pointed.
Seeing that the scribe was innocent, Ren Ping thanked him, went to the stool and sat down, put the tea cup down, and saw that the tea cup was made of purple sand, it was antique and very elegant, but he couldn't tell. What dynasty came, pondered, and said: "Excuse me, sir, what dynasty is this?"
"What dynasty?" When the scribe heard this, his face suddenly showed a bit of vicissitudes, and he looked up and down Ren Ping, and sighed with his palm: "So the dynasty has changed again?"
"What is the dynasty of Mr.?" Ren Ping looked at the scribes, and then he could see how the scribes were dressed, square turban, round-necked shirt, and a pair of dragon boots. He suddenly blurted out, "Ming Dynasty?"
"Yes, I am from the Ming Dynasty." Seeing Ren Ping telling his dynasty, the scribes could not help but smile, nodded to Ren Ping, pondered, and then asked: "Then, this little lady, you are again What dynasty?"
"Me?" Ren Ping pointed to herself, and suddenly a deep sadness struck her heart. She shook her head, and said with a strong smile: "It's a bad dynasty."
"Not a great dynasty?" The scribe repeated this, with a wry smile: "Is it worse than I was at that time?"
"The Ming Dynasty is not bad." Ren Ping shook her head. Although she was a doctor and didn't know much about history, she also knew that the Ming Dynasty was also regarded as a grand unification in the past.
Unexpectedly, when the scribe heard this, his expression suddenly became gloomy, and a bit of mist suddenly rose in his eyes. Gradually, the mist became thick and dark again, and the bottom was not seen: "To tell you, I am Hong Wu. It’s not too bad for the Lord to create a hundred years, but... But... "Speaking, the scribe suddenly smiled bitterly, and gently flicked the tea cup with his sleeve, took a breath, picked it up, and drank it in one fell swoop.
Ren Ping looked down at the tea cup in front of him. For some reason, his expression gradually became miserable, and a weird smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: "No matter how bad it is, no matter how bad it is, it's not as bad as my time." With that, he picked up the tea cup and drank it all in one go.
"It seems that the lady is a person with a story." After drinking the tea, the scribe's expression relaxed a lot, and he tapped the table with his fingers, making a "beating" sound.
"Yeah." Ren Ping seemed unwilling to say more, he only sighed, touched the blood on his coat subconsciously, shook his head and said; "Mr. is also a story."
The scribe gave a "um", picked up the teapot, poured a cup of tea, slapped lightly, patted the table top, and suddenly chanted:
Ren Pingjing listened.
"Have you heard of Governor Yuan?" the scribe asked softly.
"Master Yuan?" Ren Ping shook his head, "I don't know."
The scribe smiled bitterly: "It seems that he is already silent and obscure in later generations."
Ren Ping apologized: "I'm sorry, I'm a doctor, so... Oh, is he famous?"
The scribe did not answer, was silent for a while, and suddenly looked out the window, the opposite window was open, the green hills were faint, the green water was lingering, and a gust of wind came in. It was a good time with light wind and light clouds. He suddenly sighed: "Heroes." What about the nameless, if there is a flaw today, I will tell you his story, does the lady want to hear it?"
Ren Ping blinked, turned the tea cup with his hand, smiled and nodded: "Okay."
The scribe seemed very happy with Ren Ping’s attitude. He lifted the teapot and walked up to Ren Ping and poured it on himself, then filled himself with the tea cup, took a sip, and said softly: "You should not be from the era of Tarzi ,is it?"
"Da Zi?" Ren Ping was taken aback, shook his head and said, "No, I'm from the last days."
"The last days?" The scribe was taken aback: "What dynasty is that?"
Ren Ping seemed unwilling to say more, and only vaguely said: "Who was your husband in the Ming Dynasty? But is he related to that Master Yuan?"
The scribe gently shook his head: "No, on the contrary, I was a Jinshi in Jiajing for 30 years. When Governor Yuan died, I was a prison historian in Dali Temple called Tengbao."
"Oh." Ren Ping nodded: "Sir, continue."
The scribe hesitated and asked, "Can you believe that the hero is guilty?"
"The hero is guilty?" Ren Ping was taken aback, blinked, and suddenly sneered: "It's hard to tell. Most people in this world don't have eyesight."
"Yes, it's hard to tell." The scribe suddenly clapped his hands, stood up, walked to the window, opened the half of the window door, and let the sun hail in. The house became brighter and brighter and the sun reflected in the long. On the table, beautiful reflections, floating in the sun, jumping up and down, everything is quiet and beautiful, the scribe calmly said: "This is a very long story."