Volume Two, The Lake of Winter Chapter 277 This is not a story written in a book
Volume 2: Winter Lake Chapter 277: This Is Not Nine Astronomical Literature
Everyone believed that Ning Que was the son of General Xuanwei Lin Guangyuan. The orphan of the family massacre that year had been dormant in the world for many years. Once he finally entered the academy and gained power, he would launch a bloody revenge. Even His Majesty the Emperor, Xiahou, and even the queen of the academy.
Many senior brothers and sisters in the mountain believe this rumor.
So at this time, when the people in front of the imperial city heard Ning Que say these words softly, they were shocked beyond words and couldn't believe it at all. They thought to themselves, if you are not Lin Guangyuan's orphan, why do you do these things?
Xia Hou looked at Ning Que under the black umbrella, frowning slightly, not knowing what he was thinking.
Ning Que looked down at the plum blossom-like blood spots on the snow, as if he had seen the blood spots on the ground in the woodshed fifteen years ago, with an inexplicable smile on his face.
The wind and snow dispersed and gathered suddenly, gradually becoming more and more intense.
Ning Que raised his head, looked at everyone and asked three questions.
"Why do you all think I am the general's son?"
"Why do I have to be the general's son?"
"Why do you all want me to be the general's son?"
Everyone was still in extreme shock and could not answer his question at all.
Ning Que laughed at himself and said, "Unfortunately, I really am not."
"My father is not General Xuanwei, not a captain, not a subordinate officer, or even a clerk. He is just the concierge of the General's Mansion, and he is the concierge of the second gate. He can't even get many door packages."
"Of course my mother is not the general's wife, she is just a maid from a lowly background. Although she has fed the young master and can go in and out of the back house, she is still just a maid."
"Your Majesty overturned the general's case. I am very pleased. This is my true feeling, because the general and his wife are good people. They died unjustly. It's just that I regret that... I didn't hear the names of my parents."
He looked at the people in front of the imperial city and said: "This is a natural thing. My parents are originally humble people, and their names are also very humble."
"My father is an orphan, and was given the surname Lin by the general. His name is Lin Tao."
"My mother doesn't even have a name. She was sold from Hebei County to Chang'an City. She was called Li Sanniang from childhood to death because she vaguely remembered that she was the third eldest child in the family."
Blood continued to drip down Ning Que's palm onto the snow. The expression on his face was very calm, and his words were also very calm. It was not indifference, but true calm.
However, this calmness without excitement made everyone who saw Ning Que's face feel a chill rising from the soles of their feet, and then their whole bodies froze.
This kind of calm is terrifying.
Sangsang was not afraid, she just felt what he was feeling at this time, feeling sad about his sadness at this time, feeling the coldness of his body and mind at this time, and subconsciously reached out to hold his hand, wanting to give him some warmth.
"I know, that's what it says in the book."
Ning Que said calmly: "The prince who was deprived of his throne went away to a foreign country, and then returned to his country to take revenge. A young master escaped from the minister's family who was framed by the traitor. Many years later, he won the first prize in the exam, received His Majesty's favor, and then overturned the case again.
"
He looked at the people and asked seriously: "But why does the protagonist of every revenge story have to be a prince? Isn't the son of a concierge and a maidservant not qualified for revenge?"
Facing this calm but loud question, the people in front of the imperial city could only remain silent. Zeng Jing wanted to say something, but couldn't open her mouth. Li Qingshan sighed softly.
"That's what the books say, and that's what people think. I know I can't blame anyone, and any self-pity is idiotic, but I still hate this idea."
"Just like it was more than ten years ago."
Ning Que looked at Xia Hou and said: "That day, I took the young master to play on the street, just like I often do, because he regarded me as a very good friend... I said too much, anyway, it was what the housekeeper wanted.
He saved the general’s bloodline, and by the way, he also brought me into the Tongyi Doctor’s Mansion across the street.”
Hearing these words, Bachelor Zeng Jing's expression froze slightly, and he recalled the scene when his wife, who was still a concubine, gave birth to a daughter, and a river of blood flowed across the street.
