In early spring, in February, a pattering spring rain dyed the willow branches outside the courtyard wall green. Dots of green appeared on the steps outside the window under the eaves.
Zhao Xiyan sat quietly in front of her desk, the white rice paper spread in front of her eyes unstained by dust.
The sunlight shines through the window lattice and shines on her snow-white and smooth beautiful face. Her eyebrows are curved, her eyelashes are thick and long, her eyes are like dots of paint, and her lips are like red vermilion. Her green silk hair is like a waterfall, hanging down on her shoulders.
This scene was as beautiful as a masterpiece written by a famous artist. Even the spring breeze outside the window could not bear to disturb the peace and beauty of this room. It blew past gently, quietly picking up a strand of hair behind her ear, and then falling softly.
Fifteen years old is the best years of a girl's life.
In this year, she was still the legitimate daughter of the Zhao family, a prominent family in Beihai. She was proficient in piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, and was famous throughout Qingzhou.
This year, the rebel army has not yet invaded, all the relatives are here, and the homeland is safe.
Spring is coming, and she is still young.
There is still time for everything.
A glimmer of water flashed in Zhao Xiyan's eyes, and then disappeared. She picked up the pen and put down the ink calmly, with the tip of her pen like a swimming dragon. Two lines of vigorous and powerful words appeared on the snow-white rice paper.
To relieve the hatred in your heart, draw your sword and kill your enemy.
The power penetrates the back of the paper and shows its sharp edge.
An invisible chilling air rushed towards him.
The pretty maid Yu Han, who was waiting for the pen and ink at the side, secretly shuddered in her heart and glanced at her master quietly.
Yuhan is a slave born in the Zhao family. She has been very smart since she was a child and has been serving her master since she was eight years old. Zhao Xiyan has a photographic memory and is extremely intelligent. She is well-read in poetry and books, and is good at playing, playing, chess, calligraphy and painting.
The hosta has been by his master's side all day long, and he has been influenced by his ears and eyes, so he knows how to appreciate it. At a glance, he can tell that his master is in a state of confusion today, and there is actually a murderous spirit in his writing.
At midnight last night, the sleeping lady suddenly woke up. She was also awakened from sleeping on the footrest, rubbing her sleepy eyes: "Miss, are you having a nightmare?"
The young lady looked at her with obscure and complicated eyes.
She held back a yawn, poured a cup of warm tea, and waited for the young lady to drink half of it.
The tea was steaming hot, and a blush appeared on the young lady's jade-like face. Then, the young lady lay silently on the bed.
She knew that the young lady had not fallen asleep, so she insisted on talking to the young lady... mainly because she said that the young lady listened quietly. Fatigue came over her, and she fell asleep in a daze.
When she woke up after dawn, the young lady had already stood up and sat in the study for half a day. Until now, she had not spoken a word. This strange silence really made her feel flustered.
"Well, why did Miss suddenly write this poem?" Yuhan mustered up the courage to break the silence.
Zhao Xiyan raised her eyes and raised the corners of her lips slightly: "Isn't it well written?"
The sound is sweet, like pearls falling on a jade plate.
Looking at the young lady's beautiful smile and listening to the familiar voice, Yuhan's inexplicably panicked heart suddenly calmed down. She pursed her lips and smiled and said, "Everything the young lady writes is beautiful. Just this poem, it looks a bit scary."
Zhao Xiyan twitched her lips and suddenly asked, "What day is today?"
The hosta replied smoothly: "February 15th. There are still more than three months until the lady's hairpin ceremony."
When the words "hairpin ceremony" came into her ears, Zhao Xiyan's fingers trembled slightly, and intense pain flashed in her eyes.
…
In her previous life, when she was fifteen years old, she was happily looking forward to the arrival of the wedding ceremony. However, she did not expect that the day before the wedding ceremony, bandits and rebels poured into Beihai County, burning, killing, and looting, and countless people were massacred.
The Zhao family is a prominent family in Beihai, with more than 3,000 members living together. The rebels broke into Zhaojiafang with sharp knives. The Zhao family members hurriedly resisted to the death, and then encountered a brutal and bloody massacre, ranging from an old man in his seventies to a man in his thirties.
No one as young as four years old was spared.
The most tragic thing is that the female family members of the Zhao family endured all kinds of unbearable humiliation before their death.
The sound of wailing and crying is endless.
The river of blood is like a hell on earth.
Her father, Zhao Yuanming, with red eyes, hurriedly pushed her into the dark room of the study and shouted hoarsely: "Yueya'er, hide in there and don't make any sound."
The night she was born, dark clouds covered the night sky, leaving only a crescent moon. Her father gave her this nickname.
The door to the darkroom was closed.
She curled up, feeling helpless and desperate, crying silently.
Suddenly, the door of the secret room was slammed open. Several military men with flashing red eyes broke in. The moment they saw her, the men were so excited that they started fighting among themselves.
She wanted to die, so she took out a sharp dagger and stabbed it in the chest.
The blood is gushing out, it hurts so much!
The moment before her consciousness fell into chaos, she thought that she would never learn any music, chess, calligraphy or painting in the next life. All her talents would be useless under the sword. In her next life, she would practice martial arts, and at least she would be able to kill a few before she died.
Unexpectedly, she did not die.
The position of her heart was different from that of ordinary people, and the dagger did not damage her internal organs. She actually survived...
In the next few years, she was supported by a heart of hatred. Even if life was worse than death, she would continue to live.
