Chapter 3
At the beginning, I always miss you deeply and sincerely.
Then there are always clear and shallow picking and choosing, you are annoying and I dislike
In the end, it will always be cold and indifferent, with stars dotted around, you hate me and I resent you
Love is fickle and thorny.
There was faint music playing in the huge courtyard. Even if there was sound, it was too quiet. No other sound could be heard except the music.
When Zhang Yihui first regained consciousness, he instinctively defended himself against the outside world. He remained motionless, trying to sense what was happening. Was he being captured by the Hedan tribe? Later, he felt something was wrong. Despite being severely injured, he didn't feel any pain. His body felt relaxed, as if he hadn't been injured at all, and he wasn't tied up.
This kind of erratic and decadent music is not something that barbarians can possess. The singing in the song sounds like it has a heavy accent, and it is not the Mandarin of the Central Plains. However, if you listen carefully, you can still understand some words.
He quietly opened his eyes. There was no one guarding him. It seemed that he was not captured by the enemy, but was rescued. He sat up and the thin blanket slid off his body. There was not a single scar on his naked upper body. He remembered that he had been seriously injured before. Now, not to mention the wounds, even the scars of all sizes on his body were gone. He touched his body up and down to confirm that this was indeed his own body.
He might be dreaming, or he might have died and arrived in the fairyland. No wonder even the houses were of a style he had never seen before, and there was music he had never heard before.
After stepping on it barefoot, I found that the ground was made of a smooth and flat wooden board, and I didn't feel cold even without wearing shoes.
Pink petals fell through the cracks in the windows and doors and landed at my feet, piling up in the corners and beside the bed.
When I walked out of the house, there was a peach forest in bloom outside. Petals were falling like rain and the ground was covered with a layer of petals. Walking there felt like a dream and it didn't seem real at all.
I saw a huge peach tree in the distance. Before I got close to the tree, the man in white standing under it turned around. His clothes were covered with layers of gauze. It was indeed a fabric and style that I had never seen before.
What embarrassed Zhang Yihui was that the immortal's clothes were too bold, with the collar wide open and most of his chest exposed. He only knew that it was an immortal and not a fairy, so he immediately lowered his head, not daring to look at him any more. He stood at a distance and did not dare to get any closer, for fear of offending the immortal.
Yaoyao bowed and said, "Mortal Zhang Yihui greets the immortal."
Rong Zhou, who was about to say hello, was stunned by his address: "Ah, I'm not an immortal, I just happened to save you." The white figure slowly approached with the voice.
The man's voice was clear and gentle, with a unique appeal. Like the only source of water in the desert, one couldn't help but look up.
Zhang Yihui never knew what beauty was. As a burly man, he loved practicing martial arts since he was a child. He never knew what beauty meant by the charming hotel proprietress sitting in the same window or the top prostitute in the brothel he went to with his colleagues. In his eyes, they were all the same, just a nose and two eyes.
Now he knew what black hair and snow-white skin meant. His hair was tied behind him smoothly like black satin, his skin was a cold white that was almost transparent, his eyes were a warm and moist brown with some purple, his light red lips were thin and hooked with a slight arc, and gentleness or indifference was faintly visible in this arc.
Zhang Yihui never knew he had so many words to describe beauty, and he wanted to use all the compliments he had learned on this person.
His eyes accidentally swept over the collar that was open to the abdomen, and his face flushed red, burning to his ears. Now he only had the courage to face the flower petals on the ground.
Rong Zhou was left speechless by the man's reaction. His wife had made the face, and he thought it was too feminine, but his wife liked it. He regretted it after it became real. How could he have known it would turn out like this? It was even worse than his old, bearded face.
"You've been in a coma for three days. Do you want to eat something now?"
"Three...three days." Zhang Yihui's short-circuited brain finally came back online. Three days had already passed. Was the general out of danger? How was the battle situation on the border? Had the traitor been caught? "My...my pursuers?"
"No rush, we can talk while we eat." Rong Zhou snapped his fingers and called the butler over, "Prepare some food for the guests and have a quick chat over a few drinks."
Zhang Yihui was somewhat bewildered. This savior spoke differently than anyone he knew. He clearly didn't look like a barbarian, yet he wore such bold clothing. The fact that they were sitting face-to-face made him even more confused.
Only the wine glass in front of him could hide his current embarrassment. He drank a glass every time he answered two questions to moisten his throat, which was dry from excessive tension.
The butler beside him was also quite considerate and filled his glass one by one.
In the end, he didn't know how many cups he drank, what questions he answered, or when he fell asleep. When he woke up, it was already the next day.
Zhang Yihui was confused, not because of the aftereffects of a hangover, but because he recalled the nonsense he said last night when he was drunk, and he wanted to bury his head in shame.
