They guard the nation's gates with long spears, and return home wrapped in horsehide. Even if they die in battle, their bones will be buried beneath the mountains and rivers they protect.
The tombstone doesn't need to have too many words. Just one sentence, "General Mu Yunxi, who guarded Yanmen Pass for three years and five years," will suffice.
But the appearance of Qin Qianluo was like a warm pebble, shattering my stagnant plans.
The capital city has not seen such a vibrant and interesting person for a long time: the light in her eyes, the words in her heart, even the puffed-out cheeks when she secretly ate osmanthus cake, all exude a lively energy.
When she squatted by the wall of the Prime Minister's residence to feed the lame raccoon, she would break the osmanthus cake into small pieces, pinch them between her fingertips, and hand them over, coaxing them softly.
"Eat slowly, no one will take it from you. I have plenty more here, all freshly steamed from the kitchen."
The raccoon timidly rubbed against her fingertips, and she smiled so hard that the corners of her eyes turned up, like a little fox secretly enjoying itself, even the silver beads on the tips of her ears swayed happily.
When she studies wood carving, she frowns at a piece of pear wood, her fingers unconsciously tracing arcs on the wood.
He thought to himself, "This texture is smooth, suitable for carving magnolias. The petals need to be thin enough to be translucent to look good, and the downy hairs on the calyx need to be carved with fine lines, as fine as hairs, to make it look realistic."
After carving, it needs to be sanded three times with fine sandpaper so that it won't feel rough to the touch.
I want to stay a few more days to see what new things she can do and to hear how many old stories she still has that I don't know about.
Even just watching her pale figure walk past the palace wall from afar, the hem of her robe brushing against the blooming crabapple blossoms, leaving a faint fragrance, made the chill on my armor seem to lessen.
Until that day, after the discussion of the Northwest war in the imperial court, the emperor patted his dragon throne and approved my request to send 3,000 more troops to guard Yanmen Pass.
All the civil and military officials bowed and praised, "General is wise, Your Majesty is sagacious!" The sound was so loud that some of the dust on the palace beams fell off.
She stood at the very end of the civil officials' quarters, her eyes lowered, her eyelashes casting tiny shadows beneath them, like a layer of thin snow.
I loosened my grip on the sword hilt; the numbness in my knuckles hadn't subsided yet. I was about to turn to her and say, "May you have ample provisions from now on."
You no longer need to mutter to yourself, "The soldiers' pay is being withheld, and they will freeze in the winter."
Suddenly, I heard the voice in her heart, heavy as iron soaked in ice water, with a slight, imperceptible tremor, like a broken string.
Her death in her past life was so tragic and so unwilling, it felt like tiny needles suddenly piercing the softest part of my heart, gripping me so tightly that my breath caught in my throat.
At that time, I thought I was just thinking about how my parents died in battle at Yanmen Pass. I gripped the hilt of my sword "Broken Snow" tightly, my knuckles turned white, and my nails almost dug into my flesh.
I didn't dare to think too deeply about the other feelings hidden in that pain, feelings that didn't belong to my memories; I just took it as empathy for someone suffering the same pain.
Later, the Left and Right Prime Ministers' residences were decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and red silk was wrapped around the vermilion pillars. Even the plaque above the door that read "Left Prime Minister's Residence" was covered with red cloth.
The stone lions in front of the gate were draped in red silk, with big red flowers in their mouths, and even their eyes were painted red.
The bright red lanterns hanging from the eaves shone so brightly that they illuminated the drifting clouds in the sky, and even the wind carried a festive warmth, unlike the usual coolness that felt on the face.
I was wearing a brand-new set of silver armor, the plates polished to a shine, and even the red tassel on my helmet was neatly combed and tied in a knot with blue satin.
He went to offer his congratulations as a "colleague," but dared not enter the festive courtyard, and only stood under the old locust tree outside the wall.
The leaves have fallen all over the ground, rustling underfoot, as if counting the bitterness in my heart, drop by drop, falling all over the ground.
From inside came the emcee's loud and clear voice: "The newlyweds bow to heaven and earth!" That voice was like a thread, pulling my heart up high.
It plummeted downwards again, hitting me hard and making my chest feel constricted, and even my breathing became heavy.
I tiptoed inside and saw Qin Qianluo wearing a red wedding dress embroidered with twin lotus flowers, the beads on her phoenix crown shimmering with tiny light.
The hair ornament trembled gently as she bent over, the beads clinking together and making a melodious tinkling sound.
Su Jinyun wore a wedding dress of the same color and a phoenix crown. She held one end of a red silk ribbon in her hand and wrapped the other end around her wrist.
The red silk was wrapped around three times, like a tightly bound destiny that could not be untied or broken apart.
The two stood side by side, their fingertips secretly intertwined under the red silk. When she looked up at Su Jinyun, the smile in her eyes was as sweet as honey.
Even the tips of her ears were a delicate pink, like peach blossoms just blooming in March, so tender they looked like they could be squeezed for water.
At that moment, the sharp, stabbing pain from before suddenly surged back up, carrying an indescribable bitterness.
It felt like swallowing a mouthful of snow that had just been broken off the eaves; it was so cold it made your teeth ache, and the chill ran from your throat all the way to your heart, even your breath felt like it was filled with ice crystals.
It was only then that I belatedly realized that the beginning of my infatuation was not the sight of her fair skin that caught my eye in the imperial palace, nor her soft, giggling laughter as she fed the raccoon dog.
It was the inexplicable heartache she felt when she heard about her past life that day, a heartache that even she herself couldn't understand.
I feel sorry for the tragedy of her past life, for the resentment in her heart, and even more sorry for her for having to live cautiously here with a delicate appearance despite being full of cunning and ruthlessness.
Unfortunately, Su Jinyun, the fox who had been eyeing her for a long time, beat her to it.
Her mind is as meticulous as an embroiderer's needle, a hundred times better than a rough person like me.
From the moment she squatted by the wall feeding the raccoon, she handed her a clean, fine cotton handkerchief, with small orchids embroidered on the corner of the handkerchief, the stitches as fine as gossamer, as if afraid her fingertips would get dusty.
From the time she began studying wood carving, she asked someone to bring her the most handy carving knives from Jiangnan. It was a set of seven, including slanted knives, flat knives, and fine-toothed knives, with blades that were so sharp they could cut a hair with a breath.
Her name, "Qian," is engraved on the hilt. It is made of warm jade, which feels just right in the hand, doesn't hurt your hand, and isn't cold in winter.
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