Chapter 38 With whom can I share this endless sorrow?
In complete darkness, Zhou Ziheng opened his eyes after waking up.
In complete, utter darkness, he blinked slowly and calmly.
After a long while, Zhou Ziheng finally turned his gaze to his left arm.
There, a blood-red osmanthus blossom stands vividly, the only, eternal bright spot in the darkness.
His expression was calm; he could even carefully examine which buds and petals had appeared on the osmanthus branch compared to before, and finally nod in admiration, thinking to himself:
"As expected of me, even the curse mark is so perfect."
Before Zhou Ziheng could make any further expression, Xi Bingyi and Huo Qin's voices came from outside the door.
"Senior brother is such a pig, he's still sleeping even though the sun is high in the sky."
"Perhaps he was exhausted."
The sound grew closer, so Zhou Ziheng crawled back into bed, closed his eyes, and pretended to have just woken up.
The knocking was jarring in the darkness.
Xi Bingyi shouted loudly, "Zhou Ziheng! Lunch is ready!"
"Wake up! Huo Qin and I are coming in!"
He lazily replied, "Mm."
Xi Bingyi and Huo Qin pushed open the door and entered, only to see Zhou Ziheng leaning against the headboard, his eyes still sleepy.
She glanced at Zhou Ziheng with concern. Her senior brother was never a lazy or sleepy person, so why was he still sleeping at noon today?
However, seemingly sensing her concern, Zhou Ziheng quickly said, "I was busy reading 'One Hundred Solutions to Poisons from the Western Regions' last night and didn't get a good night's sleep."
Xi Bingyi said "Oh," and then remembered that she hadn't seen the yellow paper yet.
She opened her palms and said indignantly, "I almost forgot about that, senior brother, where's the paper? I want to see it too."
Zhou Ziheng paused for a moment.
At this moment, he could already see a blurry outline in his vision, and as he moved his eyes around, he could vaguely see some patches of color.
So he pretended to be looking for "One Hundred Antidotes to Poisons from the Western Regions," hoping to find an opportunity to restore his eyesight as soon as possible.
After a long time, so long that Xi Bingyi was somewhat puzzled, Zhou Ziheng slowly said, "It's...on the table."
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and changed the subject, saying, "You guys go outside and wait for me. I'm going to wash up."
Xi Bingyi indeed found the yellow paper in the corner of the table. She excitedly picked it up, completely ignoring Zhou Ziheng's life or death, and left after giving him a few perfunctory words.
On the contrary, Huo Qin stood at the head of the bed, looking down at Zhou Ziheng with his eyes closed, and frowned slightly.
"What's wrong?" Zhou Ziheng asked, trying to sound casual.
Huo Qin suppressed his doubts, shook his head, and turned to leave.
Zhou Ziheng slowly exhaled, thinking his disguise was flawless.
But to his surprise, the carefree Xi Bingyi's face darkened the moment she stepped out the door.
The yellow paper was casually tossed aside. Xi Bingyi stared at Zhou Ziheng's calm face, her gaze sweeping over his left arm.
She and Zhou Ziheng spent every day together, growing up on the sacred mountain together. How could she not have noticed the other's abnormality?
...
When Huo Qin met Xi Bingyi, she was playing a bone whistle.
Soon, a grayish carrier pigeon fluttered its wings and flew over, landing on Xi Bingyi's shoulder.
Huo Qin asked, "What's wrong?"
Xi Bingyi stuffed the note she had written earlier into the wooden tube next to the carrier pigeon's leg and sighed, "Senior brother is acting strangely. I suspect it's related to winning the laurel wreath. I'll ask Master what he has to say."
She acted quickly, completing everything behind Zhou Ziheng's back, even the sound of her whistling was soft and fast.
The carrier pigeon quickly flew back to the sacred mountain, and Xi Bingyi put away the bone whistle again and picked up the fallen yellow paper.
Not long after, Zhou Ziheng, whose vision had almost fully recovered, came out.
He looked at Xi Bingyi and Huo Qin's retreating figures and asked in confusion, "Why are you still here?"
Xi Bingyi deliberately hummed: "Of course, it's to check if there are any problems with 'One Hundred Antidotes to Western Region Poisons' so that I can catch you red-handed."
Zhou Ziheng said helplessly, "I didn't do anything."
"Let's go, I'm starving."
The three of them went to the courtyard together.
Today, Madam Mei is hosting a banquet, and a cozy lunch has been arranged in the courtyard.
As soon as Xi Bingyi saw her grandmother, she immediately rushed into her arms and begged Madam Mei to tell her more about Huo Yunfeng.
"Good grandmother, please tell me!" Xi Bingyi said coquettishly, clinging to Madam Mei's arm. "I'm really curious, I won't tell anyone!"
Although Madam Mei doted on Xi Bingyi, she was unyielding on this matter, remaining silent and making her stance clear so that Xi Bingyi would back down.
Xi Bingyi puffed out her cheeks, her eyes darting around, deciding to approach the matter from a different angle: "Is my father coming to Plum Blossom Manor soon? I'll go ask him then."
Contrary to her usual demeanor, Madam Mei spoke with unusual firmness: "You are not allowed to ask!"
"Why? Aren't they sworn brothers? My father definitely knows more!"
Madam Mei was not swayed by this provocation. She snorted coldly and stopped talking, leaving Xi Bingyi scratching her head and sighing.
Madam Mei only told Mei Zhiying that she did not die because of Huo Yunfeng, but refused to reveal the real cause of death.
The story of the "Iron Triangle" is like looking at flowers through the fog, hazy and indistinct, with countless doubts and a tangled mess, like a bait box with a corner lifted, revealing a little fragrance, but the key point is never found.
