Chapter 607: The candle in the snow: full of jingles, it seems I really cant keep you [5k, monthly vote please!]
After Yu Nianyuan returned to the house.
On the deck of the merchant ship bathed in the cold moonlight, only a tall figure wearing a floor-length Wu skirt and blond hair reaching her waist were left.
The snow-white sword lay horizontally in front of him. Under the moon, the sword seemed to be filled with white snow made of moonlight.
Shining brightly.
Xue Zhongzhu made a sword finger shape with one hand and slowly drew across the blade of the snow-white sword, unable to sweep away the snow-white moonlight.
The sword finger rested on an inconspicuous engraving on the long and narrow sword.
The pad of the sword finger slowly caressed the two small engraved seals.
Zhishuang.
Under the moon, the candle in the snow lowered its head to watch the sword, and the sword was also watching her.
The snow-white sword light illuminated the upper half of the Yunmeng lady's face. The sword light was dazzling, but her blue eyes did not blink at all.
The scene of that day flashed faintly before the eyes of the candle in the snow.
"...Hey, hurry up, little lady Zhishuang, forget it if you don't come, I'm too lazy to wait for you, mother-in-law...
"Hey, it seems that I guessed it right. It's really your nickname in the boudoir. After all, it was the tactful thought of the youngest daughter's family that carved it on the sword. Well, you didn't expect that someone in this world would hand over your sword..."
In the dead of night, even though a long time had passed, the reverberation of the disgusting and flirty tone of a young man wearing a bronze fox-faced Confucian shirt still lingered in my ears.
That day he was walking leisurely in the courtyard, quoting scriptures casually.
"There are bells in Fengshan, and when frost falls, the bells ring, so I know it, and the name is quite particular..."
"Tell me, who would have thought that the world-famous eldest daughter Junxue Zhongzhu would have an elegant and playful nickname, Zhishuang, tsk tsk..."
The white mixed-race face in the snow is as cold and unchanging as the frost and snow that have lasted for thousands of years.
After a while, her maiden name was "Zhishuang", she slowly lowered her eyes, murmured softly, and repeated:
"There are bells in Fengshan, and when frost falls, the bells ring, so the saying goes... So that's what it means, does it come from here... So that's it..."
The tall Hu Ji, who had always been domineering and unruly but seemed unaware of the origin of her maiden name, was briefly confused. She tilted her head slightly, with a thoughtful look in her blue eyes:
"Where is Fengshan... where is the bell that rings when the frost falls... Is this the place that Master has longed for..."
I don’t know how long I stood alone on the deck, facing the evening breeze. At a certain moment, Xue Zhongzhu put away Zhishuang’s sword, turned around, and prepared to return to the cabin.
Turning half way, the tall Orchid suddenly had a cold expression on her face and said coldly:
"You know so much and you are so smooth-talking. It seems I really can't keep you here."
…
After the new rain in the empty mountains.
At noon, there was still a little bit of light rain, but the sky was very bright.
In the deep forest, there is a bamboo house with the door open.
A small table is placed in front of the door.
The three of them sat cross-legged at the table and ate quietly.
During the dinner, there was only the slight sound of silver chopsticks hitting porcelain bowls against teeth, and occasionally a hoarse old cough.
The old man's cough was not severe, but intermittent, as if he was ill.
It came from a short, skinny old man among the three.
The short, thin old man had no outstanding features, he was just an ordinary little old man with a kind face.
Wearing a musician's robe that has been washed white, it is vaguely visible that the robe should have been cyan.
At the table, there were two other people eating with him.
They are a cold girl in palace clothes and an old woman with white hair and purple clothes.
The girl in cold palace attire has her hair pulled up high, in the standard style of a palace official. It is only fixed with a mandarin duck jade hairpin. Other than that, there is no trace of her daughter's decorations on her body.
As clean and deserted as a snow-white lotus.
The white-haired old woman has deep sunken eyes covered with whites, her chin is like a cone, and her head of silver hair is meticulously pulled up in the same style as a cold girl in palace clothes.
She was wearing a dark purple gilt palace dress, with complex antique simple cloud and crane patterns embroidered on the skirt. Every move she made was solemn and majestic.
The old man, the young man, and the two female historians all stood straight when eating, holding rice bowls in their hands and eating in small bites.
They lowered their eyebrows and lowered their eyes, chewing slowly without making any chewing sound between their lips and teeth.
Be strict and orderly.
Ignoring age and appearance, they are almost carved from the same mold.
"Cough cough cough..."
During the dinner, the old musician covered his mouth from time to time and coughed, which became the loudest noise during the dinner, echoing inside and outside the bamboo house.
