Pei Xiaoyuan never knew that there is a kind of journey day and night in the world, which brings not hardship but boiling blood. The mountains and rivers are far away, and people cannot grow wings, so they can't leave Pengdao in the morning and reach Cangwu in the evening.
He seemed to be on his way without getting tired. The post stations along the way that could comfort the hard journey could not stop his eager steps. He often passed by them after changing his mount and replenishing his dry food. When he was really tired, he would go to the wilderness, under a tree, in a deserted village, or in a small temple, with the sky as his roof and the ground as his mat. He would close his eyes, wake up, and continue on his way with excitement.
In the nineteenth year of Qiande, on an evening in mid-spring, he finally returned to Chang'an.
The Wei River remained the same, flowing eastward. Chang'an no longer looked like the snow and ice it had when he left. Reeds sprouted on the banks, elms and willows were interspersed along the yellow dusty road, and new green blossomed everywhere on the branches. He rode his horse to the bridgehead of the Wei River. The clear sound of the horse's hooves startled an old bird that had built a nest on an old tree on the bank. The old bird held food in its mouth, and several chicks that had just hatched a few days ago opened their mouths to the sky in the nest, making bursts of anxious chirping sounds as they waited for food.
Pei Xiaoyuan slowed down his horse's hooves and walked past.
Several pedestrians came down from the bridge across the street, among them a woman holding a child. They were probably villagers who had entered the city during the day and were leaving the city in the evening to go home together. As they were getting off the bridge, they suddenly ran into him. They all looked scared, lowered their heads to avoid him, and walked around him from a distance.
Pei Xiaoyuan was puzzled at first, until the evening breeze carried the child's timid voice, "Mother, was that a bad guy just now—"
His mother covered her child's mouth with her hand, looked back at Pei Xiaoyuan, and the group quickly quickened their pace and left.
Pei Xiaoyuan looked down at himself.
He was dressed like an ordinary soldier, with a knife stuck in his body. After walking here, his boots and clothes were covered with dust and mud. He touched his face again and paused.
Although I couldn't see it, I knew that it was a face with messy hair and beard and a dusty face.
No wonder passers-by and children were so scared.
His haggard and shabby appearance was almost no different from that of a vagrant soldier or a bandit.
At this moment, he suddenly remembered the whale ointment and the advice Li Hui gave him before he set out, and he couldn't help but shook his head slightly as if in self-mockery.
The faint sound of evening drums in the evening breeze suddenly disappeared, and the surroundings seemed to become completely quiet.
The sky lost the last ray of afterglow and it became dark.
Pei Xiaoyuan also slowly stopped in the middle of the bridge.
He looked ahead at the vague horizon that was gradually merging into the night.
Chang'an is right there.
Along the way, he slept in the open air, traveled under the stars, and wasn't this the moment he dreamed of
However, he stopped here and found it difficult to move forward.
It was definitely not just because of the sidelong glances from passersby just now.
Over the past few days, the closer he got to Chang'an, the more hesitant his steps became. Until this moment, the city was finally in sight.
After crossing this bridge, he would reach Chang'an. As long as he walked a few dozen miles, walked the last section of the road, and opened the city gate, he would be able to go there and see the person in his heart.
But he stopped, his feet as if tied up by ropes, on the Weishui Bridge.
The night gradually darkened, and the river wind made people's skin and bones cold.
Finally, he moved, urged his horse down the bridge, and went no further.