The Mid-Autumn Festival in the 62nd year of Qingyuan was the coldest one in the Wei Dynasty.

It has been raining since this morning, with dark clouds over the sky. It looks like it will rain all day without stopping.

The peaks of the Lotus Snow Mountain are numerous and varied, competing with each other for beauty. Because it was raining, the fog was everywhere, making it difficult to walk on the mountain road.

The carriage moved slowly along the mountain path.

Even though the mountain road is so difficult to walk, Lianxue Mountain is always bustling because there is a sacred temple on the mountain, named Yuhua. Yuhua Temple is very popular, and it is said that those who worship here can have their wishes come true. This is a bit exaggerated, but Yuhua Temple has existed for a hundred years and is a real ancient temple. The dignitaries of Shuojing are willing to come here to pray and recite scriptures during festivals, hoping that their families will be healthy and happy, and everything will go well.

The carriage curtain was opened, and Bai Rongwei, the eldest young lady of the Xiao family, glanced outside the carriage and said softly, "It's almost there, in less than an incense stick of time, we will reach Yuhua Temple."

"Are you hungry?" Xiao Jing asked softly beside her.

Bai Rong shook his head slightly, looked at the carriage following behind him, and said with some worry: "Huai Jin..."

Xiao Jing sighed softly and said nothing.

Everyone in the Xiao family knew that the second young master Xiao did not like the Mid-Autumn Festival and even hated it.

Xiao Zhongwu died in battle, and the Mid-Autumn Festival was coming soon. If he was still alive, he should have come back to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival with his family. Unfortunately, he died in the Battle of Mingshui before the Mid-Autumn Festival came, and the Xiao family's Mid-Autumn Festival dinner was abruptly stopped halfway through preparation.

There was no continuation.

Since the death of the Xiao family couple, Xiao Jue has not been in Shuojing every Mid-Autumn Festival. This year is the first time he has spent the Mid-Autumn Festival in Shuojing since he took over the Southern Army. The Xiao family also follows the rules of Mrs. Xiao when she was alive, and burns incense and prays for blessings at Yuhua Temple on Lianxue Mountain during the Mid-Autumn Festival.

I just didn't expect the weather to be so bad today. Not only was there no sunshine, but it was also raining non-stop.

Just as Bai Rongwei said, in less than an incense stick of time, they had already seen the gate of Yuhua Temple. A monk was wearing a bamboo hat and sweeping up the fallen leaves on the ground. When he saw the Xiao family's carriage coming, he put down his broom and welcomed them into the temple.

Because it rained today, the mountain road was difficult to travel on. At this time of year in previous years, Yuhua Temple would have been bustling, but today, apart from the Xiao family's carriage, there was only one other carriage parked outside the mountain gate. I don't know which family's lady it was.

Xiao Jue followed them inside.

The sky was dark, and although it was afternoon, it seemed as if it was already evening. A few people followed the monks in the temple to eat vegetarian food, and then went to the Buddhist hall to burn incense and pray for blessings.

Bai Rongwei and Xiao Jing went in first. When it was Xiao Jue's turn, the monk in green held him back and said, "This donor cannot go in."

Bai Rongwei and Xiao Jing in front turned around, and Bai Rongwei asked, "Why? This is my brother. We went up the mountain to pray together."

The monk in green put his hands together, bowed to her, turned to Xiao Jue, lowered his head and said, "Your sins are too great. The Buddhist temple is a quiet place and will not save people with bloody hearts."

Several people were stunned.

The sin of killing is too heavy.

In the Battle of Guocheng and Changgu, 60,000 people were drowned. Wasn't that just too much bloodshed? In these years, countless southern barbarians died at his hands. His heart was indeed stained with blood.

"Master," Bai Rong said anxiously, "Buddha saves all living beings, how can we distinguish between high and low?"

"Although his hands were stained with blood, he also saved many lives." Xiao Jing frowned: "Master, what you said is too one-sided."

The monk in green lowered his eyes and said nothing.

"Please be lenient, Master," Bai Rong begged, "Our Xiao family is willing to add more incense and money, as long as my brother can enter the temple to worship."

"No need." Someone's voice interrupted her.

The young man in brocade robe raised his eyes and his gaze fell on the Buddhist temple. Inside the temple, golden Buddha statues sat cross-legged. There was a ferocious and angry Vajra, and there was also a peaceful Vairocana. From top to bottom, from far to near, they looked down at him with sorrow.

The sound of Sanskrit lingers in the air, the sea of ​​suffering is boundless, and no Buddha can save it.