Halfway through the meal, the old musician glanced at them and couldn't help but put down his chopsticks:
"Both of you, the older one and the younger one...don't you talk?"
The tone was a little helpless.
Rong Zhen and Sister Song didn't even raise their eyelids, as if they didn't hear anything.
Maybe it was because of the deep hollows in her eyes that they were covered with whites, so she didn't know if she looked at the old musician, silently took a mouthful of food and stuffed it into her toothless mouth.
Rong Zhen seemed to be in a fugue the whole time. When she was carrying a bowl to eat, her little face was in a trance, staring down at the nearest plate in front of her... The old musician noticed that she seemed to be only staring at the plate of stir-fried lettuce in front of her, and all other dishes were gone.
Haven't moved.
"Are all the female officers in your Si Tianjian like this? Haha, that's really interesting."
The old musician touched his palms and smiled cheerfully.
After the words fell, there was silence at the table.
Nanny Song slowly took out a neat pile of handkerchiefs from her arms, wiped the corners of her mouth, and continued eating.
Rong Zhen, who was next to him, seemed to be reminded by her actions and came to his senses. He also took out a neat pile of handkerchiefs from his sleeve, wiped the corners of his lips, put the handkerchief away, and continued eating with a dazed expression on his face.
Old musician:......
No one paid attention.
A little bit embarrassing.
The old musician picked up the bowl again and turned to look outside the door.
A thin rain curtain hangs from the eaves of the bamboo house.
The spring rain that has lasted for several days has stopped, and there is still a little light rain intermittently today.
Through the renewed green bamboo forest outside the courtyard, the outline of a headless Buddha carved in open-air stone can be faintly seen.
The old musician's face became lonely and he listened to the soft sound of rain for a while.
This time, he said without looking back:
"According to the agreement, the matter of Xingzi Lake Giant Buddha is over, and it's time to let the old man go."
"no."
"No."
Nanny Song and Rong Zhen, who were silent, almost answered in unison.
The old musician turned back and said curiously:
"So you two are not deaf or mute."
Aunt Song snorted coldly:
"Old man Yu, if you are bored, I won't let you speak if I talk to you."
Rong Zhen glanced at Deputy Superintendent Song, said nothing, continued to stay quiet, and chewed slowly.
The old musician touched his thin head with sparse white hair:
"This meal is so deserted. It's better for me to live alone. When you two came here, you really only watched and didn't chat, right? There was no affectionate chat about everyday things."
Nanny Song frowned and looked at him with white eyes.
No words were spoken, but everything was left unsaid.
The old musician smiled:
"Well, even if this is really the case, you two can't just pretend. Don't be too hard, try something soft. I've always been soft and not hard, so why are you so... so dry?
?
"Hey, you, Si Tianjian, are still the same as before. You are really impersonal. I tell you, it's a good thing you met me. If it were anyone else, something would happen sooner or later..."
The old musician thought for a while and took a bite of rice from time to time.
Finally someone spoke, and the meal became more delicious.
Grandma Song’s face was cold and her tone was impatient:
"Old man Yu, this is your duty to repay the kindness of the saint. Why are we forcing you? Are you still like a three-year-old child who wants us to coax you?"
"Hey, Miss Song, don't say anything yet."
The old musician leaned back:
"People really become more like children as they get older. I used to not like to talk when I was young. I could hardly speak more than a few times a month. I would not talk to anyone who is not a vocal confidant...
"Now that I'm older, I realize that speaking is really interesting. If the sound of music is elegant, people's speech is vulgar. The vulgar is elegant, the simple is the true, and the careful taste makes a difference."
The old musician looked happy and shared with the two female historians in front of him: an old man and a young man:
"Now I just feel that I have been quiet for most of my life and every time I say a word, I have earned it. As for Miss Song, you have been so cold and stern all your life. You should smile at last and don't take it to the coffin..."
"
The nasolabial folds on Granny Song's skinny face were twitching and twitching, as if her appearance was about to change at any moment.
At this time, Rong Zhen spoke softly to ease the atmosphere:
"Mr. Yu, the seniors and juniors of the Song Dynasty have no intention of spying on you. Everyone in Luoyang Sitian Prison respects you very much, and the saints also remember your hard work."
Having said this, she paused, looked at the old musician with a gentle face, and said in a clear voice:
"This junior has heard the sage say more than once in front of the emperor that you are a national scholar."
The old musician thought for a while and asked carefully:
"Then I would like to ask you, little Nv Shi, how to arrange the rules and regulations for a saint to treat a noble? Is there a set of procedures or something like that?"
After Rong Zhen heard this, he stopped talking.
