Ning Que raised his head and looked at him expressionlessly. "But there are still some benefits to that kind of tiredness. Those who have learned Olympiad Math will not find it difficult when they look at the math questions in the Academy. They will only feel stupid. It's much better than the tiredness I've experienced in my life."
"I came to this godforsaken place and lived a good life in the General's Mansion for a few years. But because of you people, my good life is gone. Everyone I knew died, including my father and mother. I was only four years old at that time, but I had to consider the bullsh * t question of survival or death. Don't you think I'm tired?"
When he was four years old, he held a chopper tightly for the first time and killed someone for the first time. Then he saw the slightly black blood flowing along the chopper into his fingers and turning into a sticky semi-solid substance. It was then that he realized that chocolate hotpot was a very disgusting thing. After that, he washed his hands countless times, but he always felt that he could not wash away the smell of blood and the faint smell of rust on the chopper. This smell had been with him for a whole twelve years.
He put his right hand into the rain and let the rain wash it continuously. But he always felt that there was no way to wash away the sticky blood between his fingers. He said with a pale face, "I had never killed before, but now it's easier for me to kill people than it was for me to solve problems. I have never married, but I have to travel thousands of miles across Min Mountain with a little burden. Every time I see a person, I feel that he wants to kill me and take the burden away to be his concubine. Don't you think I'm tired?"
"I'm so tired because of you. So I can only relax after I kill all of you. Only when all the blood in your body has flowed out, will I feel that the blood on my hands has been washed clean. So you can think of this as a cold-blooded revenge, but sometimes I think it's more like I'm washing my hands."
Ning Que looked at the dying old man and said, "Use your blood to wash the blood on my hands."
After saying this, he squatted down and picked up the chopping knife beside the old man. He looked at the old man and said, "As for the question of whether you can rest in peace, you can ask when you see the heads of the people in the General's Mansion in the Underworld. But I believe that a boring guy like you, who lives a miserable life and thinks that you can't satisfy both sides, will not be able to rest in peace."
He moved closer to the old man's ear and whispered a few words. Then, he tightly gripped the hatchet and skillfully chopped off the old man's neck. Standing up, he picked up the bamboo hat from the rainwater in the courtyard and put it back on his head. Then, he pushed open the courtyard gate and walked out.
It was still raining in the courtyard, and the sound of iron being hammered could still be heard from the iron workshop in front. No one was chopping the firewood outside the woodshed, and the hatchet was stuck in the old man's neck.
Chen Zixian, the former deputy general of the Xuanwei General and now an old blacksmith in the Eastern City of Chang 'an, stared at the rain falling from the sky. His ice-cold eyes, which were like fish maws, were filled with gloominess and despair. He couldn't close his eyes, letting the rain hit his eyeballs and wash away the blood.
…
…
Under the big black umbrella outside the Slum Square, Sangsang silently looked at the entrance of the alley. Her posture hadn't changed since the beginning. Her small feet in old shoes had always been standing in the same place. The rain was getting heavier and wetting her hair and the clothes on her left shoulder. But she didn't take a few steps back to hide under the eaves.
There was no one at the entrance of the alley, but she heard footsteps. She turned her head and saw Ning Que, who was wearing a bamboo hat, walking out from an intersection on the west side. Under the shadow of the bamboo hat, his cheeks were extremely pale. She hurriedly held up the umbrella to shelter him from the rain, and then quickly left the alley when no one was paying attention.
The second name on the oilpaper list was finally crossed off today. Chen Zixian, who was killed, was one of the direct murderers of the extermination of the General's Mansion. However, Ning Que, who returned to the Old Brush Pen Shop on Lin 47th Street, didn't seem to be in a good mood. After wiping off the rain on his body and face, he directly lay on the bed and began to sleep without even washing his feet.
He had been suffering in the old library these days, and both his body and spirit had been extremely weak. Today, he killed someone in the rain, and the string in his spirit was stretched to the extreme. Then, he suddenly relaxed, and with the cold spring rain, he directly lay on the bed like a mudslide in spring, unable to get up again.
His slightly cold body couldn't feel much warmth, even though Sangsang had already covered him with two quilts. He stared at the newly pasted roof and murmured, "Do you know why I have to enter the Academy? Do you know why I've risked my life to stay in the old library? Do you know why I've risked my life to step into that world? "
Sangsang, who was squatting at the door, was busy cooking ginger soup. She didn't pay attention to his nonsense that would come every year and a half, nor did she have time to answer his boring questions.
Ning Que turned his head with difficulty and looked at the petite figure squatting by the doorstep. After a long silence, he smiled and said, "This question is a little ridiculous. Of course you know that … but others don't know that liking is actually the most fragile and powerless reason. It took so much effort to kill a censor and an old blacksmith. If I was still the me now, with three knives that look very strong … how could I have the ability to kill Xia Hou and the prince?"
