Central region, desert.
The cavalry horses kicked up yellow sand and splashed it on the horses behind. The war horses behind scattered the flying sand again.
The cavalry formation galloped forward, leaving behind a sky filled with dust.
I don't know how long it took, but they were a little tired from the journey. Following the general's order, everyone tightened the reins together.
"Huh-" they all neighed loudly, and the horses stopped one after another.
General Slint looked into the distance. The scenery was no different from the road he had been on these days - desert, desert, desert again.
After a while, the general shouted to the army: "Drag that Orchidist over here."
There was a commotion in the army, and a man in white was thrown out. The man looked like he had very little strength. After being thrown out, he
He fell directly to the ground.
This man's white clothes were in tatters, and the exposed skin with large and small holes was simply horrible: there were numerous scars, and the scars that had not yet healed were intertwined with new scars. Among them, the more obvious ones were stab wounds and scratches. Injuries, abrasions...
Slint strode forward, grabbed the man's hair, looked at his bloody face, and asked ferociously: "How long until we arrive?"
The man's eyes moved, observing the distant scenery between the general's legs and remembering. Just as the grumpy general was waiting impatiently to press his head into the hot sand, the man's Adam's apple moved a few times, and a hoarse voice came out of his mouth:
"About a month." The voice was very small.
"Trash!" Slint slammed the man's head into the sand, "You can't seize the chance to talk to me, you're going to die!"
The man's head was buried in the sand, and his whole body was motionless.
Slint straightened his armor, stepped onto his horse, drew his sword, and shouted: "March!"
The cavalry formation continued to gallop, but they all consciously avoided the lying man in white.
After the sand and dust raised by the cavalry formation settled, the man pulled his head out of the sand and took a few breaths with great difficulty. After lying down for a while, he took out a bracelet from somewhere. He clutched the bracelet tightly, brought it to his eyes, opened his tired eyes, and looked at the bracelet.
There is almost nothing special about this bracelet. The entire bracelet is dark and there are no patterns on the surface, but there is something written in blue on the surface. The man was familiar with what it was, but he still wanted to read the words carefully. However, his breathing became more and more rapid and his vision became blurry. He wanted to see more clearly, so he put the bracelet in front of his eyes. When he was about to see what was written on it, the bracelet seemed to get bigger and bigger, and soon there was only black in his field of vision...
Suddenly, the hand holding the bracelet hit the sand.
The surrounding wind picked up the sand and slowly swallowed him...
…
Eastern region, central region.
This is a valley unknown to most people.
Shrouded in clouds and mist, it seems to be a legendary fairy home.
The birds are singing and the flowers are fragrant, and it seems to be a place of enjoyment for the nobles of the country.
The forest path seems to lead to the mysterious place in the dreams of those who want to get something for nothing.
Inside the valley, there is a small pavilion. Beside the pavilion, there is a huge locust tree. The locust tree is so tall that it seems to have climbed up the pavilion. The dense locust leaves seemed to cover the entire pavilion.
The most special thing about the entire valley is the faint aroma of wine that can be smelled wherever you go. If you don't mind it too much, you'll get used to it quickly. But if you pay attention, even a light drinker might get drunk slowly.
A young man in linen robe stood in front of the pavilion on the mountain peak, bowing to the old man in linen robe in the pavilion.
The old man in linen robe looked at him, raised a small glass of wine beside the table, and focused his eyes on the chessboard on the stone table again. His eyelids were half closed, he put down his wine glass and asked, "How is it?"
Disciple reported: "I just received news from two senior brothers. They have convinced all countries and all princes have expressed their stance. All subsequent actions will be based on the Nine Provinces Plan."
"Yes." The old man in linen robe nodded and looked up at him, "Where is the Academy?"
"The Academy has not made a clear stance yet."
"Um."
Seeing that the disciple still had something to say but was still stunned, the old man in linen robes took the initiative and said: "What's the matter? If you have something to say, just say it, don't hide it. Even if the sky falls, I will still be there to support you. Even if I am alone. If I can’t hold on, I still have a lot of old bones! But if I don’t have the power to fight back, it goes without saying that no one in the entire ancient continent can hold on.”
The disciple knew that the teacher was confident, not arrogant, nor arrogant. After looking at each other, the disciple took a step forward and lowered his head and said: "Elder brother asked me to tell the teacher that each country is just expressing its stance, and the specific details need to be decided by the teacher."
"Hey!" The old man in linen robe smiled and clapped his hands, "What did I think?"
After that, he looked to the west and seemed to be able to see something across thousands of mountains and rivers.
"Did my great disciple tell me where he was going?"
"Disciple asked, Qin State."
"Well, I saw him."
The old man in linen robe turned his head and looked in one direction again, and saw this scene.
…
Dazhou, guarding the Tibetan room.
Once upon a time, this place was not only the historical archives of the Zhou Dynasty, but also a storage room for classics with hundreds of years of heritage.
However, looking up at the current storage room, one can see that it is a ruined cliff and is in a mess. The wooden shelves where the classics were stored were in disarray, and seemed no different from the pile of firewood piled up in front of the woodshed.
An old man, hunched over his thin back, struggled to find something in the ruins. He didn't seem to care about his tattered official uniform that represented an extraordinary official position but had long been worn.
In Dazhou, it is undoubtedly rude to wear such tattered clothes, especially for such a high-ranking official as this old man.
But the old man didn't seem to have too many worries of one kind or another, and he was still searching hard.
Finally, with a hearty laugh, the old man straightened up. What he was holding in his hand was exactly what the old man was looking for, and it was also the only thing left in the entire storage room - a half-rolled bamboo slip.
The old man opened the bamboo slip in his hand, glanced at it briefly, and then lowered his head to search for the second half of the scroll, but to no avail.
There was a hint of disappointment in the old man's eyes, but then it turned to relief. He spread his legs, threw himself at the still intact desk, found an empty bamboo slip, spread it out, picked up a pen and recalled it.
As the history of the Keeping Room, the old man spent decades here, read through all the books in the Keeping Room, and realized the great truth in his heart through what he had learned throughout his life. However, not long after enlightenment, under the disbelieving but helpless eyes of the old man, the Shouzang Room became a victim of anger due to the dispute over the throne and was destroyed by fire.
That was a past that the old man didn't want to think about. The shattered hope, the tragic farewell of his best friend, the ashes of his hard work... These were like hard thorns inserted deeply into the old man's heart, even if it was an unintentional breeze. When it passes by, it is an indescribable pain in the heart.
Mobilizing the writing and ink in his belly, the old man took a deep breath and began to write the second volume silently while comparing it with the first volume of the bamboo slips.
The candlelight flickered, reflecting the old man's body hunched over his desk. The thin black shadow on the wall seems to be telling the last story here.
Put the pen down, dry the ink, wind up the scroll, stand up, and hold the candle. These familiar actions again. But the old man knew that this might be the last time, at least the last time in this storage room.
Stepping over the sawdust, wood chips, and wooden strips at your feet, you looked back at the broken beams, remaining columns, and fallen walls. The old man turned around and slowly walked out of the hiding room.
Stepping out of the storage room, I felt the breeze blowing. The bright and sunny scene in front of him was full of depression in the eyes of the old man.
Suddenly, the old man seemed to notice something and looked in one direction.
…
In an unknown valley.
The old man in linen robes laughed first, and then, under the astonished eyes of his disciples, he bowed to the place he was looking at.
