The base of his tongue was numb and he couldn't open his mouth to shout. Han Qian was irritated and resentful, but he could only lie there at the desk, listening to the window covered with a layer of oil paper, being blown by the breeze blowing from the mountain ridge.
"Ah!" it shook all night, making Han Qian want to tear down the whole yard.
The study room faces the east. The mountains are not very steep, but they are rolling. In the dark purple night, they are as thin as stacked paper cuts with different colors.
At dawn, the clouds above the mountain ridge line in the distance gradually became clearer, and the mountains and grass forests gradually became clearer. Only then did we realize that the cliffs were not far from here.
"...squeak..."
At this time, the door was pushed open, and a girl whose face was covered with a large dark red tire mark came in carrying a copper basin.
"Young master has really changed his mind. He actually sat in front of the desk all night. If he could do this in the city, he would not only make the master angry."
The ugly maid didn't notice Han Qian's abnormality. She placed the copper basin filled with face wash water on the wooden shelf. Seeing that the bedding in the back room was not spread out, she really thought that Han Qian had not rested while reading this.
"Shut your stupid mouth!"
Han Qian felt disgusted when he saw this ugly maid. He wanted to open his mouth to scold her, but his voice was too hoarse to make any sound.
He struggled to stand up, thinking about picking up the copper basin filled with washing water and smashing it into the face of the annoying ugly maid. He thought that this ugly maid had caused him to sit in front of the window all night, and she was so drunk.
I didn't think of coming in to serve.
Han Qian held the desk with his hands and tried to stand up, but he almost fell from the chair to the ground.
The ugly maid was startled and supported Han Qian. Seeing that his face was extremely pale, she reached out to touch his forehead:
"Oh, why are you so hot? They say you can't open the window when studying at night. The wind in the mountains is so cold that the young master is afraid that the cold will come out. The master strictly forbids the slaves to come in to serve the master at night. Master Fan is also careless and doesn't do anything.
What should I do if I close the window and my forehead is burned like this?"
The ugly maid helped Han Qian, who had no strength to lose his temper, to lie down on the couch in the back room.
Han Qian's mind was still muddled, his body was weak, and he didn't have the energy to curse. He could only watch Qingyun busy taking care of him and put him to sleep. In the meantime, he drank a bowl of bitter medicinal soup, and he didn't know the medicinal soup.
I wonder what is in it and whether it will eat me up. I am confused and thinking that everything in front of me may still be in a dream. There is no need to take everything seriously.
After that, I fell asleep again, and another lingering dream came over me.
It's just that at this time, Han Qian's dream is no longer that bizarre world, but bloody and sturdy soldiers, sharp swords, corpses lying strewn under the broken city wall, blood flowing like a river, and the setting sun shining on the reeds on the river beach.
On the grass...
In the Hong Library, which is far away from the center of imperial power, the collection of books is as deep as the vast ocean...
In the deep Han family mansion, a skinny figure sits in the cold shadows. His soft and sharp eyes give people a feeling of needles...
The water of the Qiupu River illuminated by candlelight seemed like shining black silk in the night. The fine water waves lapped at the side of the ship like jade. The gentle and jade-like body in the cruise ship was naked and sleeping.
He murmured in the middle, exuding a fatal temptation...
This is the world Han Qian is familiar with. This is the world he is familiar with as the son of a secretary and a young eunuch, the hopeless "Seventh Lang of the Han Family" who relies on family power in Xuanzhou and lawless Jinling City.
world!
When he opened his eyes and woke up, Han Qian saw that the sun had set in the west, and he felt a little better. There was a bowl of vegetable porridge on the bedside, and steam was rising. It must have been brought in by the ugly maid Qingyun just now.
Han Qian was hungry, but he didn't care. He picked up the vegetable porridge and poured it into his belly.
After a bowl of slightly hot vegetable porridge went into his stomach and he broke into a hot sweat, Han Qian finally regained his composure. He no longer felt weak or dazed after being poisoned, and everything in front of him naturally became more real.
However, the more this happened, the more strange Han Qian felt that the dream he had the night before was weirder.
The life memories of the person in the dream, Zhai Xinping, were so clear in his mind and had a sense of reality. They were so real that Han Qian wondered if he had been entered into the mind by a ghost from a thousand years later.
At this time, the ugly maid Qingyun heard the noise in the house, walked in, and saw the young master Han Qian sitting there in a daze, with a somewhat ferocious face. She did not dare to say anything more, so she packed the dishes and went out.
Han Qian picked up the bronze animal-button mirror on the bedside and looked at himself in the mirror. He was still the same pale-faced boy of eighteen or nineteen years old with his skinny cheeks looking a little narrow -
This made Han Qian feel a little better. He still looked familiar to him. He almost thought he had become the middle-aged man named Zhai Xinping who was born as an orphan in the dream.
Han Qian walked to the study outside.
Against the wall is a row of bookshelves reaching to the ceiling, filled with old and new books.
Mainly thread-bound books, there are also some paper or silk scrolls, and bamboo slips that look very old, all from his father Han Daoxun's book collection; there are two copper stoves with animal heads for burning incense on the bookshelf, and some with unique shapes.
White, black, brown, brown and other colored stones serve as book backs...
