Ning Que raised his head, looked at him and said expressionlessly: "But there are some benefits to being tired. Guys who have studied the Mathematical Olympiad take the academy mathematics test, and they won't find it difficult when they look at questions of that level.
I feel so damn good, it’s much better than being tired in my life.”
"I came to such a ghost place out of nowhere. I lived a good life in the General's Mansion for several years. But because of you people, my good life was gone. Everyone I knew died. My father died and my mother died.
I'm only four years old, but I have to think about shit like life or death. Do you think I'm tired?"
When he was four years old, he held the hatchet tightly for the first time, killing someone for the first time, and then watched the slightly black blood flow along the hatchet head and turn into a sticky semi-solid between the fingers. That was when he
Knowing that chocolate hot pot is a very disgusting thing, he washed his hands countless times afterwards, but he still felt that he could not wash away the smell of blood and the faint smell of rust attached to the hatchet. This smell has been with him for twelve years.
year time.
He stretched his right hand into the rain and let it wash away, but he still felt that he could not wash away the sticky blood between his fingers. His face was pale and he said sadly: "I had never killed anyone before, but now I kill people."
It's easier than doing the questions back then. I've never been married, but I have to travel thousands of miles across the Minshan Mountains with a small oil bottle. When I look at someone, I feel like they want to kill me and then take the oil bottle away and make me my wife.
, do you think I’m tired?”
"It's all because of you that I'm so tired, so I can only feel relaxed if I kill all of you. Only when all the blood in your body has flowed out will I feel that the blood on my hands has been washed away, so you can
I think it's cold-blooded revenge, but sometimes I think to myself it's more like washing my hands."
Ning Que looked at the dying old man and said, "Use your blood to wash the blood on my hands."
After saying this, he squatted down and picked up the woodcutter beside the old man, looked at the old man and said: "As for the question of whether you can close your eyes, we can ask it again when you see the heads of the General's Mansion in the underworld, but
I believe that you, a boring guy like you who lives in poverty and prides himself on his loyalty and justice but cannot take the suffering as atonement, will definitely not be able to close his eyes."
He leaned close to the old man's ear and whispered something, then held the hatchet tightly and cut off the old man's neck with great skill. He stood up, picked up the hat from the rainwater in the yard, and put it back on his head.
, pushed open the courtyard door and walked out.
The rain is still falling in the courtyard, the sound of forging iron is still coming from the ironworks in front, no one is chopping the woodpile outside the woodshed, and the hatchet is stuck in the old man's neck.
Chen Zixian, the former deputy general of General Xuanwei, now a poor old blacksmith in the East City of Chang'an, stared at the rain falling from the sky. His cold eyes like fish maws were full of bleak despair. He could not close his eyes and allowed the rain to hit him.
Rinse the blood cleanly from your eyeballs.
Under the big black umbrella outside the slum, Sangsang looked silently in the direction of the alley. His posture did not change from the beginning to now. His little feet wearing old shoes always stood in the same place. The rain became heavier and heavier, making them wet.
Her hair and the clothes on her left shoulder were removed, but she had no intention of taking a few steps back to hide under the eaves.
There was no one at the entrance of the alley, but footsteps could be heard. She turned around and saw Ning Que, wearing a hat, walking out of an intersection on the west side. His cheeks in the shadow of the hat were extremely pale. She hurriedly held up an umbrella.
She stepped forward to cover him from the rain, and then quickly left the street while no one was paying attention.
The second name on the oil-paper list was finally crossed out today. The murdered Chen Zixian was one of the direct murderers of the Jiangjun Mansion massacre. However, Ning Que, who returned to the old pen studio in Lin 47 Lane, was emotionally disturbed.
It wasn't very good to go up there. After wiping the rain off my body and face, I lay down on the bed and started to sleep without even washing my feet.
These days he has been suffering in the old days, both physically and mentally. He has become extremely weak. Today, when he killed someone in the rain, the string in his spirit collapsed to the extreme, and then suddenly loosened, plus a slight
As soon as the cold spring rain hits me, I will be bedridden like a spring mudslide, unable to get up again.
His slightly cold body could not feel much warmth, even though Sangsang had already covered him with two quilts. He stared at the newly papered roof and murmured: "Do you know why I must enter the academy?"
Do you know why I tried my best to stay in the old world? Do you know why I tried my best to step into that world?"
Sang Sang was squatting at the door, busy making ginger soup, ignoring the nonsense he would talk about every one and a half years, and she had no time to answer his boring questions.
Ning Que turned his head with difficulty and looked at the thin body squatting next to the threshold. After a long silence, he smiled and said: "This question is really ridiculous. Of course you know... but other people don't know. Like it, you are actually the most vulnerable.
The weakest reason is that it takes so much effort to kill a censor and an old blacksmith. If I were still the same person I am now, and I have three swords that look very powerful...how could I be able to kill Xiahou and the prince?"
