The imprint about him that was really left that day was written in the vast snow, covered layer by layer by the heavy snow, and then taken away by footprints little by little. Even Da Luo Jinxian, he will never know.
The real heart, never open.
Melting snow without a trace.
The gift basket is empty, with twelve layers of exquisiteness, twelve ordinary things, and a journey all the way.
He was telling her that he never forgot, in exchange for her being silent in the midnight prairie wind.
Where is my mood stored
You ask me, but I can't give you an answer, or it's in the hideous blood hole on the side of Ri Niang's temple, or it's in the wide-open eyes of Feng Hao in the side hall of Anping Palace, or it's in the lonely place at the foot of Songshan Mountain in the suburbs of Beijing. In the lonely forest, it may have already turned into the paper money that was flying that day, and died with the snow.
The moonlight gradually brightened, a faint red, she sat on the floor, leaning against the window, occasionally tilted her head, and saw the dawn of the sky, which had changed into bright sunlight.
Eleven gifts and one letter were all spent overnight without knowing it.
Those things were scattered on the carpet, she picked them up one by one, except for the ones that had been eaten, they were all put away as they were.
Can't help laughing—Ning Yi lied to her again, saying that Feng Hao's birth date is on, where is it
In the faint sunlight, her smile was no longer as gentle and far away as usual, but real, slightly cool, covered with snow and autumn frost.
Then she slowly covered her face, buried her head in the crook of her arms, and curled up into a ball—a posture to protect herself and reject the outside world.
she does not know.
Someone was sleeping on the railing outside the porch, with his hands on the pillow, his eyes wide open like colorful jewels, looking at the moonlight from the east to the west.
Someone next door was sitting cross-legged, with their palms pressed against the wall, facing the direction where she was leaning against.
At dawn, except for the three people who hadn't slept all night, everyone else was very energetic.
The most plump one was the living Buddha Dama who arrived last night. He said that his arrival was a fake, and that the living Buddha was so old that his bones were brittle.
As soon as the old guy arrived last night, he wanted to announce his existence, but He Lianzheng, who was worried that he was tired, rushed him to his room to sleep, and he didn't allow anyone to disturb the Living Buddha. He woke up early this morning and called him by name He Lianzheng.
Hearing the voice from the direction of the front hall, it seemed a little boiling, Feng Zhiwei opened the door, saw He Lianzheng sleeping in the corridor, and couldn't help being startled.
He Lianzheng turned over and got up, and stretched out his hand to her, "Let's go, let's go to see Dama Allah."
He smiled frankly, and the gesture of reaching out was full of tolerance, but there were thin bloodshot eyes caused by not sleeping all night.
Feng Zhiwei looked at him, and slowly put her hand into his arm.
Before I reached the front hall, I saw Peony Huaer commanding the servants to arrange the guests with great vigor. There were a lot of carpets in the front of a spacious hall, and hundreds of people were already seated, making the front yard noisy. surplus days.
"Where are there so many people?"
"They are all your grandparents, uncles, aunts, aunts, aunts, uncles, uncles, sisters-in-law, younger uncles, daughters-in-law..." Peony Hua'er came over and chatted endlessly.
"Where are there so many relatives?" He Lianzheng disapproved, "From now on, they are all my subordinates and subjects."
"Zha Dalan!" Someone stroked their sleeves and shouted, "Is that your Han girl? God, she looks yellower than a lump of dirt under the grass roots!"
There was laughter from all around, those brothers who coveted the throne no matter how powerful they were, they slapped the ground so much that they were almost on their feet.
"That's your concubine!" He Lianzheng yelled violently, his voice shook the din of the courtyard to silence, "If you don't understand the rules, get out immediately!"
Chunyumeng took his guards and stood in the middle of the crowd with a bang, the clattering sound of long knives and iron armor clashing, his eyes were more radiant than the blades of those long knives.
The voices around were quieter, and some looked hostile.
"Zadalan, are you going to use force in front of Dama Allah?" The man squinted at He Lianzheng.
He Lianzheng sneered, and immediately began to roll up his sleeves, but someone pulled him away.
"Zadalan is a prairie man, so he can't do anything in front of the Living Buddha." Feng Zhi smiled and walked over.
The man snorted coldly and didn't even bother to look at her.
"My concubine and my subordinates are Han Chinese, so we don't necessarily need to abide by certain rules." Feng Zhiwei straightened her sleeves slowly, and turned her head violently at Chunyu.
With a happy "Hey!" Chunyu Meng stepped forward and kicked the man's desk over.
"I just don't like you! If you have the guts, do it!"
"Bah!" The man stood up brazenly.
The two fought together. Chun Yumeng, who came from a family of generals and had been taught by famous martial artists for a long time, was naturally not comparable to those chaotic men in the grassland.
The faces of the people around were ready to move with anger, Feng Zhiwei said indifferently: "Whoever wants to fight in groups, we will accompany them."
No one could beat her three thousand guards in a group fight, not to mention that Chun Yumeng also beat her one-on-one to the point where he couldn't resist, and everyone could only watch helplessly. Stuffed in his mouth, "Grandma's, look clearly, is it Huang? Huang?"
Peony Hua'er stared at Chunyumeng's back, drooling on the insteps, "Why didn't I realize that this kid is so heroic and strong before? Look at the question, Huang? Huang? Huang!"
Feng Zhiwei glanced at her, thinking, witch, why are you so excited when you hear the word "yellow"
"See it clearly, right? If you see it clearly, you can get out!" Chunyu raised his hand fiercely, and smashed the guy's huge body a few feet away, hitting the ground with a loud bang.
Now more than a hundred people were finally quiet.
"Who is this man?" Feng Zhiwei looked at the man who was still struggling to get up from the pit, and asked.
"Kulcha's eldest son, Jiade." Peony Hua'er whispered in Feng Zhiwei's ear, "It's because he refuses to hand over the 20,000 military power."
"The king's army of the Huzhuo tribe is different from the scattered civilians of other tribes." Feng Zhiwei said, "In view of the support of the Huzhuo tribe for the imperial court, the king's army is formed independently, and the Yuzhou Liangdao is responsible for part of the food and grass. , refuse to hand in? It’s very simple, I’ll write a letter and ask Chunyumeng to hand it over to the Yuzhou Grain Road, saying that the grassland has enough grain at present, but it is expected that there may be a blizzard this winter, and there is no large-scale storage on the grassland. The granary, why not store half of it in the Yuzhou granary first, and then...you know what to do."