Aunt Song interrupted, her voice a little shrill:
"Hey, Old Man Yu, look at me, Master. Isn't he older than you? Isn't he still diligent and loyal to the country, and shines brightly as long as he is here?"
The old woman with white eyes raised her sharp chin and looked down at the old musician opposite:
"Look at me again. I have served His Majesty for decades. I am a role model for the younger generations in prison... How can I be so indecisive and bargaining like you?"
The old musician stopped smiling and became respectful.
He supported his knees with both hands, leaned forward slightly, and asked tentatively:
"It makes sense, but Miss Song is not considered a national scholar. Rong Xiaonu Shi, have you ever heard a saint say this before the emperor? In addition to Miao praising the master and the old scholar, is it possible that he also praised Miss Song so much?"
Rong Zhen:……
Grandma Song's face suddenly changed, and she could not suppress her anger:
"The old guy named Yu, half buried in the loess, is still talking nonsense?"
The white eyes of the shrill old woman just turned purple, and the old musician waved his hand and said righteously:
"Okay, okay, no matter whether you are a national scholar or not, you are doing things for the saint anyway, and you are repaying the saint's kindness. There is no distinction between high and low, don't you think so, Miss Rong? So, Miss Song, don't worry.
."
Seeing a dining table in front of him creaking automatically, as if it would fall apart after the next breath, he helplessly spread his hands:
"Okay, Miss Song, I didn't say I was leaving now. Just work overtime and come back late. Let's shine together and repay the saint's kindness."
"snort."
The old woman with white eyes snorted coldly, continued to pick up the porcelain bowl, and ate with a straight face.
Rong Zhen looked sideways slightly.
I am a little curious, have Mr. Song and Mr. Yu been so indifferent since they met? I used to think that these rumored seniors in the Luoyang court were very serious and serious.
Aunt Song has a straight face and is cold and ruthless. Rong Zhen frowns in thought and is also a man of few words.
There was silence again around the dinner table.
At this time, the sound of rain outside the door also stopped, and the bamboo house became empty.
The lively atmosphere failed.
The old musician sighed.
People all over the world say that a hundred years is like twirling one's fingers, and a life of seventy is rare.
But he……
The seventy-year-old musician shook his head.
Seventy, working overtime, afraid of cold violence in the workplace...
Just when the three of them were enjoying their meal quietly, and it was almost coming to an end, there was a creak, and the bamboo door of the small courtyard where the bamboo house was located was pushed open.
The three of them turned to look.
In front of the bamboo gate of the small courtyard, two slender female officials holding umbrellas stood.
"What's wrong?"
Rong Zhen picked up the dishes and spoke in a calm tone.
A female official holding an umbrella made a gesture and seemed to point in the direction of Xunyang City to the east.
The next moment.
The old musician, who was chewing his food carefully, found that the seat opposite him was empty.
His face was stunned for a moment.
He turned around and saw that the cold and cold girl in palace clothes was no longer in the courtyard. She had already hurried away with the two female officials holding umbrellas. Her rather short figure was leading the way. The two female officials holding umbrellas for the female historian behind her had umbrellas in their hands.
I was almost chased by the wind and couldn't keep up with anyone.
"Just bring him here next time...but why I can't pick him up? It's really troublesome..."
The old musician also faintly heard the intermittent voice of the young lady Rong coming from outside the hospital, seeming to be giving orders to the female officials holding umbrellas who came to report.
The bowl and chopsticks in his hands paused in mid-air.
"What's going on?"
Mother Song didn't even raise her head, she said coldly:
"There are people coming from Xunyang City."
"who?"
"Who else could it be? Ouyang Lianghan, the new bachelor of the Xiuwen Academy appointed by the saint, and currently acting as the governor of Jiangzhou."
The old musician touched his beard and asked curiously:
"How did Miss Song know this? I didn't even say a word when I saw the messenger. Do you, the female officers of the Tianjian, have a set of sign language now?"
The old woman's face was expressionless with white eyes.
I don't want to answer this question at all.
The old musician smiled:
"Young lady Rong Shi is really busy, and so are these juniors. Looking at it this way, the old man is quite relaxed. As for Miss Song, statues are being made in full swing outside. Aren't you busy at all?"
Aunt Song replied calmly: "If you don't have anything to say, you don't have to say it."
Old musician:......
Not long after, the two of them finished their lunch carefully.
Aunt Song didn't leave. She paced and wandered around in the bamboo house, stopping from time to time to look at some of the old musician's daily utensils, not knowing what they meant.
The old musician was not annoyed at all and cleared away the dishes at the table.
After the new rain, the bamboo forest in the empty mountain in the wild began to have a spring breeze, blowing into the bamboo gate.