He should have seen this end.

"He can't save me." Xiao Jue raised the corner of his mouth, "I don't want to turn back either."

It's okay to sink into this state.

He turned and walked out: "I'll wait for you outside."

Hearing the calls of Bai Rongwei and Xiao Jing from behind, he frowned impatiently and turned around, putting everything behind him.

He didn't know that after he left, the monk in blue chanted a Buddhist name and whispered, "It may not be that there is no fate."

…

Because it was raining, the way down the mountain was more slippery than the way up the mountain. The sky was dark, and it might be inappropriate to go down the mountain after praying. Tonight, I could only stay at Yuhua Temple.

Sleeping outside on the night of Mid-Autumn Festival was also a helpless thing. The monk arranged a room for Bai Rongwei and the others and left. Bai Rongwei sighed. On the table was a moon cake specially made in Yuhua Temple. She said to Xiao Jing: "Go and call Huai Jin, and we can just spend the Mid-Autumn Festival banquet here."

Xiao Jing went to the next door and knocked on the door. No one answered for a long time. He pushed the door open and found the room was empty.

Xiao Jue was not in the room.

He looked towards the courtyard of the temple. The rain had washed the stone slabs clean. It was raining. Where had Xiao Jue gone?

There is an old tree in the backyard of Yuhua Temple. It has been here since the temple was built. It is unknown how many hundreds of years old. The old tree is spiritual, with luxuriant branches and leaves. The believers who come to burn incense call it the "immortal tree". The Immortal Tree is hung with red ribbons, some praying for success in the imperial examinations, and some praying for a good harvest. The red lines cover the branches of the tree. When it rains, there is no shelter outside, and the hanging wish strips get wet and stick to the branches, as if covered with a layer of red gauze.

The young man holding the umbrella stopped.

A piece of red cloth with a yellow string tied to it fell to the ground. It was probably because of the heavy rain that the red silk was blown down.

Xiao Jue paused, then bent down and picked up the red silk.

On each red ribbon was written the wish of the person who hung it. He looked down and saw that the one on the left had been soaked by the rain, and the ink was so hazy that the original appearance could not be seen. There was only one piece of paper on the right that was clearly visible, and the handwriting was crooked, as if a three-year-old child had scribbled with a pen, and it read "see".

look?

What are you looking at? Gu Li is a tall man who is very strange. He casually tied the strange red ribbon back to the tree, and deliberately found a place inside the tree with the most lush leaves, so that it would not be easily wetted by the rain.

After doing all this, he raised the umbrella that had been placed aside. The sachet on his waist was exposed by the action just now, and he was stunned.

The sachet was very old, a dark green bag with a black giant python embroidered with gold thread, majestic and agile, exquisite and gorgeous, but perhaps too much time had passed, the stitching had been worn out and blurred, and the giant python pattern was not as vivid as before. The inside was empty, as if there was nothing in it.

His fingertips brushed the sachet and something sank in his eyes.

All the young men in Xianchang Hall knew that Xiao Jue had always carried a sachet with him since he was young. Naughty ones like Lin Shuanghe had always been curious about what treasures were inside the sachet. Later, when they got the chance, they snatched the sachet and opened it, and found that it was actually a bag full of osmanthus candy.

At that time, Mr. Xiao was ridiculed for loving sweets so much that he even brought them with him to school.

Little did he know that this was made for him personally by Mrs. Xiao when she was still alive.

After Mrs. Xiao died, he still carried the sachet with him, but there was no more bulging candy inside. There was only one... stale, blackened, inedible osmanthus candy.

At the age of fifteen, Xiao Jue went down the mountain and entered Xianchang Hall. He had learned everything he needed to learn in his early years in the mountains, so he could remember everything the teacher taught him after just one look. He often slept during class breaks, but he often easily got first place. The teacher liked him, and his classmates envied him. In the eyes of outsiders, he must have accumulated a lot of virtue in his previous life to be able to be born like this in this life.

But Xiao Zhongwu treated him very harshly.

He was born lazy. When he was in the mountains, no one disciplined him except his teacher, and Xiao Zhongwu could not see him. After he came down from the mountains, his classmates often invited him to a cocktail party today or a theater tomorrow. They were all young men of fourteen or fifteen years old, so there was no reason for him not to go. Although most of the time, he just sat there lazily watching, or simply sleeping, but in Xiao Zhongwu's eyes, he felt that this boy was willing to degenerate and idle.

