In the center of the picture, there are high mountains, long rivers and vast rivers. The sun and moon are like dreams, calling me Xia'an.
The high mountains are covered with clouds, the rivers are dry and blocked, and the sun and the moon are covered with dust, looking for my homeland.
Those were the words of a song, sung softly by a woman in shabby clothes but exquisite facial features. Her green eyes were like the purest jasper, flawless in beauty, but also heartbreaking.
"Father, why is she crying?"
"Stop talking." The middle-aged man covered the boy's mouth tightly, his gloomy face hidden under the bamboo hat, with a hint of hatred.
She was just a poor woman singing and begging on the street. She shouldn't have bothered anyone, but the expressionless officers and soldiers didn't care how skinny and weak the woman was. They broke into the crowd and roughly pulled her away, leaving behind sighing onlookers.
and broken rice scattered on the floor.
The boy tugged on the middle-aged man's sleeve again. There was confusion in his clear eyes, and more importantly, sadness, as if the world had given him too many surprises and pains, leaving this child who had just left a remote country at a loss.
"Don't give up, watch him, I'll go rescue him." The middle-aged man pushed the boy to the relatively quiet child behind him, and the burly body disappeared around the corner in an instant.
"We can live, but we must not mention the word Xia'an, otherwise we will be imprisoned." Su Buqi, who showed an astonishing appearance even before he was a teenager, took the boy and carefully covered his hat, "
You are the future king of Cheyenne, and you have to see our suffering with your own eyes, so that you will understand the meaning of restoration. The Cheyenne people cannot remain expelled and humiliated wanderers forever - so my adoptive father said."
The boy was stunned for a moment, holding the ends of his light blond hair and shaking his head: "I don't understand."
"Forget it, I don't understand either."
What can two eleven- and two-year-old children understand? They are young and ignorant, but they want to see all the cruelty in the world.
When the crowd dispersed, the boy lowered his head to pick up the scattered broken rice one by one, carefully held it in his hand, and smelled it, and there was still a faint fragrance.
"Don't give up, what is this?"
"rice."
"What kind of rice? It smells so good!"
His young face showed a trace of maturity that was not befitting his age. Su Buqi took out his sweat towel and wrapped the handful of broken rice. His tone was so light that you couldn't hear the taste: "It's fragrant rice from my hometown. You haven't eaten it before. It's very fragrant."
."
"oh……"
Hometown, whose hometown is it? His? A distant place that has never appeared in my memory, an existence that has nothing to do with life. Now I have to stay away from my mother and give up the only important person for such an illusory thing.
Is the decision right or wrong?
However, it is undeniable that when I saw the singing woman being taken away, I felt a surge of anger that came from nowhere.
Such a pitiful person, and those untainted eyes, it makes my heartache to look at them...
"Master? Master, did you have a nightmare?"
A slightly curious voice sounded in her ears, recalling the dream in a shocking way. Ning Xizui opened her eyes suddenly, was dazed for a moment, sniffed and then chuckled: "Ji, have you cooked porridge again? You can smell it in your dream, okay.
It smells good!”
The slightly skinny girl wearing men's clothes blushed slightly, left the bed and retreated to the door, holding up the food box to cover her face: "Didn't the master say that he likes to eat? Besides, I can only cook porridge, and I'm not like Feng
Adults can do anything like that."
"My adoptive father has the responsibilities of a nurse and a housewife, so it's natural that he can cook and cook. However, the porridge he cooks is completely incomparable to the one cooked by the priest. It always makes me feel like I am being raised like an animal."
"Ah? Huh?! How can you say that to Mr. Feng?!" The girl was stunned, her round eyes showed a bit of heroism. If you didn't look at her delicate and delicate face, she looked more like a teenager. She noticed that Ning Xi
There was a bit of joking hidden in Zui Mingming's smile. The girl's face turned even redder, and she placed the food box on the table with a bang: "Master, you always make fun of people!"
Seeing the girl's half-shy and half-angry expression, Ning Xizui smiled even more happily, beckoned and turned over to sit up on the bed: "Come here, Ji, and eat with me."
She was probably used to being called around by the unattractive owner. The girl walked to the table naturally, took the seat farthest from Ning Xizui, and sat down. She opened the food box skillfully, took the bowl, and put it on the table. Eighteen years old
Matsuri has grown up, and every move she makes has the air of a mature woman, but her face is always green and childish, making people think of the word girl at a glance, just like when they first met three years ago.
Ning Xizui enjoyed her meal peacefully and had no intention of thinking about national affairs while eating. Even though she was being watched closely by Ji with adoring eyes, her leisurely and leisurely mood did not change at all.
Get up early, go to the main hall to show off, read some boring memorials, listen to a group of informal ministers noisy, then yawn, go back to the room to take a nice nap, and then wait for the festival to deliver food. This is the way to live.
Ning Xizui's boring life after becoming the king of a country.
No, it's actually not that boring. Looking at Ji's occasionally crazy expression, you can tell that Ning Xizui is still very good at making fun of herself.
"Ji, go and ask for leave from your adoptive father, saying that my eyes hurt and I can't go to court."
"Ji, let's grill the fish tonight and see how good you are at it."
"Jie, try my newly brewed wine."
"Satari, can I teach you how to write? Let me teach you how to write your name. Come on, write like this... Well, go back and write it a few more times."
Ever since Su Buqi took over Ning Xizui's role as a bodyguard, Ji's life has undergone earth-shaking changes. The first one was being scolded and scolded by Feng Wujiang, often because Ning Xizui cheated and refused to go to court for various reasons; secondly, he was scolded by Feng Wujiang.
It's the cooking skills. Ji, who only knows how to cook fragrant rice porridge, has become a master of grilled fish. The price is that he has to go outside the desert to buy fish and send messages to Ning Xizui along the way. The third is drunkenness. He is so drunk that he often
Accompanied by tiny melancholic sobs - being forced to drink all kinds of "new wine" with strange flavors, Matsuri, who used to be a teetotal drinker, would certainly feel aggrieved.
What made Ji most distressed was that when she proudly showed everyone her name, which she had practiced thousands of times and written horizontally and vertically, Wu Siying and Lu Feidu almost fainted from laughter.
"Is this your name, Matsuri? Do you understand how these three characters read 'silly girl'? You can't tell the difference between one character and three characters. You are really... a good tool for my master to amuse himself and relieve his boredom!"
Even Su Buqi, who had only come back after a long time, was a little bit dumbfounded. He kicked open the door with his foot, held the sacrifice in one hand, and stabbed Ning Xizui in the back with his long sword, frowning coldly: "I am the only disciple.
, you want to bully her to death?"
"Because Ji is so cute and honest, I want to bully him when I see him." Faced with Su Buqi's question, Ning Xizui answered matter-of-factly.
"Where's your sword, Matsuri? Don't think about it next time if this happens again, just stab it."
"Coco, coco, he is the master!" Ji shrank in the chair like a sick kitten, his tearful look made Su Buqi speechless, and could only roll his eyes at Ning Xizui.
Ning Xizui smiled proudly, sat on the edge of the chair and stroked Ji Po's somewhat messy hair, carefully and gently.
She had long, smooth light golden hair, just like him, and her clear and transparent eyes were more like the woman he had sent away with his own hands, making him obsessed and intoxicated.