In the wind and snow, the death knell continued, and in the majestic Shengjin Palace Chengguangzu Temple, a black figure slowly turned around, walked along the long corridor, step by step into the heart of Daxia, the lights flickered It shone behind him, stretching the shadow very long.
The nineteenth day of April 770 in the Baicang calendar was an unforgettable day. On that day, Yanbei King’s family was massacred except for Yan Xun’s eldest son who had been hostage in the imperial capital all year round. The undead of Yan’s family could not rest in peace after death. The head is different, and the bones are ashes.
At this point, the Yanbei Lion Banner, which was once powerful in northern Xinjiang, began a long silence. While the imperial nobles who tried to carve up Yanbei's land were clapping and congratulating each other, a grand celebration was held on the northwest prairie. The eleven tribes of Quanrong gathered together, presided over by Nayan Minglie, the Great Khan, to celebrate the decline of the Yanbei Lion Clan, to celebrate the unlucky death of Yanshi City, and to celebrate the selfless sacrifice of the Great Xia Emperor for their Quanrong. The family opened up a piece of fertile and thick soil in the northern border, and the great Dog Rong God blessed this sturdy nation. In this regard, they firmly believe that no one can resist the blades of the prairie men anymore.
At this moment, in a remote and narrow room in the dilapidated Qianmensuo, the cold wind howled, the roof was covered with snow, there was no brazier, no heating bed, only a dilapidated bedding, which was black and dirty, emitting a stench.
Outside the door, there was the sound of soldiers drinking and punching, and the strong smell of meat wafted into the room far away. The young man's complexion is pale, his forehead is hot, his lips are dry and cracked, with unhealthy white lip skin, his sword-shaped eyebrows are tightly knit together, large drops of cold sweat slipped from his temples, and his black hair is already soaked.
The sound of bangs and bangs echoed constantly in the room. The eight-year-old child struggled to lift the chair, then smashed it hard on the ground, again and again, and finally dismantled a chair into a pile of scattered firewood. She took a deep breath, wiped off her sweat, and then lit a fire in the middle. The firewood crackled and the room became warm immediately.
After carefully boiling a bowl of water, the child climbed onto the cold kang, held up the boy's head, and called softly, "Yan Xun, wake up, drink some water."
The young man could no longer hear the sound, and did not respond at all when he heard the words.
The child frowned, picked up a rough chopstick from the rice bowl on the table, pried open the boy's teeth, and poured hot water into it.
The sound of coughing suddenly sounded, Yan Xun's chest shook violently, and he coughed loudly, spitting out all the water he had just fed.
Chu Qiao looked carefully, and there were traces of blood swimming in the water. Her chest suddenly felt tight, she pursed her mouth tightly, sniffled her nose, then climbed out of bed and continued to boil water.
"Yan Xun?" As night fell, the cold in the room became unbearable, Chu Qiao covered the young man with fur and quilt, and she only wore a thin coat, shrinking beside Yan Xun like a small animal , holding a white porcelain bowl, said softly, "I added water to the rice to make porridge, you get up and drink some."
The boy didn't speak, as if he had fallen asleep, but under the moonlight, there were traces of eyeballs rolling in his closed eyes. Chu Qiao knew that he wasn't asleep, he was awake all the time, but he didn't want to open his eyes.
Chu Qiao sighed slowly, put down her rice bowl, hugged her knees, and sat down against the wall.
It was snowing heavily outside the door, and through the decayed doors and windows, you could still see the pale trees hanging under the moonlight. Her voice was very low, and she said slowly: "Yan Xun, I am a person with nothing. I came to a strange place. I have no power, no relatives, no reasons. My family members were killed. They Some were beheaded, some were distributed, some were beaten to death, some had their arms cut off and thrown into the lake to feed the fish, and some were raped at a young age, and their bodies were loaded into a carriage, like The world should be fair, even slaves, even if the blood is low, but they should have the right to live. I don't understand why people are born with different ranks, why wolves are destined to go Eating rabbits and rabbits can’t resist? But now I understand, it’s because rabbits are not strong enough, they don’t have sharp claws and teeth, if they want to avoid being overlooked, they have to stand up first. Yan Xun, I’m very small, but What I have is patience, and what I have is time, those who owe debts, none of them can escape. I must live and watch them pay the price for what they have done, or even if I die, I will not rest in peace."
The boy's eyelashes were trembling slightly, his lips were pursed, the snow was flying outside the window, and the cold wind was blowing in along the window, making a whirring sound.
