The nineteenth day of the winter lunar month, the cold winter, the first snow.
The Supreme Emperor who abdicated from Liguo passed away and was buried in the mausoleum of Emperor Liguo in the heavy snow.
When the Supreme Emperor passed away, the specifications were not inferior to those of the emperor.
The whole country mourned, and folk singing, dancing, and marriage were prohibited for three months. People set up memorials on the streets and hung white silk ribbons. People dressed in plain clothes respectfully sent coffins out of the city to be buried in the imperial mausoleum.
The fluttering snow fell silently on the ground, covering the ground with a layer of silvery frost. The people seeing off were all dressed in plain clothes. In the vast color of snow, it seemed that there was only one person between heaven and earth. A touch of white remains.
The snow fell silently, and the people also bowed their heads silently.
Until the middle of the street, a long dragon gradually appeared. The palace door was wide open. The chamberlain at the head was dressed in mourning clothes, with a white silk ribbon tied around his waist, and a black and white spiritual flag held high in his hand.
After that, a row of palace maids and chamberlains walked forward slowly with sad faces on their faces. They all carried bamboo baskets in their hands and kept throwing light yellow paper money. White snow mixed with paper money danced in the sky.
Desolation and deep sadness.
When the coffin carried by nine people with carved dragons slowly appeared on the street, the originally silent people seemed to have turned on some switch. Gradually, sobbing sounded, one after another, low and sad, in the heavy snow. It's like crying and complaining.
Behind a big tree, a twelve-year-old boy was wearing a plain white gown, with a hemp rope around his waist and a white headband in his hair. He did not cry or howl, but quietly looked at the coffin. It enlarges in his sight, and then shrinks little by little in his sight.
He stood quietly in the corner, where no one could see him. When the coffin passed by, he slowly knelt down on the ground. The snow slag soaked his clothes and brought a bone-deep chill, but the young man seemed to have no idea. Sleep once, twice, three times.
He kowtowed three times on the ground covered with a thin layer of fresh snow, wetting the broken hair on his forehead. After kowtowing three times, he raised his head again. The coffin had slowly moved away from him, and the corners of the young man's eyes were slightly red.
It wasn't until the coffin completely disappeared before his eyes, and the broken snow on the corners of his clothes melted and soaked, leaving a dark patch, that the young man slowly turned around and left.
The busy alleys in the past were silent today, and the doors of all houses were tightly closed.
The young man passed by one house after another. He was tall and straight, but his expression was a little depressed. He was wandering in the alley like a wandering spirit, but he couldn't help but come to a small courtyard.
Before the young man could push the door open, the door to the small courtyard had quietly opened.
It was windy and snowy outside the hospital, but it was warm as spring inside.
Separated by a wall and a door, it seems that spring and winter are separated.
Snowflakes were also falling in the courtyard, but there were also green branches and vines growing vigorously in it, exuding comfort and leisure. Moreover, the woman standing in the courtyard was wearing a long blue skirt, as thin as a spring shirt.
"came back?"
Lingchu raised his eyes and looked at his disciple Li Xianxian. This twelve-year-old boy had experienced family destruction and death in just six months, but he didn't even cry.
"Try the fruit wine I brewed myself." Catching the gloom in the young man's eyes, Lingchu was not good at comforting people, so he only gave him a pot of wine, sat under the flower stand, took two cups, and poured half a cup each. .
Li Xianxian was silent for a moment, then quickly came to the flower stand. After hesitating for a moment, he sat down opposite the master.
Before today, Li Xianxian had never drank.
He picked up the wine glass and saluted the master first, then raised his sleeves to cover his lips and drank it all in one gulp.
The fruit wine brewed by Lingchu was naturally made from spirit fruits. The fruit wine Li Xianxian drank was made from the mild moonliu fruit. The moonliu fruit only blooms at night and bears fruit at night. The flowers and fruits fall as soon as the sun rises. Elimination is a rare fruit.
When it is brewed into fruit wine, the wine is filled with moonlight, and the stars are dotted like light on a moonlit night. It is soft in the mouth, warm and cool in the throat, and refreshing in the stomach. It is a very suitable mild fruit wine for people who have never drank spiritual wine.
However, this wine tastes mild, but its staying power is not small. If you are not a strong drinker, you may have to have a good night's sleep.
Li Xianxian originally thought that the wine would burn the wine in his mouth, but he did not expect that the wine given by the master was so mild. Looking at it was like the moonlight shining in the sky, drinking it was like the moonlight falling into the arms, and his whole body was soothing.
Master's actions were indeed extraordinary.
Li Xianxian thought like this, and unknowingly drank two more drinks.
After three drinks, the drunkenness had already begun to rise, and the young man's eyes finally turned red, "None of them really felt sad for their father."
Li Xianxian's sadness was not only due to his father's departure, but also due to what he saw and heard today.
He stood in the crowd for a long time. Before the coffin came out, the people were very quiet, but Li Xianxian could see that no one had a sad look on their face.
After the coffin came out, everyone was crying, but he saw that they didn't have a tear, only the sound of sadness.
He didn't mean to blame the people. He always knew that his father was not an emperor who loved his people like a son.
But his father is a father who loves his son as much as his son.
He is not sad for his father as an emperor, but he is sad for his father as a father.
"My mother, who has always been in poor health, died when I was young. My father loved me very much. It was he who taught me how to walk, who held my hand and taught me how to write, and who taught me how to ride horses and archery. "He," Li Xianxian's eyes began to look misty, and his childish face became rosy under the influence of the alcohol, "The only dish my father knows how to cook is longevity noodles, because he has to make them for me every year, my father." No one is allowed to sit higher than him, but he will hold me high during festivals..."
He is not a qualified king, but he is a qualified father.
After drinking another full cup, the young man's mind seemed to be a little confused. He stared blankly at the appearance of his master in front of him. He looked like an immortal. In the bright snow, he seemed to be riding the wind at any time.
"Master, will you let me go?"
The little boy no longer has any close relatives. In the vast world, he is as helpless as a duckweed in the water.
I saw the fairy-like woman in front of me, smiling softly, as if the flowers were blooming in spring, and the world was full of fireworks. She reached out and gently rubbed the boy's hair, and the warm touch fell into the boy's heart along the hair.
"No, once you are a teacher, you will always be a teacher."
thump.
The young man looked at the master blankly, then fell down on the table. The wine glass rolled on the table and was about to fall off the stone table, but he floated up out of thin air and stood firmly on the table.
Still a child after all.
Lingchu patted his apprentice's little head, and with a slight lift, he easily picked him up and sent him back to the room.
Go to sleep. Once you get up, you'll be fine.
