Zhao Rong buried Liu Sanbian under an unknown green mountain.
There are no eye-catching scenery or intriguing stories around.
This is just an ordinary green hill.
A low hilltop.
Just like this morning that buried Liu Sanbian.
Ordinary.
Zhao Rong originally wanted to bury Liu Sanbian next to his father's grave.
But that day, not long after Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao "razed" the Qin Mansion in Liangjing to the ground.
The Wei officials and the remaining members of the Langxi Qin clan began an overwhelming pursuit of the culprit.
Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao had no choice but to take Liu Sanbian's body and escape day and night without stopping.
There were some setbacks along the way, but generally he escaped to the border of Wei Dynasty smoothly.
Now that we have arrived at a safe place, we are about to leave Da Wei.
Only then did Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao have time to let the deceased rest in peace, at least in Liu Sanbian's hometown.
He deliberately chose this remote and quiet place.
Facing south.
The direction facing Liangjing of the Great Wei Dynasty was also the direction Liu Sanbian came from, the direction he kept looking back, and the direction of home.
The woods were filled with mist at dawn.
Stripes of light golden light leaked through the cracks in the moist leaves.
The morning air is still cold, but has the smell of earth.
In front of a newly erected solitary grave.
Zhao Rong lit three sticks of incense.
Take the yellow paper from Su Xiaoxiao's hand.
Squat down.
Light a fire with her and burn paper.
The solitary grave is remote.
There is no one around.
There were only two of them, busy in the wilderness.
A Confucian scholar and a fox demon.
Visit the grave of a warrior.
Zhao Rong stood in front of the tomb.
Take out a jug of wine.
It's not some fairy wine, but it was bought from the open-air wine shop where Liu Sanbian stopped briefly on his way to his death that day.
Zhao Rong thought at that time that he would use it.
He poured wine across the tomb.
Look at this lonely tomb quietly.
At the head is a simple tombstone.
Blank with no words.
It's not that Zhao Rong can't write inscriptions, on the contrary, he knows many good inscriptions.
Either generous, tragic, philosophical, or broad-minded.
No matter what happens, he can also engrave Liu Sanbian's name on it.
But he still didn't write it.
It was left to the child named Qingshan to do it in the future.
When Zhao Rong gives the relics to Liu Qingshan, he will tell him truthfully where his father's tomb is and why his father died.
Tell him that during the long journey, every night with a bonfire and wine, the taciturn Liu Sanbian would always talk about him tirelessly.
Tell him that whenever he hears the word Qingshan, no matter when or where he hears it, the warmest and gentlest smile will always bloom on that sinister and fierce face.
Tell him that it's not that Liu Sanbian doesn't care about him, but that as a son of man, he must fulfill his responsibility for the extremely unsatisfactory result and ask "why" in person?
Zhao Rong would point Liu Qingshan in that direction and ask him to carve the inscription himself, because he was also the Son of Man.
The wine in the pot has been spilled.
Not a drop fell.
Zhao Rong stood quietly.
Su Xiaoxiao was squatting on the ground, looking at the blazing flames.
The two of them were speechless.
When the flame burns out.
Zhao Rong turned around, picked up the book box, and left directly.
Su Xiaoxiao hurriedly followed, but as he walked, he couldn't help but look back.
That was her companion along the way with Zhao Rong. Not long ago, his voice and appearance were still in her mind, but now he was lying alone in a cold wooden coffin, sleeping forever.
Su Xiaoxiao hates separation, hates death, and hates all sad stories.
so.
She will cherish the things she already has.
The little fox demon quietly glanced at Zhao Rong's thin back.
The two of them walked away, leaving the lonely grave behind, and embarked on their journey north again.
Zhao Rong did not look back in the end.
In fact, he didn't feel sad.
Even that day, behind a window on Zhuque Street, he witnessed Liu Sanbian's death process. In addition to the last finger, it gave him a shocking and inexplicable martial arts insight.
He is not sad.
Just a simple thought came to my mind.
Oh, he's dead.
only.
on the journey afterwards.
Sometimes when drinking at a wine shop, I would habitually buy an extra bottle, but after being slightly stunned, I would silently reach out and put away half of the wine money.
