085.Qingjie
The rain was getting heavier and heavier, as if a river from the sky was pouring down and falling into the muddy water.
The spirit ship was moored at the river bank, not at Lukou Wharf. All the ghosts on the ship were liberated and reincarnated here. They had been wandering in the human world for too long. The Wei Dynasty was gone, not to mention their homes. After learning that they were dead, these ghosts did not collapse as Qingling had imagined. Their humanity was almost exhausted.
Only Lord Zhao looked at the water. He had never seen the world he existed in so clearly. It was the obsession of returning home that kept him going for so many years.
"I have no home anymore." Lord Zhao only murmured this before leaving.
After Miao Yuan and Zhu Lezhi sent all the ghosts away, the heavy rain had not stopped yet, so they hurried back to the inn where they had temporarily stored their luggage. The trip to Cangjun Mountains could be said to be relatively smooth, but Qingling was not happy.
When he embarked on this journey, he was thinking about ending everything, but now, he wanted to know the truth of a thousand years ago, and who was responsible for Shang Changheng's suffering for the past thousand years.
But people are always contradictory. On the way back, Qingling kept thinking about the previous dream and Shang Changheng's ending.
The road always has an end.
Qingling looked up at the sign of the inn in front of him. The sky was dim under the pouring rain.
Shang Changheng asked softly: "Qingling, what's wrong with you?"
"I just, just..." Qing Ling was in a trance for a moment, and whispered, "I didn't expect that they would leave so peacefully."
He heard Shang Changheng say in a calm voice: "Maybe it's because... there's no one waiting for them at home."
Therefore, there is nothing to be nostalgic about in this world. The years that belonged to them are the past, and all the familiar people died in those days. Dynasties have come and gone, and the world has changed. The dead are forever part of the past.
.
The rain continued to pour down, and there were thunder and lightning in the clouds.
After bathing, Qingling sat in the room and wiped his hair, still thinking intently about Shang Changheng's words. There were many obstacles ahead, but they had to move forward.
Taizhu mustard.
The person who left the note knew so much about the inside story. He must have been more than just involved. He might be one of the people who planned to sacrifice Shang Changheng.
But Shang Changheng has been unwilling to talk to him about the past recently. What is he avoiding?
Who turned the corpses of Zuo Baichuan, Wei Qingxia and Hou Su into that state and placed them under Shang Changheng's tomb?
"Qingling." Shang Changheng's voice brought Qingling back to his senses. He looked up and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Your hair is dry now, come and eat something." Shang Changheng stood beside the table, "After eating, take a nap. It's hard to travel on rainy days, so you can rest a little longer."
His voice was also clear and seemed even softer amid the chaotic sound of rain outside the window. Such gloomy weather was indeed suitable for staying in the room, not going anywhere, and preferably falling asleep, so that one would not be suffocated by the falling sky. Qing Ling was a little distracted again. His hair was almost dry, so he hung the towel and walked slowly to the table.
He was the only one who needed to eat, and Shang Changheng just watched from the side.
"Would you like me to light some incense for you?" Qing Ling's tone was very relaxed, as if he was joking.
Shang Changheng sat aside reading a book, and said with a smile without raising his head: "I don't eat incense, I like to eat something else, you'd better make yourself more tolerant of food."
Qing Ling almost choked. He blushed and said angrily, "Read your book!"
"Watching." Shang Changheng responded slowly, remaining calm and composed from beginning to end, as if he was not the one who teased Qingling to the point of fame.
Although he said something rude, Shang Changheng did not do anything to Qingling. Instead, he followed Qingling when he lay down on the couch. He raised his hand to lower the bed curtain, and then held Qingling in his arms on the bed that was isolated from the outside world, and whispered, "Have a good rest."
Qingling was indeed tired. He closed his eyes and listened to the rapid rain outside the window, which sounded like pearls falling on jade plates. The sound of rain seemed to be getting closer and closer in his gradually blurred consciousness.
"Hey, this is the last autumn rain, right? If it continues, it will snow."
Someone is talking.
A painting scroll spread out in front of Qingling's eyes, as if a moment a thousand years ago was frozen in the torrent of time. As the painting scroll became more and more real, everyone became lively in an instant. It was Hou Su standing at the door looking out, and the rain under the eaves looked like a pearl curtain.
Click.
The wooden slips were thrown on the table.
Shang Changheng sat behind the table with a very ugly expression on his face. His brows were knitted together and his jaw was tense. Qingling glanced at the wooden slip thrown on the table. There was only one sentence on it.
"Taizhu... what's the word before that?" Qing Ling read in a low voice. There was a word before Taizhu, which looked like two people sitting on the ground. It should be a word to address Taizhu. But without any connection between the word before and after, Qing Ling couldn't guess the meaning and pronunciation of the word. He could only read on, "Has brought the left general back to the court?"
Qingling was stunned.
Zuo Baichuan?
Didn’t Zuo Baichuan die in the city? No matter how cold the weather gets in autumn, people will probably start to rot.
Hou Su shrank his neck and sighed softly, "Don't be angry. The Grand Master said that General Zuo died in battle. It's not good to let his body drift in a foreign land. Sending it back will give it a grand funeral."
