Бессмертие, Бессмертие - Глава 82
Zhao Xiang slowly shook his head, "Father... he... he has to leave... he is a great threat."
"How could you say that about your third brother? I know he's a good boy, it's just... just a bit outrageous..." The kite was suddenly blown away by the wind. Zhao Pu rushed over to pick it up, feeling an even greater heartache after Shengxiang left. This child, he truly didn't know what to do with him! "Quickly—go after him! It's cold tonight, and he's not feeling well..."
“Father, Third Brother has grown up. He knows… what he’s doing…” Zhao Xiang’s steady voice finally trembled slightly. “He’s no longer that little child who was so weak he was about to die without our protection…”
Zhao Pu suddenly shouted sternly, "Third brother? When did you acknowledge him as 'third brother'? Did he say something to you? What did he say to you?" He suddenly grabbed Zhao Xiang, "He's never been so obedient! You told him to leave, you chased him away and he left... What did he say to you?"
“He said…” Zhao Xiang said blankly, “He said the Emperor wanted to kill him… He didn’t want to implicate you, so he had to be driven away by you.” Zhao Pu suddenly froze as if his soul had been ripped from his body. “The Emperor…”
"He asked me what to do?" Zhao Xiang stared blankly at Zhao Pu, a bitter taste finally welling up in his voice. "He asked me what to do... I don't know what to do except kick him out..."
"He..." Zhao Pu gasped, his face pale, and collapsed. Zhao Xiang supported him, "Father!"
Suddenly, Shengxiang's voice rang clearly in his ears: "Father, Father, don't hold it in, take a breath, come on... take a slow breath, um... don't rush to speak, exhale forcefully..." Zhao Pu gasped for breath, staring blankly at the desolate starry sky, "It's so cold tonight, where could he have gone?"
Zhao Xiang shook his head, his expression as blank as Zhao Pu's. "He only told me that he wanted to leave tonight, but I didn't know he had really committed a crime, and I don't know whether what's in the letter is true or false..."
Shengxiang ran out of the Prime Minister's residence.
He had long been prepared, but when Zhao Pu and Zhao Xiang's angry and heartbroken roars and rebukes reached his ears, he couldn't help but feel...covered in wounds...
That's because those scoldings weren't fake; he really... wasn't a filial son, nor a loyal subject.
The night wind blew, and the place where he had been hit by the paddle burned with pain. This was the first time he had been beaten, beaten by his father.
From that moment on, his father could no longer control him... From that moment on, the Prime Minister's residence could no longer be a source of pride for him...
I already knew it would turn out that way, but still...
Shengxiang walked out of Baozhuan Gate. It was still close to the palace. There were few pedestrians at night, and no one was around. He walked slowly alone under the moonlight.
Behind him was his home, a home he could never return to.
From that day forward, he had nothing to do with the Zhao family!
A sharp pain shot through his chest, but he silently endured it, walking step by step toward Quyuan Street, not wanting to make a mess of things.
But this time the pain was too intense; he had never experienced such a severe attack. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his face was pale, yet a faint smile lingered on his lips—even so, he couldn't cry; he wanted to laugh the moment he opened his mouth… Reaching the alley before Quyuan Street, he leaned against the wall to rest for a while, unsure whether it was the darkness or his own dizziness that prevented him from seeing the road clearly… After resting for a while, he simply sat on the ground and looked at the moon. He never forced himself to walk when he couldn't walk; this was perhaps the only good habit he had cultivated over the years.
The moon is very round today. People say the moon is a white jade plate, a copper basin, a toad, or a beautiful woman, but he thinks it looks like a pancake.
Slightly. Song was having trouble breathing. He tried to make his breathing more comfortable. He could almost hear the sound of his blood flowing through his body. His heart was slightly a bit off... His doctor, Qi Yang, proudly told him that he was fine, but there was a kind of heart disease that couldn't be detected until someone was dead... It was called "left pulse".
Like Wenren Nuan, the blood in her heart was not misplaced, but the blood... flowed from the wrong place, so... so she could die at any moment.
Therefore, he was very afraid of dying.
He enjoys himself every moment.
I want to play all the time and have more fun.
There was a time when he thought Qiyang was right and he was wrong; there was a time when he truly believed he could live to be a hundred, but then… then one time, he almost died…
His shadow was stretched long by the moonlight, growing longer and longer, inch by inch lonely, inch by inch thinner.
