The horses were magnificent, tall and powerful, and the riders on them were even more handsome and dashing.
The speaker was a young man in red, holding a riding whip and with a sword at his waist. He had a charming smile on his face and was turning his head to say, "I think he has some cunning. Your Highness, now is the time for you to train your team. Why don't you take him with you?"
The person he was speaking to was looking at the distant mountains with his hands behind his back.
His black robes were as fierce as ice, and his tall and aloof figure was clearly visible. Half of his handsome face was covered by a black jade mask, making him appear to be just over twenty years old. Yet, his aura was imposing and terrifying, and a sword hung at his waist, its blade clear and sharp, colder than the wind and snow.
He surveyed the snow-covered mountain path, taking in the peaks before speaking slowly and deliberately.
"She's just a twelve or thirteen-year-old child, you actually think she's good enough for you?"
The voice was cold and sharp, slightly hoarse, seven parts elegant and noble, three parts chilling and awe-inspiring, making one think of the fierce wind rolling across the Northwest battlefield and the bloody smell of blood being ground on a blade.
The young man in red was speechless for a moment, then said helplessly, "Your Highness, you are among the last to be granted a title. The talented young men from prominent families in the capital have long been won over by other princes and their sons! If you don't raise a few more from a young age, how will you compete with them?"
"Those? I wouldn't even look at them!" The prince scoffed. "This kid is only slightly cunning; he's not even worth recruiting. Don't bother with him anymore."
He looked up and saw that the snow had completely stopped, and the mountain ridge was shimmering with silver light.
"Go into the village and ask for some hot water. We'll head into the mountains right away. With the snow falling, the hibernating Red Cloud Snakes are moving slowly. Digging out their gallbladders to make medicine will be the most effective."
"yes!"
.
At Xia Chaojin's funeral, Tong Su gave him the most solemn farewell within the limits of what she could do.
It was called a grand funeral, but it was nothing more than spending a few dozen taels of silver to buy a coffin, keeping the body for a few days, and then placing it in the grave.
In most areas, daughters, especially those who are unmarried or not engaged, are not allowed to be buried in the ancestral graveyard. However, Tongsu insisted on this, and since it was a private matter for the Xia family, most of the villagers sympathized with her and did not object much. The coffin was smoothly placed in the grave.
“Mother, we’ve been back in Xiajia Village for almost a month now. Father didn’t leave us much money, so we have to find a way to keep going. We also have the land Father bought back then, but neither of us is good at farming, and we can’t cultivate it…”
Tongsu was a little worried.
She changed her clothes, quickly went outside to fetch a basin of snow, and went into the kitchen to boil water. Now that it was cold, the water tank and the well were frozen, so they had to boil snow to get water.
The Xia family uncles and aunts, having not received any inheritance, held a deep dislike for Tongsu and her mother, taking every opportunity to mock them, let alone offer any assistance.
Xia's mother was weak and could only cry. She wanted to beg them, but Tong Su stopped her.
"Chao and Qingzhai, even if they don't dare to come and steal anything again, the two of us can still make a living. It's snowing now, and putting everything else aside, we need firewood just to heat the kang (a traditional heated bed). How are we going to manage that?"
Tongsu boiled water and said, "Mother, don't worry, I know what to do."
The personal space provided by the system is a full cubic meter in size, but it is empty and contains very few supplies.
But that made it convenient for her to go into the mountains to chop firewood and carry it back.
After breakfast, Xia's mother set up the spinning wheel and began weaving. She was an orphan in a chaotic world and was illiterate. Her only skill was that she could weave cloth well.
The money left by Xia's father was a considerable sum for the villagers, but neither Tongsu nor Xia's mother were the type to live off their inheritance. They were both willing to increase income and reduce expenditure, and neither could afford to be short of money.
Tongsu went to the back of the house, picked up a bamboo basket, put a bundle of rope in it, and took a machete.
Heading into the mountains.
Chopping firewood.
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