Ning Que continued: "When you led your soldiers and horses into the general's mansion, I was hiding in the woodshed of Dr. Tongyi's mansion with the young master and the housekeeper."
Xia Hou said with a gloomy face: "My subordinates finally chased the woodshed and saw two dead bodies. I confirmed that Lin Guangyuan's young master was dead at that time, so I have always been confused about your identity. Now I am no longer confused, I am curious.
What did you do then?"
Ning Que looked at the wind and snow around him, as if he was recalling something, and said with a smile: "There is nothing new under the sky, it's just those old stories."
"If the general's son wants to live, the concierge's son must die. They are both little boys over four years old. Their flesh and blood were chopped to pieces. After changing their clothes, who can tell who is who?"
"The housekeeper thought that there was no need to be wary of a little boy who was four years younger, so he looked at me blankly, with apologetic, sympathetic, and sad emotions in his eyes. At that moment, I knew what he was going to do."
He spread his hands and said with a smile: "Isn't that what the books say?"
Then the smile on his face gradually faded, and he looked at Xia Hou, Zeng Jing, Li Qingshan, and everyone he could see, and asked expressionlessly: "But why?"
"Why should I do what is written in the book?"
"Why should the general's son live and the concierge's son die?"
"Why should I die?"
The wind and snow fell on the palace gate, and everyone was silent.
No one could answer this question, so it was quiet. Only Ning Que's voice was still floating in the heavy snow, and it was getting higher and colder.
…
…
"I'm just a porter's son."
"But I want to live."
"I want to live."
Ning Que's voice was calm and firm, describing his thoughts back then, just like telling the eternal truth that the sun will rise every day and the water will flow down.
He continued: "So when the housekeeper tried to trick me into taking off my clothes and getting the hatchet myself, I got the hatchet in my hand first and stabbed him in the stomach."
"Stabbed more than once."
Ning Que recalled what happened that year, frowned and said, "It seems like five swords."
"Because I wasn't strong enough and stabbed deep enough, I couldn't kill him immediately, so I stabbed him a few more times. But I don't know why, but the housekeeper didn't scream. He just looked at me in horror, like looking at a devil. Over the years, I
I kept wondering if he was too frightened to speak or if he didn't want to raise his voice and alert the people outside the woodshed."
After a moment of silence, he continued: "The young master...that is, the general's son, didn't know what happened at that time. He just looked at the housekeeper whom he always loved most lying in a pool of blood. He rushed towards me like crazy,
Want to hit me, want to bite me."
He shook his head and said: "I was also in a panic at the time. I was swinging around with the hatchet and somehow cut his neck. Then he covered his neck and fell backwards, and fell on the woodpile."
"The blood from the young master's neck spurted out from between his fingers. I wanted to cover it for him, but I couldn't cover it no matter how hard I tried. In the end, his blood condensed into pulp on my fingers."
Ning Que raised his head and looked at the people in the snow. He was silent for a long time, shook his head and said, "It was not a manslaughter."
"Maybe I just wanted to kill him."
He looked at Xia Hou and said with a smile: "Because only if he is dead, people like you and His Highness the Prince will no longer pay attention to me, the son of the concierge."
The world is shrouded in wind and snow, shrouded in deathly silence.
Snowflakes floated to Ning Que's face, touching that smile, which seemed to make him even colder from the cold.
It was a smile that seemed gentle, but was actually extremely cold.
When people looked at the smile on Ning Que's face, they were so shocked that they couldn't speak, and felt an unprecedented coldness.
They seemed to have seen the scene in the woodshed of Dr. Tongyi's mansion more than ten years ago.
A four-year-old boy, holding a rusty hatchet in both hands, stood in front of the two corpses. His little face was full of despair and fear, and his body was shaking constantly, and he might collapse to the ground at any time.
But the little boy never fell.
Now, the little boy back then is standing in the wind and snow, standing in front of the majestic palace, standing in front of people, telling that long-ago story.
Stories in books are often written like that.
The story he told is not in the book.
…
…
(On the first anniversary of the eve, I finally told one of the stories I wanted to tell the most in this story. I felt very happy. At eight o'clock, crooked that crooked... 55373, let's chat.)