In troubled times, people are like grass and grass. It is really difficult to live to seek revenge. Fortunately, she still has the beauty of the country. No man can resist her smile.
The Jin Dynasty experienced eight years of war, and the new emperor established the Yan Dynasty. She entered the palace and became the concubine Chen, and gained the emperor's favor. She used her beauty as a sharp weapon and used the emperor's hand to eradicate her former enemies one by one.
I don't know how many people called her a "witch who brought disaster to the country", but she didn't take it to heart.
All her tears have been shed, and her heart died long ago when she was fifteen. She lives only for revenge.
The great revenge was avenged, and she committed suicide by taking poison the day before her twenty-fifth birthday, closing her eyes without regret.
But he didn't expect that when he opened his eyes, he would be young again.
Today is the fifth day of February, and her birthday is May 28th.
There are still a hundred days before the rebel army massacres the city.
…
Zhao Xiyan picked up the pen again and wrote three words after enemy.
One hundred days.
Hosta was confused and didn't dare to ask any more questions.
Familiar footsteps came from far away, and the door was knocked gently.
Hosta was about to open the door, but her master moved a step faster.
Zhao Xiyan quickly opened the door.
The man standing under the bright sunlight was nearly forty years old, slender, handsome in appearance, and elegant in manner. There was a smile in his black eyes, and he gently called her by her nickname: "Crescent Moon."
This man is none other than Zhao Xiyan's biological father, Zhao Yuanming.
Zhao Yuanming is a direct descendant of the Zhao family. He was only eight times taller when he was young. He won the first place in the college examination at the age of 16. He participated in Qiuwei at the age of 17 and won the title of Qingzhou Jieyuan. The following year, he went to the capital to take the examination and became the first in high school.
He was named number one scholar by the emperor in the Jinluan Hall.
The eighteen-year-old number one scholar was so proud. Later he entered the Hanlin Academy and became a sixth-grade Hanlin bachelor, and his future was even brighter. Unfortunately, within two years of being an official, Zhao Yuanming offended the prince of the dynasty and was made things difficult for him at every turn, so he had to resign.
The official returned to Beihai County.
Zhao Yuanming devoted himself to his studies and personally taught his children, nephews and descendants in the Zhao clan school, and became the most famous scholar in Qingzhou. Outstanding young people from all counties in Qingzhou became the disciple of Zhao Yuanming one after another.
Zhao Yuanming was a gentleman, with a humble temperament and rigorous scholarship. He taught his disciples carefully and never kept secrets, and was respected by everyone.
Zhao Xiyan was born with dystocia, and her biological mother died after trying her best to give birth to her. In the past ten years, matchmakers have almost crossed the threshold of the Zhao family, but Zhao Yuanming declined them all. The reason is that "my daughter is young, and if I continue to marry, she will
I have a stepmother and half-siblings, so I am afraid that the house will be uneasy, and I don’t want my daughter to be wronged.”
Zhao Yuanming has been a widower for more than ten years. He has been both father and mother, and he has raised her single-handedly. She has been taught by her father patiently, learning to speak, learning to walk, reading, playing, chess, calligraphy and painting.
The relationship between father and daughter is extremely deep.
When Zhao Yuanming was in the most critical moment, he hid her in the darkroom of his study and lured away the rebels. As a result, he died tragically. She couldn't even collect her father's body...
After waking up from the nightmare last night, the tears that I had been holding back burst into my eyes.
Zhao Xiyan threw herself into her father's warm arms, tears falling down her cheeks.
Zhao Yuanming was startled. He patted his daughter on the back and asked, "What's wrong with you? Who bullied you?"
Zhao Xiyan choked with sobs and couldn't speak, and her shoulders kept shaking.
Zhao Yuanming had no choice but to stop questioning and glance at the hosta. The hosta made a sad face and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know what was going on. He pointed at the desk again.
Zhao Yuanming glanced briefly and his brows jumped.
He is a great calligrapher in the world, and his daughter is a very good calligrapher. Although she is young, her calligraphy skills are not inferior to his own father.
This line of poetry is like a gold hook and a silver stroke, and a strong sense of resentment and killing overflows on the paper.
What happened?
Why did my daughter suddenly write such a poem for no apparent reason?
Zhao Yuanming was full of doubts, but had no time to ask. He coaxed his daughter softly: "Don't cry yet. Wipe your tears. Tell dad if you have anything."
Zhao Xiyan clutched her father's lapel tightly, tears streaming down her face, and she cried heartily.
After a long time, Zhao Xiyan's intense emotions slowly calmed down. She took two steps back and wiped her tears with a handkerchief.
Zhao Yuanming ignored the wetness on his chest and looked at his daughter with concern: "Yueya'er, what happened?"
Resurrected from the dead and returned to his youth again. No one would believe such a shocking thing if he told it. Zi Bu Yu has strange powers, and may even be regarded as a monster...
Zhao Xiyan did not hesitate, she made the hosta move away, and then closed the study door: "Dad, I have something very important to tell you."
Zhao Xiyan's expression was cold and solemn, and her tone was solemn.
Zhao Yuanming's brows jumped again.
He knows his daughter very well. She has been precocious since she was a child, has a meticulous mind, and is very sensible. She will never do anything that she is not sure of, and she never says anything that is not reasonable.
She was so solemn, something big must have happened.
"Okay, you tell me, I'll listen." Zhao Yuanming looked at his daughter: "Yueyaer, don't be frightened. If the sky falls, your father will bear it."