Seeing that she couldn't persuade her grandmother, Xi Bingyi could only sit dejectedly at the dining table, resting her chin on her hand in worry.
Zhou Ziheng thought for a moment and looked at Madam Mei: "Madam, I would like to ask if the manor, besides forging swords and blades, also smelts any hidden weapons?"
Madam Mei replied, "Zhiying only makes swords and knives, and occasionally she makes other weapons when she feels like it, but she doesn't make hidden weapons. Bingyi's third uncle likes to make these little things and sells them in bulk to others to support his family."
Zhou Ziheng understood: Mei Zhiying was pursuing specialization, while Uncle Mei was pursuing quantity.
"Does Third Uncle also live in the villa?"
Madam Mei glanced at Zhou Ziheng, seemingly puzzled as to why he was so concerned about Uncle Mei, but still relayed the truth: "He doesn't live in the manor; he only comes to smelt on the thirteenth of each month."
He took out the throwing knife that had appeared in Zhang's house, deliberately revealing the plum blossom mark, and handed it to Madam Mei.
"Look at this, is this the work of Uncle Three?"
Madam Mei did not take it; she only glanced at it before turning her head away and remaining silent for a long time.
Sometimes, silence is also an answer.
Zhou Ziheng understood, exchanged a glance with Huo Qin, and put away the throwing knife without asking any further questions.
He smiled and poured a cup of tea for Madam Mei: "I have some questions for my third uncle. I wonder if you could introduce me to him at that time?"
Madam Mei did not intend to ask Zhou Ziheng the reason, perhaps because she already understood but was powerless to stop it, so she nodded as if to agree.
But Xi Bingyi seemed hesitant to speak.
After the three finished their lunch, they left together without disturbing Madam Mei any further.
Only after leaving the courtyard did Xi Bingyi ask, "Senior brother, do you really want to see my third uncle?"
"The 13th is such a date..."
She didn't finish speaking, but Zhou Ziheng understood Xi Bingyi's concerns.
The curse of plucking laurels struck on the 15th, and the 13th was indeed quite close to the 15th.
She was still unaware of the extent of Zhou Ziheng's curse, and the fact that he was intentionally concealing it only made Xi Bingyi even more worried.
If the curse is not severe, why hide it?
Zhou Ziheng looked relaxed. "It's alright. I'm not fighting with your third uncle. What's the difference between fifteen and thirteen?"
Xi Bingyi opened her mouth, but ultimately swallowed her words, deciding to wait for Lin Youbie's reply before speaking.
Huo Qin did not try to dissuade Zhou Ziheng, but patted Xi Bingyi and Zhou Ziheng on the shoulder respectively and said with a smile, "Then when you see your third uncle, why don't you bring me along too?"
"Ultimately, I also want to learn more about my father's past."
His reasoning was sound, and Zhou Ziheng could find no excuse to refuse.
Left with no other choice, Zhou Ziheng nodded in agreement.
The three made an agreement and then went about their own business.
At this moment, inside Plum Blossom Manor, Xi Bingyi was frantically searching for clues, Zhou Ziheng was so tired that he went back to his room to sleep, and Huo Qin was holding the "Report to the Emperor" sword, staring blankly at the blade.
Without Mei Zhiying, Plum Blossom Manor is like an empty prison, never to regain its former glory and splendor.
As midnight approached, Huo Qin did not go to the courtyard again. He asked the servant Zhou Ziheng for directions to his room, pondered for a while, and then quietly pushed open the door to Zhou Ziheng's room.
In the darkness of the night, under the moonlight, Zhou Ziheng on the bed was like a frozen statue, quiet and silent.
Huo Qin stood by the window and stared at it for a long time.
He was still wondering what it meant to kill someone and take their bones.
Why would Huo Yunfeng, who was terminally ill, say such a thing?
Was my blood-red dream related to the curse of winning the laurel?
He stared for a long time until the clouds obscured the moonlight and the room slowly darkened. Without the moonlight, Zhou Ziheng seemed to lose his radiance and become silent and cold.
The light has turned to darkness, and the road ahead is uncertain.
Huo Qin gently rolled up Zhou Ziheng's sleeve and glanced at the fiery red laurel wreath.
He raised his hand to report the emperor's will, quickly making a deep cut in his palm. He dared not delay, and immediately held his hand above Zhou Ziheng's lips, letting the blood drip down the wound like a stream, eventually splashing onto Zhou Ziheng's lips like blooming plum blossoms.
Drop by drop, Huo Qinqing couldn't help but slow his breathing.
He wanted to emulate his mother...
He wanted to confirm an absurd guess!
At that moment, Huo Qin thought about many things. He stared intently at the laurel seal, as if he wanted to bore a hole through it.
It wasn't until he repeatedly, numbly, cut open and pierced the wound again and again, until there wasn't a single piece of good flesh left in his palm, and the heavy smell of blood enveloped the two of them like a tight net, that he saw the laurel seal gradually dimming and lying dormant again.
Tonight's probing was somewhat unexpected, yet also somewhat predictable.
Huo Qin's face turned pale. He was somewhat pleased, but soon, he was overcome with dizziness and dazedness.
He was indescribable, feeling both the joy of his conjecture being confirmed and the sorrow of the fact that the outcome was already set in stone.
He staggered slightly, quickly bandaged his wound, opened the window, and waited until the smell of blood dissipated before silently leaving the room.
The night wind dried his tears, and Huo Qin returned to the courtyard. On the table was a cup of cold tea.
Madam Mei waited for an unknown amount of time before ordering the servants to reheat the tea. She sighed and said, "You've come so late; it seems you already had some suspicions."
Huo Qin's face was streaked with dried tears: "My father, he..."
...
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