Then he got up, dusted himself off, checked that there was no dust, and headed towards Baitao Hall.
From this day forward, you shall have nothing to do with the Zhao family!
As Shengxiang reached the entrance of Baitao Hall, a smile appeared on his face. Even though he was not accepted by the world, lived without being needed by anyone, and did things that no one liked, he still hoped that everyone around him could be happy. Even though his reasons were absurd and ridiculous, he still hoped...—that people like Dayu, people like Si Yatou, people like Awan, could all be happy.
Therefore, he would not allow Da Yu to die no matter what.
Da Yu is a good person, but he himself doesn't know it.
Despite the lingering pain in his chest, he walked into Bai Tao Tang with a grin, only to see Shi Shi Mei on the third floor smile at him and nod, indicating that Yu Xiu had safely taken the person out.
That smile, for him, was like spring flowers blooming, bringing boundless warmth.
Then he looked up and smiled, a smile as beautiful as spring flowers.
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Desolate City of Baidi, Five Thousand Miles Away
December 31st night.
It was the day before the Lunar New Year. Outside Bianjing, the wind was biting cold and the ground was covered with snow. The official road leading to Zhuxian Town outside the city was spotless and white, with a foot of snow and no footprints or hoofprints. Tonight was New Year's Eve, and the next day would be the Spring Festival. Every household was brightly lit and filled with laughter and joy, making the countryside seem even more desolate and empty.
A horse-drawn carriage slowly emerged from the Nanxun Gate of Kaifeng and embarked on its journey to Zhuxian Town. Two fine horses trod in front of the carriage, leaving hoofprints on the snow as they moved forward slowly, afraid of slipping.
Zhuxian Town is located fifty li south of Kaifeng City. According to the "Xiangfu County Annals", "Zhuxian Town is said to be the hometown of Zhu Hai from the Warring States period. Zhu Hai's old residence was Xianrenzhuang, hence the name." A hundred years later, Yue Fei marched into Zhuxian Town, and the town became famous. However, in the winter of the seventh year of Taiping Xingguo during the reign of Emperor Taizong, it was still an unknown town.
Inside the carriage were a man and a woman. The man's face was half disfigured, yet the remaining half still possessed a captivating beauty; the woman was innocent and gentle, barely eighteen years old, and remarkably elegant. These two were none other than Yu Cuiwei and Wenren Nuan, who had disguised themselves and left Bianjing City through the Hundred Peach Hall. Yu Xiu had taken them outside the city and hired a carriage to take them to Zhuxian Town before returning to the city.
It seemed there was some important matter in the city waiting for him to attend to. Without asking who they were, Yu Xiu silently escorted them out of the city and immediately returned home. Wenren Nuan felt a little strange: Shengxiang actually had such a taciturn friend. As the carriage slowly moved forward, she glanced at Yu Cuiwei, whose injuries had not yet healed, and asked, "Brother Yu, do you think we're really going back to Bingzhu Temple?"
Yu Cuiwei gazed at the snowy wilderness outside the carriage window, and smiled slightly upon hearing this, "If I don't go back to Bingzhu Temple, where else can I go..." His words seemed quite desolate. As the abbot of Bingzhu Temple, one of the two great labyrinths of the martial world, he did not like to return to Moyan Mountain.
"Brother Yu doesn't want to go back?" Wenren Nuan smiled. "If you don't want to go back, where would Brother Yu like to go?"
Yu Cuiwei sat up straight and smiled, "I was just thinking, it's strange that after living so much of my life, I don't have a place I want to go..." He looked leisurely at the countryside the carriage was passing by, "Or... there is a place I want to go."
"Where?" Wenren Nuan gently stroked his long hair. Yu Cuiwei's hair was uncombed and let it flow freely, still giving him an androgynous appearance. She always felt a sense of pity for Yu Cuiwei, perhaps because she had never experienced the era of evil deeds committed by the "ghost-faced demons" in the story. In her eyes, this person was simply unfortunate, resilient, and beautiful.
“That place is too far,” Yu Cuiwei said. “Forget it, let’s not go.”
"Then tell me where it is." Wenren Nuan took a comb and combed his hair. "Anyway, it's still thirty miles to Zhuxian Town, and it's quite boring."
“There’s a place called Xiaomei,” Yu Cuiwei said. “That place is very far away, more than ten years ago, I can’t remember where it is, but there’s a family named Kang.”