(8)
A man who drives carts and horses during the day does not necessarily have to work harder than a woman who sits in the camp watching horses after dark. At least under the clear sky and daylight, they could occasionally meet other people and ask about the nearby terrain, road conditions, customs and customs.
Late at night, twilight falls, and the land that has been exposed to sunlight for a long time is slowly shrouded in a deep blue sky. The surroundings will become more silent, and the climate will become colder.
This kind of change between day and night is not unusual on the grassland: the lawn under the seat condenses with cold and refreshing dew, which touches the skin and makes the hair stand on end; bonfires are built where people stay, hoping to compete with the stars and the moon. , the result is nothing more than the fluorescence of rot grass.
Grass wetted by dew often emits a strong smell, allowing those who set foot on this land to clearly feel where they are. It also makes it harder for the fuel to burn. It puts travelers in a huge incense burner full of fragrance, and also forces them to face the cold night.
If this night can be called calm, it will not make people feel unbearable. Instead, it will remind people of the original desire they had when they first came to the land beneath them - what else does this quiet night contain? What about the beauty?
The two girls in cloaks did not have to squeeze into the carriage to spend the night. After all, it was full of sundries. If one or two people got in, the four of them would have to spend the night with their faces close to each other, breathing in the hot breath of each other's breath. One night. Murong Yan and Zichai both had very similar intentions towards such an embarrassing thing, and were determined to prevent such things from happening as much as possible.
"We women can also take care of the horses and luggage, so let's let these men take a break!" Murong Yan explained like this: "We can't tire them out, otherwise, no matter how good our songs are, no one will listen to them. ?”
For those who are accustomed to hiding in the night, the night is a close comrade and an irreplaceable natural shelter.
There will always be a lot of boring waiting at night in the grassland, and there will also be many colorful encounters; it is the darkness where you can't see your fingers, but it is also the romance of looking up at the stars. It's always surprisingly quiet here. The wind blows through the grass, passes over your ears and temples, and kisses your cheek. You are so close to nature that you can almost hear the heartbeat of the earth. In the end, you will find that it is the restless heart of your companions. .
Murong Yan has long been accustomed to living in the dark, and here she is no exception. As usual, when she got off the carriage, she didn't forget to grab a book and a bean-shaped lampstand from her luggage. Then she placed the bean-shaped lamp on the lawn outside and arranged the lamp oil wick herself.
After everything was ready, she stretched leisurely, then turned sideways and lay down next to the stage, using only one elbow to support her upper body. Then she picked up the book and started reading by night.
This is not something that happens occasionally, because during many nights during the long journey, reading various miscellaneous books was Murong Yan's main source of fun.
Zichai, another little girl who took on the task of keeping watch, was in a completely different state. Sitting all day long without doing any physical work was completely unimaginable in her previous understanding, which led to her endless exertion at night.
She was wearing Bai Feng's cloak. Since Zichai was originally much shorter than Bai Feng, the style of the cloak did not fit her figure at all, covering her body like a quilt.
She wanted to walk around, but because she couldn't bear the frost at night and her movement was hindered, she could only walk back and forth around the carriage camp. Anyway, almost every night she couldn't sit still for even half a moment before getting up to do something.
Washing the horse's mane with a horse brush, picking up dry grass to use as food or fuel for the horse, checking whether the horse is tied up, etc. These things are usually done by Zi Chai and Murong Yan in turns, but Zi Chai Chai seems to be more diligent, perhaps because she feels that doing chores can help her forget her inner uneasiness. Only when there was nothing else to do, she would curl up obediently and squeeze together with Murong Yan, staying next to the carriage.
Zi Chai would reveal many doubts buried in her heart to the saintly lady and ask.
"Why does Mr. Su call you 'Lord Saint'?"
"What books does Sister Murong read every day? I want to know too, but I don't know many words."
"Master Bai and Sister Murong are not husband and wife? Why do they look a little different from the couples I have seen..."
Murong Yan would always answer her in a particularly affectionate tone.
"The so-called 'Saint Lady' is just a little joke. Maybe it's because Mr. Su thinks I'm too sentimental, right?"
"You're talking about this book? This is "The Secret Collection of Xianbei" compiled by Jiangzhou Qian Linghe. I read it for several months and couldn't understand the story in it. It is said that there is a 'sacred tree' in it. As long as you can communicate with it, Through telepathy, one can predict good and bad luck and provide guidance for everyone in the world; it also says that the bloodline of Xianbei witches originally had nine branches..."
"Brother Feng and I are just pretending to be husband and wife for the time being... Sister Zichai may not have thought that at first he thought I was some kind of female temptress, and he was so scared that I was like a child about to be sucked dry of his soul."
Zichai listened to her words and watched her actions. The light from the bean-shaped lampstand was just enough to illuminate the gap between the two of them. She saw that the Xianbei witch would always put on a peaceful smile whenever she talked about something. With his eyes slightly closed, he approached the other party in a humble manner, as if he was stating: "This is a very common but very interesting thing."
The legends that were originally full of unpredictable ghosts and gods seemed to have become as ordinary as floating clouds in Murong Yan's eyes. There is no pretentiousness or deception, nor is one trapped in a castle in the air. Under such approachable communication, Zichai quickly fell in love with this wonderful woman.
Of course, they will not always be in such a good state of mind to experience the joys of the world.
Late one night, four days after the journey, a strong wind suddenly blew in the wilderness. This was a "shadowless assassin" that was enough to knock down countless caravans or convoys and disperse them.
No one could survive such a strong wind safely. At this time, they must be regretting that they had not been able to snatch Xiao Sigugu's tent together.
Four people squeezed into the carriage and pulled the three horses with all their strength. Zichai was small and squatted at the front, followed closely by Murong Yan. The two of them worked together to control a rein, while Bai Feng and Su Qing each held a rein and squatted in a very twisted body posture. He lay half on the ground on top of the two girls in front of him.
The wind was howling in the southeast direction, and the carriage's shaft yoke was barely able to support the horses' rampage, with a slight crack appearing in the middle; the windows opened and closed, rattling incessantly, and the horses outside the carriage were ringing one after another. The neighing sounds blended and echoed, like an evil spirit knocking on the door.
These are just a few impressive effects caused by the strong wind. As for the buns, makeup, clothes, etc. of the four people in the group, they were already in a mess, looking like beggars.
It was not until the end that everything calmed down, and everyone dared to loosen the reins slightly, but only because the reins were still hanging in their hands, and they could not be handed over to God at will.
