Chapter 1094: Every bit of life of the living dead is as precious as gold
He lowered his head to look at the new calming sachet on his wife's wrist. The silk thread was tied with a double bird knot that was unique to the royal family of the previous dynasty.
“Yun Che, this time it’s real.” Wan Wan grabbed her husband’s sleeve, her fingertips trembling slightly.
"What kind of premonition is this?"
“Yeah.” She pressed her hand to her heart: “It feels like I’m entangled by vines. I can’t breathe.”
Xiao Zhan gently touched her hairline: "Yun Zhen specifically told me that you need to rest the most now."
He held his wife's cold hand and put it under the quilt: "Yaoyao just asked mother when she could fly a kite with her."
The sound of a night watch was heard outside the carved window. Lan Feng suddenly jumped up from the couch, with cold sweat on the back of his neck.
Jiang Xiaoan was adding calming incense into the copper censer, and sparks were crackling on the blue bricks.
"Don't be in such a hurry to get up!"
He held the man who was about to get out of bed with his arm across his chest: "Three days without a grain of rice, even a body of iron can't stand it."
Lan Feng paused as he grabbed the outer robe: "Xiao Wei's coffin has not been sealed yet, Xiao Wei... Xiao Wei's hairpin is still with me."
He took out a half-broken jade hairpin from his sleeve, the broken end of which was still stained with dark red.
Jiang Xiaoan suddenly slammed the porcelain bowl on the table, and the medicine soup left a dark brown mark: "Do you think they will feel at ease like this? Look at yourself in the mirror!"
He grabbed the bronze mirror and thrust it in front of the other person: "Old General Lan has been coughing up blood for three days and Zheng'er has cried until his voice became hoarse while hugging Xiaowei's cloak. You are now the last pillar of the Lan Mansion!"
Lan Feng looked at his haggard face in the mirror, his Adam's apple rolling. Scattered paper money floated in from the window, mixed with the sound of monks chanting in the distance.
"Finish this bowl of breakfast porridge."
Jiang Xiaoan's tone suddenly softened, and he scooped up a spoon and handed it to his mouth: "Before Xiaowei left... her last words were to ask me to take good care of you."
In the hot steam, he turned his head away and wiped his eyes.
The porcelain spoon made a crisp sound when it hit the edge of the bowl. Lan Feng suddenly grabbed the bowl and drank it down, with rice grains sticking to his stubble. "Third brother, please help me tie my hair. Xiaowei loves to see me wearing the white jade crown the most."
Lan Feng took the porcelain bowl and drank it down with his head tilted back. The rice soup rolled down his Adam's apple and disappeared.
The coarse pottery bowl made a dull sound when it hit the sandalwood table. He staggered out holding onto the door frame, and some color finally showed under his gray face.
Jiang Xiaoan stared at the rice juice remaining on the edge of the empty bowl, and his nails dug deeply into his palms.
He could pass medicine bowls and say comforting words to others, but he himself had a thorny coptis stuck in his throat - the girl who always chased him and called him "Third Brother" now couldn't even find the last half of her fingernail.
The giggling of children could be heard from the corridor. Lan Zheng was swinging on the tassel of Fu Dong's jade pendant.
Jiang Xiaoan was suddenly dazzled by the sunlight. He thought that when the child came of age, he would personally tie the silver and jade longevity lock left by Xiaowei around his waist.
Three days later at 5 pm, Xiao Zhan lifted the white mist from the medicine furnace and said, "Xiao An, tell me the truth, can she withstand this snowstorm?"
Jiang Xiaoan put the silver needle into the deerskin bag. The blood in the copper basin reflected his tightly pursed lips: "If Your Highness insists on going, I'm afraid he will faint if he even sees the spirit flag clearly."
He turned around abruptly, the pestle hitting the mortar and sending sparks flying. "Do you know that blood is still seeping from deep inside her wound? I could squeeze out half a cup of blood from the gauze I changed the other day!"
Suddenly, there was a sound of porcelain cups breaking in the inner room. When Xiao Zhan opened the three layers of brocade curtains, he saw Jiang Xue grabbing the broken pieces with her bare hands, and blood flowed like a stream along the brocade quilt.
“Yun Che, I dreamed last night that she was wearing the scarlet skirt she wore when she got married…”
Jiang Xue let him bandage her wound, staring at the window with a distracted look: "But when I opened the curtain of the sedan chair, there was a rag doll covered in blood sitting inside..."
