The fire burned up, and it was as red as hot blood. The sharp arrow escaped from the golden crossbow and hit the heart of the sun. The cry of the gods came from the sky, blood dripped into rain, the earth broke, mountains collapsed, sea water rolled, and towering ice peaks were pulled up. The world is like a huge melting pot, in which the blood and tears of the common people are cooked.
In the boundless darkness, his eyeballs were moving rapidly. The blood-red light covered his heart, he saw the pitch-black battle armor, saw the shark blue sword, saw the full moon in the dark night, and saw the vast snowfield. The fighting crowd fell down like wheat waves, piled up with flesh and blood, covering the sky and covering the sky, and the goshawks and vultures swooped down, with the phosphorescence of carrion shining on their claws. A strong wind blew up in the wilderness, surrounded by the sound of overwhelming fighting, the wind blew on his face, with a dry air of sand, as sharp as a knife.
The drums of war became more and more urgent, the enemy army came overwhelmingly, the earth shook, horseshoes galloped, and the dark clouds were pressing on the top of the head, like fierce dragons.
"kill-"
"Kill kill—"
"Kill kill kill—"
His eyes suddenly opened, and all the illusions disappeared in an instant, and he was lying alone on a dragon bed that was bigger than ordinary people's bedrooms. Golden dragons are embroidered on the dark black satin, and the ferocious horns of its head are raised so flamboyantly. Even in such a dark room, the golden silk thread can still shine fiercely.
He didn't move, didn't speak, the temple hair on his forehead was slightly damp, but he didn't use his hands to wipe away the sweat slowly flowing into his neck.
The night was so quiet, there was no voice, no footsteps, no cicadas, not even the sound of the wind. Only his breathing, so slow, so heavy, one, one, and another.
No matter how long the night is, it will eventually pass.
He has always been a patient person, before, now, and in the future.
A faint red light suddenly flickered on the window, his eyes were attracted there, he frowned slightly, and the servant's hurried footsteps came from outside the hall.
"What's going on outside?" His voice was a little dry, but his voice was still calm as usual.
"Reporting to Your Majesty, there is a fire at Changle Palace. The Water Dragon Bureau has entered the palace and is fighting the fire."
The servant's voice was still high-pitched, and in such a night, it was so soft that it made one's spine chill.
He looked at the shadow of the tree outside the window and sat quietly on the bed for a long time. Suddenly, he got out of bed and was about to walk out of the bedroom with bare feet. More than a dozen palace maids who were watching the night ran forward in panic, and put on bright yellow nightgowns and dragon boots for him. He went straight out of the main hall and strode towards Changle Palace. The head of the internal servants hastily called a large number of guards to accompany him, and the palace people carried lanterns and followed behind, meandering and winding, in a long row, heading towards Changle Palace in such a mighty way.
"Hit! Hit me to death!" Before approaching Changle Palace, the voice of the servant came from afar.
He walked over calmly, separated by a long canal, and saw under the moon door in the corridor, several palace officials were surrounding several young children, who were pressed against the railing, and the servants raised their voices Pick up the board and pat it hard. Their trousers had been smashed, and their blood was sticking to their buttocks. At first, they could scream a few times, but after that, they couldn't even scream.
"I set the fire! Kill me if you dare!" A thin child suddenly shouted. She had been beaten to the point of being out of shape, but her small face was still stubbornly raised, and she said in a cold voice, "I just I hate that I can't burn you Yanbei dogs to death!"
These are the children left over from the previous dynasty. After Yanbei's army rushed into Zhenhuang, all the nobles of Daxia who had no time to escape were slaughtered bloody. Only these young children survived under the wolf knives of the soldiers. After all, at that time, they were just a group of five or six-year-old dolls, and even the most ruthless soldiers would feel soft after killing ten or eight of them. Would you make such a crazy move today
Changle Palace is the palace of the newly promoted Yumeiren. Tonight, he turned over the signboard of Yumeiren, but he didn't go there because he was temporarily tired.
Hatred is indeed the hardest thing in this world, even if steel knives are devoured by raging fire, or icebergs melt under the scorching sun, hatred cannot be wiped out.
"Your Majesty." The chief servant knelt on the ground, his back trembling. He didn't know why he was so scared, but he felt the cold rising from the soles of his feet, and the trembling spread to his whole body, and he couldn't stop it.
"Go back to the palace." The brocade of the golden dragon on the black background swept across the branches beside him, and he came rushing forward, only took one look, then turned and left.
The night is still pitch black, like the tip of a pen soaked with ink. His figure disappeared into the black corridor, looming, the cold wind blowing past, kicking up fine fly ash on the ground, no sound could be heard, only the weak screams and curses of the child echoed in the air.
"I want to avenge my mother!"
"Evil Yanbei dog!"
"You guys must die!"
"Our king will return! You will regret it!"
…
The night was long, the battle armor in the arsenal was stained with a layer of frost, and there was a river of blood under the moon gate, and the child's body was dragged out of the palace gate, thrown on the mass grave, and devoured by wild dogs.