He remembered that in the end he cried and shouted for revenge for his dead brothers.
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"Master Zhang, parting is always sad. My master can't drink much. He was drunk last night and couldn't see you off in person. This is the real red knife given by my master. I hope you will take good care of it." The butler Wen Ci Qiu spoke calmly, holding a black long knife in his hand.
After hearing what the housekeeper said, Zhang Yihui breathed a sigh of relief. He was too embarrassed last night and would be ashamed to see the master again.
"I have nothing to offer you, sir, for saving my life." Zhang Yihui, ready to go, respectfully accepted the black long sword. "When I return, I'll bring you a valuable gift to thank you, sir, once the border is secure."
"That's not necessary. Just take care of yourself. There's no need to come looking for me again. You might not be able to find me then. Just take care of yourself, and my master's willingness to save you will not be in vain."
Zhang Yihui led his warhorse and bowed deeply towards the courtyard.
Under the watchful eye of the housekeeper, I passed the gate of the courtyard, which was covered with small yellow flowers. It was just one step away. On one side was green grass, and on the other side was yellow sand. When I mounted my horse and looked back to say goodbye, there was no peach garden behind me, only an endless sea of yellow sand.
Zhang Yihui's pupils dilated slightly, a mixture of surprise and expectation. A courtyard filled with flowers in the desert didn't look like an ordinary place at all, more like a dream. But the four full water bags and rations on his horse's back, the clothes he wore (his original clothes were no longer wearable), and the long sword in his hand proved that this was a real place. He had indeed spent four days there (although he was unconscious for three of those days).
He rode back and forth three or four times, trying to find a petal, but there was nothing but sand. Even though the gentleman denied it, he still believed he had met a fairy.
He bowed once more towards the empty desert, turned his horse's head, neighed, and ran in the direction pointed by the butler. Borders, generals, traitors, wars, these were all matters for mortals. It was a blessing in three lifetimes to meet an immortal. His experience was truly legendary.
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Rong Zhou stood in the pavilion of the rockery, watching the figure disappearing over the horizon. This was an imaginary world very similar to the ancient times. He called himself Dayu. 260 years after the founding of the country, there were many factions in the court, and every year there were various natural disasters, with countless deaths and injuries. The south was divided and the north was harassed.
Their general is the emperor's uncle. Two years ago, the emperor lost three cities on the border. After the uncle went to the border to defend the border, he took back the cities and the border was finally at peace for a year. But just as the general was about to return to the court, the barbarians on the border invaded again, ambushing and attacking the general while he was on patrol. At the same time, there was also an assassination attempt by a traitor.
He was the second most powerful guard. He put on the general's armor and led a part of the guards to lure most of the enemies into the desert. The seriously injured general had a small group of guards led by the most powerful guard to break out from another direction.
All his brothers who followed him died, and he struggled to hold off the enemy, trying to hold on for as long as he could, until he finally lost his way in the desert.
Zhang Yihui, who was drunk, insisted on kneeling down and kowtow to him, thanking him for saving his life. He called him a god and said that he did not want to die. He said that he had regrets about not completing some tasks and not fulfilling his filial duties.
Rong Zhou is a good listener. His occasional responses and guidance, and the final comfort, allow Zhang Yihui to speak freely.
He also roughly understood what kind of world this was, a world in turmoil and war, which might even be the end of an era. For people in a peaceful world, no matter how much they heard, it was just a story. They only saw some war smoke from the soldier in front of them.
Of course, no matter what happened, it would not affect him. Holding two glowing balls in his hands, he was feeling the strange energy.
If that energy is described by taste, it would be a fiery spicy taste with a bitter aftertaste. It represents the desire for life in the face of death, and the obsession that cannot be let go.
"Master, should we start preparing the bodies of the young master and young lady?" This was the question asked automatically by the butler after he sensed the psychological changes of the master. They were one, and the energy flowed back and forth, and he could sense some of the psychological changes of the master.
"I don't know." Rong Zhou was very confused now. The conditions for reshaping the children's bodies had been met, but he hesitated. The long dimensional journey before almost drove him crazy. He didn't think his two children could bear it.
Even if they are connected to this world now, they are just in this cage and cannot even feel the scorching heat of the outside world. Should they let their children go to jail with him?
"If the master wishes, they can be completely separated from the young masters and young ladies. They will grow up from infancy, just like normal humans, and can also leave this courtyard freely. They will not be bound to other worlds, nor will they be rejected by this courtyard. However, the disadvantage is that they are completely out of the master's control."
This is a solution. This is normal as it was not known in the original world.
"Let me think about it." He was still a little traumatized by the previous dark journey. This yard looked big, but it certainly couldn't withstand the tossing and turning of two children. They could leave here freely, but he couldn't be with them. How could he let them go out without worrying? Sigh, he was worried.
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