In the early morning, the wind and rain all night gradually dissipated.
The wind in the river is calm, the mist between the mountain gorges is hazy with a light dark color, and the emerald green reflection is washed in the rippling mirror-like water surface, as if all the chaos is just drifting in a dream.
The cool breeze blew across the river, and the banks were as dark green as green snails at the bottom of the pool. There were still layers of clouds floating in the sky, and the green sky shed a soft light like water.
The shallows on the river bank, with wild birds swimming in the water, are as peaceful as an ink painting. The gentle wind caresses the wet feathers of the gray duck, and even the rustling of young leaves on the mountain can be clearly transmitted to the bottom of the mountain, spotting the wrinkles of the water waves.
Far away on the beach is a stranded raft. There was an unconscious young man lying on it, muttering on his lips. His dirty and torn clothes had dried and were blown slowly by the breeze, like weeds on the shore.
Fu Yunge was unconscious for a long time.
His body seemed to have fallen into a bottomless abyss, pain gnawing at his nerves, and sometimes it seemed to be surrounded by burning flames, burning him to the point where he was worse than dead.
During a whole night of pouring rain, he was swept up in this lonely boat and finally ran aground on the riverside here.
After a while, his fingers moved slightly. The wind as gentle as jade has been soothing his injured body, causing his Dantian Qihai to begin to repair itself earlier.
He convulsed unconsciously at first, and soon opened his eyes in confusion.
What his fingers touched was the rough wood surface of the raft, and what he saw in the blurry overlapping of his eyes were blue-gray clouds. He seemed to be in a state of emptiness, and failed to realize the current situation several times.
When a tender leaf was brought down from the mountain by the wind and floated on his face, the comfortable coolness suddenly lifted his spirits.
He slowly raised his extremely heavy arm and grabbed the leaves from his face.
"Tsk..."
Fu Yunge moved his dry lips and tried to push himself up from the raft.
However, it was as if all the strength in his arms had been drained away. After several attempts, he slowly turned over, stood up half-kneeling and looked around the surrounding environment.
A completely unfamiliar place. Although it was very peaceful and beautiful, it made him fall into deep confusion.
How is Pazhuang and Chaoyun Street going? Where is Dongfang Shiming? Are Poinsettia and the others still safe? Also, where did Jiuche Xiaoying go? …
A lot of questions suddenly came to his mind, and he suddenly felt a splitting headache. No wonder everything felt cold to the touch. Fu Yunge suddenly realized that he had a fever.
He crawled to the river bank, took two handfuls of clear river water and washed his face.
Looking at the lost figure reflected in the water, Fu Yunge smiled faintly and bitterly.
My mind was numb, except for the scalding feeling of heat, and then the dry and bitter taste. Looking at himself in the water, he didn't cry out loud, he just smiled silently.
He couldn't explain why he was laughing.
But he couldn't cry, and his eye sockets were burning. Maybe it was because of the fever, or maybe because the tears had been dried up by crying when he lost consciousness last night. But he knew that crying was of no use. Could crying bring back those lives?
So many, human lives. They all fell down in front of their eyes.
He was supposed to die that night, but God seemed to be against him and finally sent him to this place.
Yes. Maybe he didn't deserve to die. But since he was lucky enough to survive, he will definitely take revenge on Jiuche Xiaoying for those who died.
He drank a few more handfuls of cold water and felt a little better in his stomach.
After relaxing for a while by the river, he struggled to hold on to his weak body and staggered a few steps, finally able to stand up.
You have to survive first. Fu Yunge struggled with his inner thoughts, looking at the gurgling blue waves, he told himself. Tongniu's confession and Pazhuang's blood debt have not yet come to an end. He had to hold on.
Waves of painful feelings followed one after another. Fu Yunge suppressed it forcefully, and his inner breath gradually became disordered. After a long time, the pain in his body gradually subsided and his mind gradually regained consciousness.
Is there... no one in this place? Fu Yunge muttered to himself.
He looked around carefully again, and the surrounding environment did not look like it was inhabited. Just when he was about to become discouraged, he suddenly discovered that on the mountain behind him, there seemed to be some signs of village dwellings hidden in the forest.
He quickly climbed back onto the raft and looked up from the highest point of the raft.
Under the thin clouds and mist, the mountains and trees are hidden, and it seems that there are really farmhouse eaves. If you stare carefully for a moment, you will see that there are even faint wisps of smoke floating out.
This discovery gave Fu Yunge another glimmer of hope. He climbed down from the raft on hands and knees and decided that the only solution for him now was to go up the mountain to harass this family and stay there for a few days before perhaps leaving by boat.
With no other choice, Fu Yunge hesitated and had no choice but to go up the mountain to visit.
He searched around and found a crooked branch not far away, which he used as a crutch to support his body. He found a dirt road that seemed to be able to go up the mountain, and slowly began to climb.
The wind and rain blew all night, but the next morning many new trees had sprouted. The mountains are surrounded by greenery, and the scent of fragrant young grass permeates everywhere. From time to time, after the rain, a butterfly flutters its green and white wings, which is very charming on the mountain road.
However, Fu Yunge's physical strength deteriorated during the climb.
The little strength he had just recovered was not enough to support his trek on the mountain road. Before he reached the mountainside, he felt as uncomfortable as his chest being suffocated by a rock, and it was difficult to breathe.
Not long after, he was sweating profusely, big beads of sweat dripping down his chin, and even his lips turned pale.
"Damn..." He gritted his teeth, but there was still a sticky smell of blood in his throat, and the dizziness and burning sensation invaded his mind again.
He slowly knelt down while leaning on the wooden stick, pressing his chest with his other hand, breathing heavily with a distorted expression, trying to stand up again. However, the situation did not improve. He gradually felt that the world was spinning in front of him, and he seemed to faint again.
"Can't be here..."
He kept warning himself, but he lost so much strength that he couldn't even hold the stick firmly.
As his fingers loosened slightly, the stick broke away from his hand and fell sideways. He stared helplessly at the stick, and his body seemed to fall asleep again as the stick fell...
Suddenly, in his dizzy eyes, it seemed as if a hand was holding the stick for him. But the hand did not return it to him, but threw the stick directly into a rattan basket.
Then, an old face suddenly flashed in front of his eyes. Fu Yunge's senses were confused, as if he saw the old man mumbling something to him, but his ears had long since lost hearing. After floating up and down in a daze several times, he finally fainted completely.
"..."
The old man looked at the fainted young man in front of him in confusion, pondered for a moment, and shook his head helplessly.
…………