In this world, there are too few legends, and most of the unwilling people have died in the abyss of hatred, and those who can bear the humiliation and climb up may not necessarily be truly happy.
But life is better than death.
He sat quietly in front of the window, wearing a white jade wrench on his severed finger. Because the finger was a bit small, there was almost a big gap in some places. The wrench finger was already broken, and the inside was stitched with gold thread. It was in tatters. Even if it was thrown on the side of the street, no one would pick it up.
He rubbed the old wrench with his fingers, the calluses on his fingertips were hard, and when he touched the white jade wrench, he made a very soft sound. He lowered his head and looked at the faint patterns on his fingers. Vaguely, the long sword in his heart seemed to be out of its sheath again, bloody and ferociously flickering. In the bright white light of the sword, a familiar face was reflected.
"Regret?" He sneered silently.
Those emotions that ordinary people should have, such as vulnerability, such as fear, such as dread, or, what the child said, regret, he does not allow himself to have.
Because those things have no effect other than making him feel sick.
The great cause has been accomplished, the blood feud has been avenged, and he seeks benevolence and gets benevolence.
Do you regret it
He closed his eyes, and a ray of light appeared from the far horizon, through the window, and shone on his sharp-edged face. The entire palace is made of ebony and obsidian, and when the sun is rising like this, it has a suffocating and depressing beauty.
He has the blood of fighting in the land of Yanbei, and his bones are filled with the stagnation that he has endured for many years. In his dreams, the long river is flooding, and the soldiers and horses break through the Zhenhuang Mountain. How could he regret it
He raised his eyes, only to see the vast sky and the earth, and the flying birds circling. It was no longer the palm-sized piece that he had when he was a child, and he was so embarrassed that he didn't even dare to stay on the moon.
regret? He scoffed.
On March 16th, an urgent report came from the governor of Dongye County, saying that a group of rebels had been captured, and one of them seemed to be of good status.
The Ministry of Punishments immediately ordered that the man be brought to Beijing.
Half a month later, the man was finally tied up in front of his eyes, but seeing sculpted eyebrows and phoenix eyes, high nose and thin lips, even in such a distressed situation, he still couldn't conceal his handsomeness and extraordinaryness.
Yan Xun sat on the throne, looked at the former proud son of heaven, and did not speak for a long time. Instead, he raised his blood-stained face, looked at him with a faint smile, and greeted him casually like an old friend meeting: "Young Master Yan, long time no see."
Yan... Shizi... is really a long-lost address, he nodded calmly and replied: "Mr. Mu."
"It's been a long time since I saw you, Prince Yan's demeanor is even better than before."
"Really?" Yan Xun said indifferently, "Young master is a little different."
Mu Yun said with a smile: "Feng Shui turns around, flowers don't last a hundred days, and the world is changeable, which is normal."
"Little Grandpa can take it easy, he is worthy of being a hero."
Mu Yun suddenly laughed, shook his head and said: "The hero is dead long ago, and those who survived are just the ones who have to endure humiliation and try to survive. Thank you son, I will soon end this embarrassing situation for me."
"It seems that the little prince is already a little impatient."
Mu Yun expressed the emotion of meeting a confidant, bowed his head and saluted: "I hope that your son will be successful."
Yan Xun's gaze suddenly became a bit sharp, it was the spirit of walking among the army all the year round, like a murderous arrow, one shot was enough to pierce eighteen layers of cowhide. However, in this man's eyes, he saw nothing.
The sword can conquer the world, but it can never conquer the hearts of the people. In this ugly and dirty land, there are still some stubborn souls.
He waved his hand casually, "Then I won't give it away."
Mu Yun smiled freely, with fluttering sleeves, even though he was covered with scars, he still did not diminish the aristocratic spirit of the Tian family.
"Your Majesty has a lot of things to do, so please stay."
The sun shines through the window lattice, casting beams of light circles.
When he was young and vigorous, he was disliked by the eyes, in the martial arts hall, he fought openly and secretly, and when he grew up, he fought for interests. After all, at the end of the day, he was still standing here, watching that man of noble birth and always proud face step by step up to the execution platform.
His chin was raised slightly, and a small wind blew past his ears. For a long, long time, he didn't want to speak. There was a kind of tiredness that pierced into his heart without him noticing it for a while. From such a distance, he seems to have heard the sound of guillotines breaking through the wind on Jiuyou Terrace, his proud head fell into the dust, his crouching body could no longer stand upright, and his stubborn and fearless eyes would eventually be closed forever.
dignity? pride? Royalty? blood? stubborn? belief
All in all, what is important
How can someone who has never fallen to the bottom, who has never climbed out of the situation where he wants to die, understand what is most important
Everything is based on the premise of survival. If a person dies, there is nothing left. Living is the most important thing.
He slowly opened his eyes, civil and military officials knelt before him, the silence of the hall was chilly, the air pressure was so low that it was almost suffocating. He could clearly see someone trembling slightly, they were all afraid of him, maybe hated him, but so what? After all, he is the king of this land after all, they all need to submit to him, that's enough, that's enough.