"Xiahou is too powerful." He turned his head, stared at the newly-pasted yellow paper on the roof again, and murmured: "How can I kill him at the peak of martial arts? If I don't embark on the path of cultivation, I will never even think of killing him in this life."
"Her Royal Highness the Princess said that if you insist on going to the old village every day, young master, something will happen to your body." Sang Sang took the boiling ginger soup, sat on the bedside, half-lifted him up, and said in a low voice: "Here we go.
I don’t know if you can embark on the path of spiritual practice at that time. You will die of illness before Xiahou dies."
Ning Que took the ginger soup, licked his lips weakly, drank it one mouthful at a time, and whispered in between drinks: "Hope may be false, but hope is better than no hope, so you have to work hard."
Sang Sang looked at him quietly and suddenly said: "Master, have you ever thought about what you can do if Master Haotian really prevents you from embarking on the path of cultivation?"
Ning Que handed the bowl to her, weakly wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiled slightly, and said very slowly and calmly: "If Mr. Haotian is so bad... Jiejie and garrulous, then I will definitely
It’s against the sky.”
Talking nonsense probably means talking nonsense? Sangsang thought that the young master had indeed started to talk nonsense intermittently again, so he put him down angrily, then went to wash the dishes and prepare dinner, and ignored him.
In the middle of the night, Ning Que's nonsense became more frequent, because he had a fever, and his pale cheeks were covered with unhealthy blushes. His eyes that were occasionally opened were distracted, and from time to time, he looked at the yellow paper on the roof and Sangsang Xiaoxiao.
The reply on his face seemed a little out of focus, and his dry and peeling lips spoke hoarse and slightly unintelligible words.
Bicycle back seat, registration fee, youth palace, hatchet, chocolate, blood. Oil bottle, blood; Minshan, blood; Weicheng, blood; grassland, blood; the general's mansion is all bloody.
"Why? Why?...Why?"
He grabbed Sangsang's cold little hand, but his eyes didn't know where to fall. He frowned tightly, pursed his lips, the dimple in his wine was like a sad question mark, and his face was full of grievances, and he kept talking about these three things.
This word looks very pitiful.
Sangsang replaced the wet towel on his forehead with another, held him in his arms, patted his back gently, and coaxed softly: "Yes, it's all their fault. It has nothing to do with you, young master. It has nothing to do with you at all."
No, they are all bad people."
In the early morning, the rain in Chang'an City stopped, and Ning Que's fever also subsided. He opened his eyes drowsily and felt a burning pain in his throat. He wanted to ask Sang Sang to bring him some water, but he couldn't.
Finding someone next to him, he turned around with difficulty and saw Sang Sang half-siting on the bedside, fully clothed, having fallen asleep at some point.
Looking at her apologetically, he pushed himself up and tried to get out of bed to pour water, but he still disturbed Sang Sang behind him. Sang Sang woke up and hurriedly pushed him back onto the bed, then jumped down.
Ning Que looked at her busy back and suddenly said, "Am I quite useless?"
Sang Sang put the tea cup to her lips, tested the temperature, and said, "Master, you are talking nonsense again."
Ning Que murmured: "I have been reading the Supreme Sensation Chapter for so many years but I still don't understand it. I can't even remember the words in the thin book "The First Exploration of the Sea of Qi and Snow Mountains". I still can't practice even though I try so hard.
Nowadays, it has degenerated to the point where even if you kill someone, you will complain a lot, and even become seriously ill...it is really useless."
In the early morning, behind the tall and majestic red wall, in the imperial study room surrounded by exotic flowers and green trees, Emperor Li Zhongyi of the Tang Dynasty stood on the threshold, staring at the raindrops dripping on the leaves not far away in a daze. The queen had just finished serving him.
After washing and having breakfast, for some reason, he suddenly wanted to come to the imperial study to take a look.
As the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty, the only man who made all nations surrender, from the perspective of ordinary people, he should not have any worries. However, he was silently looking at the garden at this time, and his clear and hale face was obviously a little restless.
"Master is traveling around the world again. I don't know when he will come back. Chao Xiaoshu finally slipped away. I don't know...if he will come back."
Li Zhongyi thought about his mentors and friends who had left Chang'an in recent days, and his heart became heavier. Looking at the wet trees after the morning flowers after the rain, he gradually felt lonely and felt lost. This is why he came here early in the morning.
Because he went to the imperial study room, he felt that he could only achieve true peace in this room where no one would disturb him.
His Majesty the Emperor loves calligraphy very much. Although he often summons ministers to come and appreciate books and paintings like offering treasures, no one except the empress and the fourth princess who dotes on him dares to disturb his peace without invitation. He even refuses to let the eunuchs and maids tidy up.
In this room, every book and sticker display was done by myself.
He sighed and turned around. He was about to write some bad words that had always been kept secret to express his feelings. Suddenly, his expression condensed slightly and he noticed that the tilt direction of the books on a certain floor of the bookshelf seemed to be different from before.