Chu Qiao's voice became deeper and deeper, "Yan Xun, do you still remember what your mother told you before she died? She said that you should live well, even if life is worse than death, you must live well, because you still have a lot of things to do. Didn’t do it. Do you know what it is? It’s bearing the burden of humiliation, sacrificing courage, waiting for an opportunity, and taking revenge on all those who killed your relatives! There are too many people’s expectations and too many people’s expectations on you. Blood, there are too many pairs of eyes watching you from the sky, do you have the heart to let them down? Do you have the heart to let them die? Do you have the heart to let your father’s foundation be ruined? Are you willing to die in this tattered house? On the bed? Can you bear the peace of mind of those who killed your parents and loved ones?"
Chu Qiao's voice suddenly became hoarse, as if a knife had slashed across the ice, kicking up tiny icicles, and she said almost word by word: "Yan Xun, you must live, even if you are like a dog, you must live Only by living can there be hope; only by living can one have the ability to fulfill unfulfilled wishes; only by living can one day get back what belongs to you. In this world, others can never count on it, but you can count on it , only you."
Heavy breathing sounded suddenly, Chu Qiao got up, picked up the bowl, and put it in front of the young man. Her eyes were bright and full of power, as if a raging fire was crazily raging and burning.
"Yan Xun, live on and kill them all!"
A ray of light suddenly shot out from the boy's eyes, carrying bloodthirsty hatred and unwillingness to destroy the world. He nodded heavily, and repeated in a low voice like a nightmare: "Live and kill them all!"
The cold wind howled outside the house, and the two young children stood in a cold broken house, clenched their fists tightly.
Many years later, Yan Xun, who had grown up, recalled that night again, and still had lingering fears in his heart. He didn't know, if he hadn't softened his heart and let go of the stubborn and disheveled little slave, if he hadn't helped the child repeatedly out of curiosity, if he hadn't wanted to say goodbye to the child on a whim on the night of parting , Will everything of today disappear like a flower in a mirror and a moon in water? Will that noble young man who has been well-clothed and well-fed all his life be knocked down by a huge disaster when his family is ruined? Will he end up depressed and full of sorrow but lonely and useless
However, there are not so many ifs in this world after all, so, on that night, two children who had nothing had made a poisonous oath secretly in the ice and snow.
Live, even like a dog, live!
The long night was about to pass, and before dawn, Shengjin Palace sent an envoy to pass on the letter. No matter what the reason is, whether it's the uneven distribution of spoils, cold lips, or other secrets, in short, under the joint pressure of other vassal kings in the empire, Yan Xun, the eldest son of Yanbei who has no faults, will succeed King Yanbei throne.
However, the time was postponed until after his twentieth-year-old conferment ceremony. Before he came of age, Yanbei was in charge of the Shengjin Palace and other vassal princes in turn, while Yan Xun's son continued to stay in the Zhenhuang Imperial Capital, where he was cared for by the imperial family until he grew up.
Before that, there are still eight years, as long as another eight years.
On April 21st, Yan Xun moved out of the Proton Mansion and moved into the Shengjin Palace, which was the most heavily guarded in the Great Xia Dynasty.
That morning, the wind was howling and the snow was flying. Yan Xun was wearing a Yanbei sable coat, standing on the magnificent Zijin Square, looking at the Jiuyou Terrace and Zijin Gate not far in front of him. Behind them was the Imperial Palace. northwest. There used to be his home, the land where he grew up, and his beloved relatives. Now, they have all left him, but he firmly believes that they must be standing high above the sky, watching him quietly with open eyes, waiting for his iron hooves to step into Yanbei, into Shangshen. , Break through He Tongshan's gap!
On that day, it was four months since the Empire’s Western Expeditionary Corps sent troops. Although the military chaos in the Northwest was handled in a mess, they decisively found the culprit. King Yanbei’s family was massacred, and the iron-blooded army of the Great Xia Dynasty once again used thunder. Maintained the dignity of the empire.
However, many years later, when the historians of later generations turned over the historical picture scroll again, they had to sigh that it was from this moment that the Great Xia Dynasty planted disasters for its demise in the future. Rebirth in the swamp is the determination and cruelty that ravages everything, abandons everything, and burns everything. The blade of the world-destroying knife fiercely draws a bloodstain in the heart of the surviving young man. Completely buried.
The boy turned around, took the hand of the eight-year-old child, and walked straight into the heavy palace gate. The gate closed slowly with a bang, engulfing all the light, and the strong wind howled, but was blocked by the tall city wall. Only the sharp eyes of the goshawk could look down from the sky and see the two figures clearly .
Under the bloody sunset, among the magnificent palace towers, their figures looked so small, yet so tall and straight.
One day, they will blaze a trail side by side, and step out through this purple-gold and vermilion-lacquered gate with their heads held high!
God firmly believes that there will be such a day!
(end of this volume)
Volume 3: Ancient Capital of Zhenhuang