Jeune Premier ministre, un ermite

Chapitre 1

[Volume 1, Deer City Chapter: Chapter 1 Falling Off the Cliff]

In the fourth year of the Tai Ning era of the Dayu reign, Prince Zhao Xi of Chu rebelled, colluding with the Western Turks to launch a rebellion in the Yellow River basin. The Central Plains suffered greatly from the war, fields lay barren, bandits roamed the land, and the people lived in misery. Emperor Cheng, already advanced in years, ordered his eldest son, Prince Li Beiji of Yue, to lead the suppression of the rebellion. A bloody battle was fought at Luling Mountain, resulting in the defeat of the rebel army. The Left Wise Prince, renowned for his wisdom, bravery, and unparalleled charisma, and his allied foreign forces were all slaughtered in the Luling Mountain pass; not a single survivor remained. This renowned general lay buried there forever.

"Um……"

"Ouch!" Wei Zijun let out a soft groan as the excruciating pain shooting through her chest.

Why does it hurt so much? It feels like being pierced by a sharp sword. The intense pain forced her to open her eyes.

The scenery before her gradually became clearer, revealing a vast expanse of azure sky, so beautiful it made her heart tremble. A gentle breeze blew by, and she forgot to explore further, closing her eyes in blissful reverie.

But the smell that entered my nose was not pleasant. It was a salty, fishy, and damp smell.

Suddenly, her dulled senses snapped open, and she jerked her eyes open, turning her head to see a crimson exclamation that made her scream.

Wei Zijun sat up abruptly.

Where did all these corpses come from? They... were actually wearing armor, and seemed to have no signs of life. Some of the corpses were piled up, and some were still bleeding. She was sitting on several of the corpses.

There was no scream as expected. She tried to calm herself and tremble as she tried to get up. But she found an arrow stuck in her right shoulder blade. The arrow had entered from behind, piercing through her entire body. The fletching had broken off from her fallen body, and the arrowhead had emerged from her chest.

What she found even more unacceptable was that a sword was still stuck in her abdomen, the blade sliding past the breastplate and piercing her left abdomen.

Wait, a breast protector!

She was wearing armor just like the corpses!

Oh my god, no, no, something must be wrong. What is it? What is wrong?

Just now, it was clearly nighttime, yes, a night with heavy rain.

She was celebrating her birthday with a group of friends. As she blew out the candles, she found herself thinking of her parents again, and in the flickering candlelight, she seemed to see their smiling faces.

Suddenly, loneliness struck, the noise around me faded away, and a feeling of unease settled in my chest.

Without informing her companions, she stepped out of the overly luxurious door filled with dazzling neon lights, simply wanting some fresh air.

The rain has stopped, and the fresh air is invigorating. Looking up, the sky is clear of dark clouds, the bright moon shines with its gentle light, and a few wisps of clouds drape the sparse stars.

Such a beautiful night made her want to drive at high speed and experience the thrill of flying.

So he walked to the parking space in the square, flicked the key in his right hand, and the car door opened with a "whoosh".

Like those men, she was madly in love with manual transmission cars because she felt they were more powerful than automatic ones. The thrill of shifting gears was endless.

She stroked the imposing Mercedes-Benz emblem on the hood and leaned down to kiss it. Her prized vehicle, her one and only lover.

We shifted gears all the way up to fifth gear, and the speedometer needle pointed to 180.

Driving on an empty highway, with the night wind blowing, it felt like flying through a terrifying universe. There was no ground beneath my feet, nothing on either side, yet I still faced that fear head-on, as if trying to merge myself into this universe.

She liked the night because it made her loneliness even more apparent.

The headlights shone on a puddle ahead. Instead of easing off the accelerator and downshifting, she accelerated and sped through it. The car body splashed the water high to both sides, like a waterfall protecting the car. Under the moonlight, the waterfall reflected a dazzling light.

This puddle is really long, so long that even the waterfall seems endless... That's right, it's the waterfall, that's where the problem lies. The waterfall is not only endless, but it's also getting higher and brighter, with no end in sight...

Gradually, her consciousness faded...

"General, there's still one alive here." A voice came from afar.

"Ah—" followed by a scream of agony.

The scream jolted Wei Zijun from her reverie, and the will to survive made her struggle to her feet. Intelligent and composed as she was, she clearly understood what had happened to her. Though shocked, resentful, and disbelieving, now was not the time to investigate.

Whether the other party was friend or foe, that scream was the best proof. She had to hide first.

"General, there are so many corpses, some of them are even disfigured. How are we supposed to find them?" The voice drew closer.

"Enough talk! We must find it, or how will we explain it to the general? No one is to divulge this. Anyone who misses a single word... Hmph!"

"yes!"

The footsteps grew closer, but his legs could barely move.

He looked around, hoping to find a place to hide.

Ahead lay what appeared to be a precipice, its edges overgrown with tangled trees. It seemed one could find shelter beneath the trees, but the depth of the precipice remained unpredictable.

The sounds came from the lower left and were coming up the slope.

I've heard that a long sword shouldn't be pulled out of a body, or the person will die. But this sword is really an eyesore.

Just because it was an eyesore, the man drew his sword recklessly, without regard for his own life—so impulsive, so resolute. He smiled as he watched the blood gushing out. Still the same old him.

With unwavering willpower supporting his battered body, he leaned on his sword in his right hand and slowly made his way to the edge of the cliff. By the time he reached the edge, he was completely exhausted, as if all the blood in his body had been drained.

Leaning against a tree, I was panting heavily, and my head began to spin. Looking to the side, I could see several heads peeking out from below the slope.

The heads froze the moment they looked up.

A soft sigh seemed to settle in my heart as I gazed at the figure leaning against a tree, sword in hand, standing forlornly on the cliff. Though clad in armor, the figure appeared remarkably frail. That thin frame, though strained, remained resolutely upright. Beneath the silver helmet, the pale, bloodless face gleamed with a jade-like luster. Red lips were tightly pressed together, delicate brows slightly furrowed, and the seemingly unfocused eyes, though clear and bright, radiated a cold light. The expression was one of doubt, of bewilderment, of confusion, yet it could not conceal the dazzling brilliance within. The frost-white armor and snow-white robes were already soaked in blood, like a blood-soaked phoenix about to take flight.

How could a dying person possess such brilliance? That stunning first glance, that moment of awe, is etched in the hearts of several people, and even years later, recalling it still evokes deep sighs.

If Wei Zijun had simply waited quietly there for the person to arrive, her hands would have been less stained with innocent blood.