There is a couch against the west wall. Han Qian remembered the place where the little bitch Yao Xishui drank with him the night before. However, the small table on the couch was empty, but there was no wine pot and cup, and there was no trace of Yao Xishui.
Mark of.
Is it because too much time has passed since my father drove me to Qiuhushan Villa, and I am confused?
That little girl Yao Xishui has never been to the villa at all. Everything is imagined by herself. She just had a few strange dreams after catching the cold?
However, the window in front of the desk was still ajar and had not been cleaned for two or three days. A layer of floating dust accumulated on the window sill, leaving a few messy palm marks and footprints clearly visible.
Yao Xishui and another man just stepped out of the window sill, it was not their imagination!
No matter how confused Han Qian was, he could now confirm that Yao Xishui came over to poison him at night. It was not a dream, but it actually happened.
However, this made Han Qian even more confused.
No matter how bastard Han Qian is, he still has some self-awareness.
Even though he usually went to the Wanhonglou to have sex with prostitutes, and spoke scornfully and flirted with Yao Xishui, who was not a prostitute, but his mother squandered hundreds of cakes of gold in the Wanhonglou in just two or three months, but she didn't even touch Yao Xishui's breasts.
arrive.
Yao Xishui should be focusing on catching such a spendthrift financial owner like him. Why would he come to kill him?
Is there some other conspiracy hidden there?
It's just that his grandfather Han Wenhuan, who was the minister of the Ministry of War, has retired and returned to his hometown to live in Xuanzhou. His father Han Daoxun is a secretary and a young eunuch, with an official rank from the fourth rank. He is by no means outstanding among the civil and military generals of the Manchu Dynasty.
He is a prodigal. His father hates that iron cannot become steel, so he drives him to another courtyard to cultivate his moral character. He has no power and power in his hands. Even Fan Xicheng, an old dog who only obeys his father's orders, cannot be controlled. Who would go to all the trouble?
to poison him?
Han Qian cleared his throat and was about to call the ugly maid Qingyun to ask for details. Suddenly a memory fragment flashed in his mind. To be more precise, it was a piece of Southern Chu history that Zhai Xinping, the man in the dream, had read:
Emperor Wu of Southern Chu was politically ignorant in his later years and was suspicious of his ministers. The minister Han Daoxun admonished him for his diligence in government affairs, which angered Emperor Wu and was executed in front of the Wenying Palace. His son Han Qian fled to his ancestral home of Xuanzhou and wanted to raise an army. On the way, he was escorted by his family soldiers, and his car broke apart.
In the city...
Car crashed in the market?
Han Qian is no stranger to car cracks.
The previous dynasty was overthrown and the Chu State was newly established. It was only twelve years ago that the capital was established in Jinling. At this time, there was no peace in the Chu State. Emperor Tianyou governed the country harshly and imposed severe punishments. Every year, many prisoners were executed by being broken into chariots.
His father, Han Daoxun, was transferred to serve in the Central Government, and Han Qian was also taken to Jinling to reunite with his father. Although it had only been three or four months, he had the opportunity to witness the car-breaking execution scene with his own eyes.
In the past several dynasties, the chariot-breaking punishment was to divide the body by five horses. However, the chariot-breaking punishment in Chu State was simpler. It was to tie the ropes around the armpits and waist and crotch of the condemned prisoner, and use two horses to pull them to both sides until the prisoner was alive.
It was cut into two pieces, with feces, urine and gushing blood flowing all over the floor.
As a bystander, Han Qian found this scene very exciting.
Although he was scolded by his father and felt that such a scene was worth seeing again, Han Qian was shuddering at the thought that such a thing might happen to him, and his heart could not help but feel faint.
is twitching.
How could something like this happen to me?
Why did I have such a strange dream the night before? What a damn bad luck?
Han Qian wanted to get rid of these random thoughts, but the dream of the previous night appeared in his mind more and more clearly, as if the life memory of Zhai Xinping, the man in the dream, had been integrated into his blood and was difficult to erase.
The man in the dream, Zhai Xinping, was not familiar with this period of history in Nanchu. No matter how hard Han Qian tried to think about it, he could only get some fragmented memory fragments.
In the late period of the previous dynasty, the vassal towns were separated for hundreds of years. In 900 AD, the last emperor was killed by powerful ministers and completely destroyed. At the same time, Yang Mi, the envoy of Huainan Festival, proclaimed himself emperor in Jinling and named the country "Chu".
"God bless" is the year name.
Emperor Tianyou reigned for seventeen years. After his death, he was posthumously named Emperor Taisheng Taiwu, and later generations called Emperor Wu of Chu...
etc.
Isn't this history describing the process of Emperor Tianyou's founding of the Chu Kingdom?
At this time, it is only the twelfth year of Tianyou's reign, and there are still five years left before the seventeenth year of Tianyou's death.
The bizarre dream the night before was a ghostly obsession or a warning from God.
If these things are destined to happen, doesn't it mean that Emperor Tianyou will die in five years, and he will be "broken into pieces" before then?
Han Qian has lived heartlessly for so many years. He doesn't care about the raging flood behind him, but how can he calm down when he thinks that he may be "torn apart by a car" within five years?
But, how can he prove that the historical fragments remembered by the people in the dream are true?