"Xia Hou is too powerful." He turned his head and stared at the newly pasted yellow paper on the roof again. He murmured, "How can I kill someone at the peak of Martial Arts? If I don't embark on the path of cultivation, I will never be able to kill him in this life. "
"Her Highness said that if you insist on suffering in the old library every day, your body will be damaged." Sangsang held the boiling hot ginger soup and sat on the edge of the bed. She struggled to help him up and said in a low voice, "I don't know if you can embark on the path of cultivation. You will die of illness before Xia Hou dies."
Ning Que took the bowl of ginger soup and licked his lips weakly. He took a sip and said in a low voice, "Hope may be illusory, but it's better than no hope at all. So I have to work hard."
Sangsang looked at him quietly and suddenly said, "Young master, have you ever thought that if Master Haotian really prevents you from embarking on the path of cultivation, what can you do?"
Ning Que passed the bowl to her and wiped the sweat on his forehead weakly. He smiled and said very slowly and calmly, "If Master Haotian is so bad … Haha, nonsense, then I must go against Heaven."
Nonsense probably means to talk nonsense? Sangsang thought that her young master had indeed started to talk nonsense intermittently again. She unhappily put him down and went to wash the dishes to prepare dinner, ignoring him.
In the middle of the night, Ning Que's nonsense became more and more frequent. Because he had a fever, his pale cheeks were covered with an unhealthy blush. His eyes occasionally opened and looked back and forth between the yellow paper on the roof and Sangsang's face. He seemed to be unable to focus, and his dry and peeling lips spoke hoarsely and slightly incomprehensible words.
Bicycle backseat, registration fee, Youth and Children's Palace, chopper, chocolate, blood. Drag, blood; Min Mountain, blood; City of Wei, blood; Grassland, blood; General's Mansion was full of blood.
"On what basis? On what basis? … On what basis? "
He grasped Sangsang's cold little hand, but his eyes did not know where to fall. He tightly frowned and pursed his lips. His dimples were like a sad question mark, and his face was full of grievance. He kept saying these three words, looking very pitiful.
Sangsang changed the wet towel on his forehead and held him in her arms. She gently patted his back and softly coaxed, "Yes, it's all their fault. It has nothing to do with you, young master. It has nothing to do with you. They are all bad people."
In the early morning, the rain in Chang 'an stopped and Ning Que's fever also subsided. He drowsily opened his eyes and felt a burning pain in his throat. He habitually wanted to ask Sangsang to pour water for him, but he found someone beside him. He turned his head with difficulty and saw Sangsang sitting on the bed with her clothes on. He did not know when she had fallen into a deep sleep.
Glancing at her apologetically, he forced himself to get out of bed to get some water, but he still startled Sangsang behind him. Sangsang woke up with a start, hurriedly pushed him back onto the bed, and then jumped off.
Ning Que looked at her busy back and suddenly said, "Am I very useless?"
Sangsang brought the teacup to her lips and tested the temperature. She replied, "Young master, you are talking nonsense again."
Ning Que murmured, "I have read the Article on the Response of the Tao for so many years, but I still can't understand it. I can't even remember the words in that thin book on the Ocean of Qi and Mountain of Snow. I have worked so hard but still can't cultivate. Now I have fallen to the point that I have to complain when I kill someone, and even get seriously ill … I am really useless."
…
…
In the early morning, behind the tall and majestic red wall, in the imperial study surrounded by strange flowers and green trees, Li Zhongyi, the Emperor of Tang, stood at the doorstep and stared blankly at the dripping rainwater on the leaves. The Empress had just served him and washed up and had breakfast. For some reason, he suddenly wanted to take a look at the imperial study.
As the Emperor of Tang, the only man who made thousands of countries submit to him, he should not have any troubles in the eyes of ordinary people. However, at this time, he was silently looking at the garden, and his thin face was obviously a little restless.
"The Headmaster of Academy has gone to travel around the world again. I don't know when he will come back. Chao Xiaoshu has also finally slipped away. I don't know … if he will come back. "
Li Zhongyi thought of the good teachers and friends who had recently left Chang 'an, and his mood became heavier. Looking at the wet trees and flowers after the rain, he gradually felt lonely and lost. This was also the reason why he came to the imperial study early in the morning. Only in this room where no one would disturb him, he felt that he could obtain true peace.
His Majesty loved calligraphy. Although he often summoned the officials to appreciate his books and paintings, other than the Empress and the Fourth Princess, who were extremely fond of him, no one dared to disturb his peace without an invitation. He even did not let the eunuchs and palace maids tidy up the room. He did all the books and paintings himself.
He sighed and turned his head. He was ready to write a few pieces of lousy calligraphy to express his feelings. Suddenly, his expression slightly froze. He noticed that the direction of the books on a certain level of the bookshelf seemed to be a little different from before.
…
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