Xiao Zhan used his fingertips to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes, but froze when his fingertips touched her hot skin.
The woman who had once led eight hundred light cavalrymen to break into the tent of the King of Beirong, now shattered into thin ice in the early spring in his palm.
"It's me who should kneel in the mourning hall."
He suddenly opened his shirt, and the hideous old scar on his chest twisted like a centipede: "If this sword had been able to penetrate half an inch deeper, you wouldn't have to shed tears in front of an empty coffin today."
Jiang Xue suddenly trembled violently, and a whimper like a young animal came out of her throat.
Xiao Zhan wrapped the person in his cloak and listened to the suppressed crying vibrating in his chest.
I don't know when the snow outside the window fell all over the ground, just like the 300,000 soul-calling flags at the foot of Yangshan Mountain that year.
He tried to persuade her gently, but the person in his arms curled up like a kitten, sobbing more and more brokenly: "Just let me do it this time... Cry it out, and you won't need it anymore in the future."
Xiao Zhan stroked her trembling back, and the blue collar of her clothes gradually became soaked with water. This regent princess, who had always been decisive and ruthless, was now as fragile as a piece of thin ice that could melt at any time.
When the morning mist on the city wall wrapped in raindrops wet her clothes, Jiang Xue suddenly straightened her back.
She wiped away the last trace of water, her eyes gleaming with cold light: "It's time for Huangfu Shang to pay with blood."
Xiao Zhan pulled his cloak tightly around her thin shoulders and heard the oath mixed with the tinkling of copper bells from the eaves.
As the funeral procession meandered like an ink streak into the rain, Yun Zhen was leaning against the battlements playing with his jade flute.
Seeing that Jiang Xue was still staring into the distance stubbornly, he suddenly put the cold flute against her wrist and said, "Your Highness, do you know that every bit of life of the living dead is as precious as gold?"
Before the last word fell, dark red blood foam came out, and strange flowers bloomed on the bluestone bricks.
Jiang Xue was surprised to find the purple-black veins winding under his sleeves, but he tapped her forehead with his flute: "The moonlight of the Western Region can wash away these dirt. Your Highness, please don't let me wait until the moon sets and the stars sink."
Xiao Zhan suddenly came in and separated the two of them, and the black iron wristband collided with the jade flute, making a clear sound.
When Lan Feng handed the swaddling clothes to her, Jiang Xue subconsciously took half a step back.
It was not until the warmth and fragrance of milk touched my heart that I realized I had already opened my arms.
The young master suddenly grabbed her dangling necklace, and his pupils reflected by the glass beads were sparkling - these eyes, which resembled Madam Lan, were now filled with a smile like the rising sun.
"He is recognizing you."
Lan Feng's voice was as hoarse as a rough blade.
Jiang Xue hurriedly turned her head away, but the warmth still fell into the baby's collar embroidered with lotus flowers.
Xiao Zhan silently handed over the handkerchief and saw that her fingertips had left deep crescent-shaped marks on the swaddling clothes.
The clear laughter of a child rang out in the warm room. Lan Feng gently stroked the head of the young child in his arms: "A Zheng's cheerful personality is exactly like his mother's."
The air suddenly froze.
The three words "Jiang Xiaowei" were like an invisible silver needle, which stopped everyone's breath.
Jiang Xue's fingertips trembled slightly, and she turned the teacup twice in her palm before it stabilized.
"I have the audacity to come here today because I have a great trust in you."
Lan Feng pushed the child forward, revealing half of his pale wrist from under his dark sleeves.
Xiao Zhan and Jiang Xue's eyes met. Xiao Zhan looked back and forth between Lan Feng and the child, with vague guesses already emerging in his mind.
"As long as I can."
The eldest princess' voice was tinged with the frost of late autumn, and the bloody scene of the city wall from that year was still vivid in her mind.
Lan Feng smiled his first genuine smile of the day when he heard this, and placed the swaddled Zheng back on the rosewood table: "Please accept Zheng as your adopted son."
Even though he had a premonition, Xiao Zhan still felt his throat tighten: "The bloodline of the Lan family has been passed down for three generations, and the elders of the clan..."
"My grandfather suffered a stroke more than a month ago, and my father is seriously ill and unable to get up."
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