Didn't they really come here to perform? Xiao Nanhui was full of doubts about this festival he had never witnessed before.
An hour later, her doubts had turned into real certainty.
The sacrificial ceremony was less than halfway completed when dozens of ceremonial officials, each holding various sacrificial instruments and magic weapons, led by Fu Qiu, surrounded the emperor in the middle, like a group of Taoist priests performing rituals to chant a spell to kill the people in the "formation".
She didn't know whether this sacrifice could really communicate with ghosts and gods, but she knew that this person would be exhausted to death.
At the moment, she could hardly stand, let alone the emperor who was bowing and cooperating with the ceremony.
Based on her understanding of that small body, she was very worried that the other party would not be able to bear the dozens of kilograms of clothes and headdress and would eventually faint on the altar.
Was it really like this every year? Was this a festival or a way to overcome a calamity?
She turned her eyes and looked at her neighbors again, but no one around her seemed to care what the emperor was doing.
The ministers were either daydreaming or dozing off, as if they had long been accustomed to this annual "execution scene", which made her look very naive.
As the sun went from noon to setting, the crowd of people gathered outside Changmi Terrace to watch the excitement changed five or six times, and the ceremony finally came to an end.
Xiao Nanhui already had sore waist and legs, dry mouth and hunger. He reviewed Yao Yi's Yunyexian and Du Juan's specialty, the crystal roast duck, in his mind three or four times.
But when she looked at the dozens of ceremonial officers who were full of energy and fighting more bravely, she almost suspected that they had taken some secret medicine before going on stage. Otherwise, she really couldn't understand how a group of fifty-year-old ministers, who usually needed help getting on and off the carriage, could be so useful and invincible today.
After another stick of incense had passed, Fuqiu, who had been sitting in the middle, finally changed his posture, picked up the cymbals that had been placed aside, and began to play them in a sobbing voice.
Hearing this noise, Xiao Nanhui finally perked up.
This was the procedure that the ritual officer had repeatedly emphasized and instructed before the ceremony began, and it was also the only part of the entire ritual process that required her participation.
In fact, it can't be said that I participated. I just cooperated with the emperor to complete the process of bestowing the sword, which took less than a cup of tea from beginning to end.
No one except the emperor was allowed to wear weapons on the altar. This was a respect for the gods and a rule established long ago for security reasons.
According to the original ritual system, no court officials were allowed at the altar except the emperor and the ceremonial officials. However, this year, in order to honor the spirits of the war heroes, a new procedure was added: the emperor bestowed the Jade Sword, a symbol of honor and protection, upon the meritorious officials.
Tiancheng respects the left, so the highest-ranking civil and military officials stand on the left. She stands on the far right, and there are still several people between her and Su Pingchuan, not to mention Xiao Zhun who stands on the far left.
But even so, being able to attend the ceremony of worshipping the gods and Buddhas on the same stage with the emperor was a supreme honor. At least at this moment, she was one step closer to Xiao Zhun's position.
Half a year ago, she went alone to the heart of Bijiang just for this day.
But now that she had finally gotten her wish and was actually standing on the platform, the feeling in her heart was quite different from what she had expected.
She thought of the Nanqiang boy she met on her way home, and the village where she had lived for several months and which was eventually reduced to ashes in a fire.
She paid an incalculable price for this day.
And perhaps what she once thought she had always longed for was actually what Xiao Jun wanted most of the time.
The crisp sound of the ceremonial officer striking jade rang in her ears. Xiao Nanhui raised her eyebrows slightly and found that the emperor had finished bestowing the sword on her left and was walking towards her.
After a long and difficult-to-understand chant, the ceremonial officer opened the last lacquer box, revealing the exquisitely decorated Ban sword inside.
The emperor slowly took the sword out of the box, held it flat in both hands, and handed it to her.
The emperor's hands were hidden in his sleeves, so she could not see anything. When she reached out to take the sword, she touched the man's palm, only to find that his hands were as cold as ice.
For some reason, her hand suddenly trembled, and her heart seemed to tremble as well.
As if possessed by a ghost, she looked up and found that the emperor's dark eyes were also looking at her.
Those eyes were still calm, as if they had lost their sense of cold or heat, sorrow or joy. Even if someone stabbed him at that moment, he would not have any big reaction.
For a moment, Xiao Nanhui felt that he was the only one on this huge Changmi platform.
She finally understood where the aura of eternal loneliness and desolation that she had felt on him since they first met came from.
What mattered if he was dressed in splendid attire, surrounded by thousands, and supreme? At this moment, there wasn't even a single person around to warm his hands. He could only stand alone in the center of the platform, playing the role of "god," accepting the worship and prayers of his people.
But deep inside this body, she firmly believed that the person curled up there was not a god after all, but just a human.
He is a person who can feel cold, hot, pain and laugh.
The cold wind blew the gold and jade tassels on Su Wei's crown, making a tiny golden sound.
He looked at her, as if he was about to say something in the next second.
She quickly lowered her eyes, as if she had never met his gaze before, knelt on one knee, took the sword, and then raised it above her head.
"Your Majesty, I thank you for your grace."
After a long while, she saw the black embroidered skirt leave her feet, and she let out the breath she had been holding in her chest.
The accompanying ceremonial officer tapped the sword in her hand with a long-handled hammer made of flint jade, indicating that the ceremony was over, and she stood up.
At this moment, a subtle sound came from the wind, but disappeared when it was about to reach Changmi Terrace.
Xiao Nanhui suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
She turned her head alertly, looking at the crowd of people watching from the nearby platform. It was a densely packed crowd, with no clues at all.
No, this feeling was actually familiar to her.
She had heard this long, resonant sound at some point in the past.
Shrill, approaching from afar, with murderous intent...
Her pupils suddenly shrank and she looked up at the highest point of Changmi Terrace.
On the altar in the center of the platform, on top of the intertwined dragon flag that towered up to the sky, stood a purple figure.
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