Sometimes during the day, when he was fooling around with Su Xiaoxiao, who was happy again, and bullying the stupid girl, he would turn his head and look around inexplicably. In his field of vision, the silent man who would silently watch their excitement was no longer in his sight.
Sometimes when I sit quietly by the fire in the early morning, when I hear Su Xiaoxiao getting up at night, I will look at him in confusion, but then I will relax my brows, look back calmly, and look at the cheerfully beating flames, oh, it turns out that it is not that person anymore.
He stayed up late at night.
Zhao Rong was not sad, just a little missed.
Unlike his longing for Qingjun and Qian'er, Liu Sanbian was the first person he missed in this world after awakening his past life memories.
I miss our first meeting at Longquandu because of a spiritual stone.
There are also those times of martial arts training and walking under the moon...
Zhao Rong understood somewhat.
It turns out that the wire was not broken.
The thread that pulled him and connected his empty heart to the thick and solid earth.
There was no break at all.
On the contrary, it became stronger.
He no longer has a sense of indifference and absurdity about the world.
Whether it was the first time I killed someone not long ago, or the people and scenery I pass by when I'm on the road now.
It's all real.
He is who he is.
He is Zhao Rong.
He is the Confucian scholar Zhao Ziyu who grew up in Qianjing of the Chu Dynasty in Wangquezhou, Xuanhuang Realm, and married into Concubine Zhao Ling.
He is seventeen years old.
His "story" has just begun!
This day.
Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao came to a small border town with strong folk customs.
We walked into a mountain forest.
According to the route on the mountain and river map, this is the last country under the mountains.
Pass through it and you will reach Lidu.
noon.
The two hurriedly lit a fire to eat, and then hurried on their way.
Zhao Rong glanced at the sky, which was gradually getting gloomier.
The sun, which was still shining brightly in the morning, has hidden behind the dark clouds.
The air was so hot it was suffocating.
Su Xiaoxiao handed over a silk handkerchief, "Here you go, wipe off your sweat."
Zhao Rong took the neat silk handkerchief that exuded the fragrance of a girl, wiped it on his face casually, handed it back, and looked around, "Let's walk faster and find a place to take shelter from the rain. This rain will probably last for a long time."
.”
"oh."
Su Xiaoxiao lowered his head, carefully folded the silk handkerchief stained with his sweat, put it away, and responded cheerfully.
soon.
A strong wind blew.
The muggy air was cooled down.
But in this wilderness, apart from the shade of trees, Zhao and Rong still found no place to take shelter from the rain.
Zhao Rong had no choice but to take out his umbrella.
Su Xiaoxiao on the side saw this and blinked.
Zhao Rong took a look and said, "Why are you looking at me stupidly? Hold an umbrella."
Su Xiaoxiao said eagerly: "Well, I left in a hurry this morning and forgot my umbrella in the guest room..."
Zhao Rong frowned, "Why didn't you forget yourself at the inn?"
Her fox eyes narrowed into crescent moons when she smiled, and she refused to answer.
"I've convinced you, come here."
Zhao Rong put the small bookcase that Su Xiaoxiao liked to carry on his back into the Xumiwu and made way for him under the umbrella.
The more the two of them are under the same umbrella.
"Boom!"
"Hua Hua"
A heavy downpour that had been brewing for a long time finally fell.
There was thunder and lightning and heavy rain.
Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao continued on their way.
Under the umbrella.
Men are slender and women are petite.
One left and one right.
The umbrella wasn't big, so the two of them squeezed in close to each other to make room for it.
at some point.
Zhao Rong held the umbrella in his right hand and tilted the umbrella to the right.
at this time.
It's not evening yet, but it's already dark.
For a moment, Zhao Rong's attention was entirely focused on the road ahead.
suddenly.
Zhao Rong felt a warm little hand covering his right hand holding the umbrella.
The palm is soft and smooth.
He is very familiar.
Because not long ago in Dawei, he had close contact with this hand.
However, I was just acting at the time.
On the road after that, the two of them maintained a certain tacit understanding and restored the original distance.