Fresh and translucent.
The old musician rolled up his sleeves and half way through, his eyes covered with crow's feet narrowed in comfort. Then, he suddenly covered his mouth with a fist and arched his body.
"Cough cough cough cough..."
Nanny Song was walking to a desk. She seemed to see a manuscript on the desk from the corner of her eye. She picked it up and just looked at it when she suddenly heard a violent cough behind her.
She looked back and frowned:
"Why haven't you recovered from your tuberculosis? When you came here last time, didn't you tell me that you have a northern disease and the further south you go, the better?"
The old musician coughed for a while, then recovered, lowered his head and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
He turned around and said with a cheerful smile:
"Didn't this stop and stop going south?"
The old musician's body was stooped, and his figure swayed slightly in the spring breeze at the door. He seemed a little weak, but his voice was not weak at all, and he smiled heartily:
"There is no rush to return home. It is important to repay the kindness to the saint first. Miss Song, don't worry too much."
Aunt Song put down the manuscript in her hand, with a straight face and a stiff tone:
"I'm not worried."
The old musician smiled.
Grandma Song stood there silently for a while.
"When the big Buddha outside is built, and some bugs have been cleaned up, I will let you go. When the time comes, I will personally send you off."
"OK."
The old musician smiles.
After a while, Nanny Song heard him add another sentence:
"But looking at the situation, the peach blossoms that bloom late in April in the countryside of my hometown probably won't last long."
Grandma Song frowned slightly, as if she didn't like to engage in such gossip.
"Dong dong——!"
She tapped her fingers on the copied manuscript of "The Story of Peach Blossom Spring" on the table:
"Old man Yu, is there really nothing wrong with this authentic copy of "The Story of Peach Blossom Spring" hidden by the Jingzhao Yuan clan? It's not a sword technique, nor... a tripod sword?"
The old musician immediately shook his head:
"No, it's just an ordinary authentic calligraphy by a famous person... Hehe, it's impossible that it's not even authentic, and it might be a forgery by later generations. After all, there are too many fake calligraphy and paintings by famous people in the world, haha."
He laughed alone for a while and continued to laugh and said:
"Anyway, it's definitely not a sword art. Don't worry about that. As for whether it's a sword or not, Miss Song has seen the real one, so can't she tell that it's a fake?"
Nanny Song nodded lightly, passed by the old musician, and walked towards the door, ready to leave.
The old musician suddenly stopped her:
"By the way, Miss Song, do you know where there are peach blossoms around here?"
"You can't wait any longer?"
Aunt Song frowned and said in an impatient tone:
"What's so good about those broken peach blossoms? I can't believe that the peach grove in your hometown has disappeared long ago, along with the village, and you still miss it every day."
The old musician was quiet for a moment, then smiled in a sheepish tone:
"I'm sorry, I've been dreaming about it lately. I feel dizzy during the day, and my dreams are a little confused with reality. I really miss you, and I'm afraid I won't be able to wait for the peach blossoms in April next year."
"Don't say such depressing words. Stay well and have a good life. If you tell us what you need, can we still let you die? Looking at the progress of the statue now, the day before you leave... is coming soon."
After saying this, she paused for a moment, and before leaving, Granny Song reluctantly added:
"Where is the peach blossom forest? I will help you ask later, but if it is too far away from Xunyang City, you are not allowed to go."
The old woman with white eyes waved her hand without looking back, and her rickety figure disappeared from the door.
The old musician watched her go away quietly.
Silence returns to the bamboo house.
He continued to pack his food, stopped in the courtyard, and looked around.
It was full of lush bamboo forests and spring breeze, but something seemed to be missing.
The old musician returned to the room, came to the table, picked up the manuscript of "The Peach Blossom Spring" that had been put back by Sister Song, and looked down at it carefully.
"...Suddenly I came across a peach blossom forest, hundreds of steps along the bank. There were no trees in the middle, the grass was delicious, and the fallen flowers were colorful...
"It was extremely narrow at first, and only then could people reach people. After walking for dozens of steps, it suddenly became clear... The land was flat and vast, with well-shaped houses, fertile fields, beautiful ponds, and mulberry and bamboo trees..."
He paused for a moment and chanted softly:
"There are people who come and go, and the men and women are dressed like outsiders. Their yellow hair hangs down, and they are happy... When I ask what time it is now, I don't know that there is a Han Dynasty, regardless of the Wei and Jin Dynasties..."
After reading one article, the old musician suddenly closed his book and looked enlightened:
"Hey, there are peach blossoms here too."
I saw a look of realization on his face:
"What a place to escape from the world, but you still find a place to hide your kindness, Tao Yuanming!"