"What's the point? The person is dead." Shang Changheng sneered, "Zuo Baichuan once said that where a man dies is his grave. So many people were mobilized to dig up a corpse and bring it back. Is Shang Changjun crazy and letting that old man do whatever he wants!?"
Qingling heard it clearly and stood there in a daze.
Your Excellency...
That character turned out to be "Qing"... It must be "Qing". The characters looked very similar in shape, but he didn't recognize it as the character "Qing" because he didn't have a coherent and specific meaning.
Qing Taizhu, a veteran minister of three dynasties, his name is... Qing Jie!
Qing and Qing are two words with the same pronunciation.
The Qing family of Lincang is the family that guards the tomb at the foot of Zhanlong Mountain. Someone trapped Shang Changheng in the tomb and stole his luck to support the Qing family for a thousand years.
Qing Jie's notebook clearly recorded the process and location of how to sacrifice Shang Changheng. Taizhu, he was Taizhu, the Taizhu who was in charge of divination and sacrifice!
Qing Family…
Qing Ling suddenly remembered what Qing Congnan had said when his name was added to the family tree that day.
"Don't underestimate the small size of the ancestral hall. Our ancestors were from a wealthy family and even served as officials!"
Those ancient books left in the Qing family, the Emperor's Jade that he wore on his chest, Qing Jie and the Qing family...
Qing Ling finally got a glimpse of the secret that Shang Changheng had always been reluctant to tell in this dream. The Qing family was his cause and effect, and must be closely related to Qing Jie. Even... the Qing family in later generations might be the family that Qing Jie was born into.
Shang Changheng was still scolding: "If you have that much free time, you might as well think about how to get some food. A group of people ate and drank their fill and dug up a corpse to leave. Shang Changjun's favoritism towards Qingjie is definitely not a good thing!"
"Then... that person has been poached..." Hou Su said helplessly, "It's useless even if you get angry. Besides, didn't Qing Taizhu predict that the Great Zhou will not perish? We still have a chance."
"Divination? Is it necessarily accurate?" Shang Changheng sneered, "Even if gods really exist, they may not care about us mortals. Look at how many sacrifices the Dongyi people make. They even chop their own people into pieces on the altar. When winter comes, the number of people who freeze to death is piled up. Whether it's offering sacrifices to gods or ancestors, it's all for peace of mind. If his divination is accurate, why would we fight a war!"
Shang Changheng was really angry, and Qingling could hear that he was very dissatisfied with the new king Shang Changjun and the old minister Qing Jie, but with the outside world at hand, he had no choice but to reprimand them verbally.
"Anyway, winter is coming soon, the Dongyi shouldn't fight again, right?" Hou Su muttered, "Every year after winter comes, we can live in peace."
Qingling knew that this was indeed the case in the past, but starting from this year, the year when Shang Changjun ascended the throne, the fighting in winter would only become more brutal.
“Not necessarily.” Shang Changheng’s eyes suddenly turned deep, and he sighed, “In previous years, the Dongyi people would grab enough food before autumn to survive the winter. Even if they didn’t have food, they still had the people of the Great Zhou. But this year…”
He didn't say anything else.
Hou Su's face gradually turned ugly. He whispered, "So many people from the Great Zhou died of starvation this year. We don't have any food for them to rob... We don't have many people. The people in the city have all evacuated. If... if the Dongyi people don't have any food..."
His tone gradually became serious.
Shang Changheng slowly continued his words: "Hyenas that don't want to starve to death will come out to look for food even in the cold winter."
Shang Changheng had a keen intuition about war. Qingling felt very sad. He knew that Shang Changheng's words had really come true. In the two years before the demise of the Great Zhou, the fighting between the Zhou army and the Dongyi people was extremely brutal. They all fought to stay alive, and because they wanted to live, they fought desperately.
Natural disasters continued to hit the Great Zhou, and the people had no food left. From Shang Changheng's tactics, it was clear that he had been retreating, and all his attacks were for the purpose of retreating. If he did not retreat, then the next time he faced the hungry wolves of the Dongyi people, he would not have the strength to fight again.
So they fought and retreated, and the Zhou army kept the people of the Great Zhou firmly behind them.
But this undoubtedly cut off the Dongyi people's way of survival, so after decades of war, the Great Zhou Dynasty faced the Dongyi people's most frenzied counterattack.
The rain outside the door was getting heavier and heavier. Thunder suddenly sounded and lightning broke through the dark clouds. Qingling opened his eyes, his long black eyelashes were wet and tears were still falling from the corners of his eyes. He heard that the rain was still falling outside the window. There was no candle lit in the room, so he couldn't tell what time it was. Perhaps it was late at night and it was so dark between the bed that he couldn't see anything.
Qing Ling closed her eyes, and the tear rolled down the corner of her eye, but was stopped by cold fingertips just before it sank into her hair.
"Did you dream about me again?"
Shang Changheng lowered his eyes to look at the wetness on his fingertips. His tears were also warm. He added, "My past was not very happy. Qingling, draw a calming talisman for yourself."
Qingling thought, yes, Shang Changheng once said that he was an evil ghost and could only remember those cruel and miserable memories.
But now thinking about it, the three young men he saw at the beginning, watching the moon and chatting, might have been one of the few joys that Shang Changheng had in his short twenty-five years. After that, God had no mercy on him for the rest of his life.
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