Xiao Zhongwu reprimanded him, applied family law, confiscated his monthly salary, and punished him to copy books and practice martial arts.

He did everything he was told, but as a young man, he was unruly and unruly, so he was not willing to accept the punishment. The more calmly he accepted the punishment, the angrier Xiao Zhongwu became. Later, he had a quarrel with Xiao Zhongwu.

Xiao Jue raised his eyebrows: "I have done everything you asked me to do. Since we are only looking at the results, the results are already there. Father, what are you feeling awkward about?"

The smile on the young man's lips became sarcastic. In an instant, Xiao Zhongwu's hand holding the whip could no longer whip. Xiao Jue chuckled, turned around and left.

That was the last time he saw Xiao Zhongwu alive.

The next day, Xiao Zhongwu led his troops to the Nanman. Not long after, he was killed in a battle at Mingshui, in a horrible way.

When the news came when the coffin was transported back to the capital, Mrs. Xiao was in the kitchen making sweet-scented osmanthus candy for Xiao Jue. When she got the news, the whole plate of sweet-scented osmanthus candy was overturned and fell to the ground, covered with dust.

The confidant who was lucky enough to survive knelt in front of Madam Xiao and cried, "I originally planned to cross Mingshui two days in advance, but Jun said that Fuguan near Mingshui is rich in ironware, and he wanted to make a sword for the Second Young Master. When I was leaving, I argued with the Second Young Master and hurt his feelings. I hope this sword can make the Second Young Master understand my painstaking efforts. I didn't expect... I didn't expect..."

Mrs. Xiao's heart-wrenching cries could be heard throughout the room.

She rushed forward and hit Xiao Jue randomly, crying and cursing: "Why are you angry with him? Why! If you were not angry with him, he would not have stayed in Mingshui for so long, would not have been ambushed, and would not have died!"

He endured this terrible accusation and let the woman's soft fist fall on him without saying a word.

How could it be possible? His father, the tough and stern man who showed no mercy when he whipped his child, how could he die? How could he die when he was cold and heartless and had a sense of justice?

The terrible accusations continue.

"You killed him! You killed your father!"

He couldn't stand it any longer and pushed his mother away: "I didn't! It wasn't me!"

The woman was pushed away by him and looked at him blankly. Unable to bear her desperate look, Xiao Jue turned around and ran out.

He didn't know where he should go, nor did he know who to talk to. It had only been a year since he came down the mountain and returned to Shuojing. In a year, he hadn't even gotten to know everyone in the Xiao Mansion, and hadn't even learned how to get along with his relatives naturally.

That's it... already.

People don't shed tears when they are in extreme pain. He didn't feel any pain at the moment, he was just confused. It was like hearing a joke that couldn't be true, and he didn't know how to react. He just felt his steps were heavy, and he didn't dare to move forward, unable to face his mother's desperate and sad eyes.

Many years later, Xiao Jue kept thinking, if he had not been so timid at that time, and had taken a step forward and went back into the house, would all the things that happened later have not happened.

But there are no ifs.

When he returned, it was already evening. Xiao Jing and Bai Rongwei had already returned, their eyes were red and swollen, as if they had been crying. Xiao Jing, who was always gentle and polite, rushed up and punched him, grabbed his collar, and yelled at him with red eyes: "Where have you been? Why weren't you at home? Why weren't you with your mother!"

He suddenly felt disgusted and self-mocking, and curled his lips: "You and I are both sons, why don't you ask yourself instead of asking me?"

"you!"

"Huai Jin," Bai Rong sobbed, "Mother is gone."

His smile froze.

"Mother...is gone." Xiao Jing let go of her hand, took two steps back, covered his face and sobbed.

Throughout her life, Mrs. Xiao was as delicate as a flower that had never experienced wind and rain. When Xiao Zhongwu was alive, she was dissatisfied with him in many ways, and they quarreled every now and then, like a pair of resentful lovers. When Xiao Zhongwu died, this flower withered suddenly, and died with him because it had no nutrients left.

She left so decisively that she didn't even think about what would happen to her two sons who stayed in Shuojing in the future? What would happen to the Xiao family? Her life had no meaning the moment she lost Xiao Zhongwu, so she used a piece of clean white silk to end her life.

The last words she said to Xiao Jue before she died were: You killed him, you killed your father!

This sentence would become an eternal nightmare for Xiao Jue in the following years, often waking him up in the middle of the night and causing him to toss and turn in bed.

He could never get rid of it.

Xiao Zhongwu and Mrs. Xiao were buried together. A few days ago, in preparation for the Mid-Autumn Festival banquet, all the lanterns and canvases were taken down and replaced with snow-white lanterns.

When the wall falls, everyone pushes it. Xiao Zhongwu's death has brought more than just a blow to the Xiao family. Xiao Jing has suffered many open and secret attacks in the court, and Xiao Jue has to bear the same burden behind the scenes. What about the Nanfu soldiers, what about the Xiao family, and what about the unwarranted blame for the Mingshui battle.

He still didn't shed a tear, he just worked woodenly, making intensive arrangements. His sleep time became shorter and shorter, and he returned home later and later.

It was late that night when Xiao Jue returned to the mansion. After Xiao Zhongwu's death, many of the servants in the mansion were dismissed. Except for his personal guards, he did not need servants. When he felt hungry, he realized that he had not eaten anything all day.

It was too late, so there was no need to bother Bai Rongwei. Xiao Jue went to the kitchen to see if there was any leftover food from the day.

The stove was cold and there was no food in the kitchen. Everyone was very busy these days and had no appetite for food. He found two steamed buns and a bowl of pickled vegetables.

The light was so dim that it seemed to be going out. There was no stool in the kitchen. The boy was very tired, so he just found a corner against the wall and sat down. He picked up the bowl and suddenly caught a glimpse of a piece of osmanthus candy lying at the end of the long table, at the corner of the wall.

When the tragic news of Xiao Zhongwu's death in battle came, Mrs. Xiao was making sweet-scented osmanthus candy for Xiao Jue. Upon hearing the news, the whole plate of sweet-scented osmanthus candy was knocked over and later cleaned up by the servant, and all was gone.

But there is a fish that has escaped the net, lying quietly in the corner, covered with dust.

He crawled over, carefully picked up the sweet-scented osmanthus candy, and brushed off the dust on it. The candy was faintly scented with the sweet-scented osmanthus, as sweet as ever.

Mrs. Xiao always made the osmanthus candy very sweet, so sweet that it was choking, but he didn't like sweet things to begin with.

But this was the last candy he got in the world.

There was still some candy wrapper left in the sachet, so he wrapped the candy and put it back into the sachet. He picked up the bowl and took the steamed bun.

The second son of the Xiao family had always been a man of wealth and cleanliness, but now he was too polite to sit on the floor to eat. He had not changed his clothes for two days and had not eaten a single grain of rice. He no longer looked as handsome as he used to be in his brocade clothes and fox fur coat.

The young man sat against the wall with his head tilted back, biting his steamed bun slowly. As he ate, he smiled at himself. In his long, autumn-watery eyes, there seemed to be a bright light, like the afterglow of stars in the long night.

Disappeared quickly.

…

Time flies, leaving no trace. The past seems to be a memory of the past life. Those complicated emotions are intertwined, and finally become a nonchalant smile on the lips.

It's not an insurmountable hurdle.

He stared at the sachet in his hand in a daze, not knowing what he was thinking. After a moment, he let go and continued walking forward.

"Young Master." Fei Nu came from behind. He took the umbrella, held it for Xiao Jue, and asked, "Do you want to go back to the temple now?"

"Let's take a walk." Xiao Jue said, "Get some fresh air."

The last ray of light faded away, and Lotus Snow Mountain fell into complete darkness. Thick fog filled the air, like a fantasy in the mountains. On a night like this, almost no one would leave.

The rain fell along the umbrella's brim, not heavy but dense, like a layer of cold gauze that wrapped the mountains.

"I wonder when this rain will stop." Fei Nu murmured.

Mid-Autumn nights are usually clear, but a night like this is rare. Xiao Jue looked up, and the night was so dark that he could not see the end.

He said, "There is no moon tonight."

Without the moon, people cannot see the roundness.

The forest road was muddy and muddy, and nothing could be heard except the sound of rain. The further we walked to the edge, the denser the trees became, and we couldn't see people's shadows clearly. Suddenly, there was a rustling sound in front of us. Fei Nu paused and reminded, "Master."

Xiao Jue shook his head to indicate that he heard it.

Who would be here at this late hour and it's raining?

Fei Nu leaned forward with the lantern in his hand. It was raining heavily, and there was a figure standing under the tree. At first, he could only see a vague shadow, probably a woman, who was doing something. He walked two steps forward and looked again, and saw the woman standing on a stone, pulling a long thing with both hands and pulling it down.

Tied to the tree was a piece of white silk.

This is a woman seeking death.