The fire burned fiercely, as red as boiling blood. The sharp arrow escaped from the golden crossbow and hit the heart of the sun. The cries of the gods came from the sky, blood turned into rain, the earth broke, the mountains collapsed, the sea rolled, and the towering ice peaks were pulled up. The world is a huge furnace, cooking the blood and tears of all people.
In the endless darkness, his eyeballs were moving rapidly. The blood-red light covered his heart. He saw the pitch-black armor, Shark Green's sword, the full moon in the dark night, and the vast snowfield. The fighting crowd fell like waves of wheat, flesh and blood piled up, covering the sky and the ground. Hawks and vultures swooped down, the phosphorescence of rotten flesh flashing on their claws. A strong wind blew up in the wilderness, and the sound of fighting was overwhelming all around. The wind blew on the face, carrying the dry smell of sand, and was as sharp as a knife.
The drums of war beat more and more urgently, the enemy army came in overwhelming numbers, the earth shook, the horses galloped, and dark clouds pressed overhead like ferocious dragons.
"kill--"
“Kill, kill—”
“Kill, kill, kill—”
His eyes suddenly opened, and all the illusions disappeared at once. He was lying alone on a dragon bed that was bigger than an ordinary person's bedroom. A golden dragon was embroidered on the dark black satin, with its ferocious head and horns raised so ostentatiously. The golden silk threads can shine sharply even in such a dark room.
He didn't move or speak. The hair on his temples was slightly damp, but he didn't use his hands to wipe away the sweat that was slowly flowing down his neck.
The night was so quiet, there was no talking, no footsteps, no cicadas chirping, and even no sound of the wind. Only his breathing was so slow and heavy, one breath after another.
No matter how long the night is, it will eventually pass.
He has always been a patient person, he was, he is, and he will be in the future.
A faint red light suddenly flashed on the window, drawing his attention there. He frowned slightly, and then he heard the hurried footsteps of eunuchs outside the hall.
"What's going on outside?" His throat was a little dry, but his voice was still as calm as usual.
"Reporting to your majesty, there is a fire in Changle Palace. The Water Dragon Bureau has entered the palace and is putting out the fire."
The eunuch's voice was still shrill, and on a night like this, it was so feminine that it sent chills down one's spine.
He looked at the shadows of the trees outside the window and sat quietly on the bed for a long time. Suddenly, he got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom barefoot. More than a dozen palace maids who were on night watch ran up in panic, put a bright yellow nightgown on him, and put on dragon boots for him. He walked straight out of the hall and strode towards Changle Palace. The chief eunuch hastily called for a large number of guards to accompany him, and the palace maids followed behind him, carrying lanterns. They formed a long, winding line and marched towards Changle Palace in a mighty procession.
"Beat him! Beat him to death!" Before they even got close to Changle Palace, the eunuch's voice came from afar.
He walked over calmly and saw through a winding canal that under the moon gate of the corridor, several palace maids were surrounding a few young children. The children were pressed against the railings, and the eunuchs were raising their boards and hitting them hard. Their pants had been torn, with blood and flesh sticking to their buttocks. At first they could still scream a few times, but later they couldn't even scream.
"I set the fire! Kill me if you dare!" A thin child suddenly shouted. She had been beaten beyond recognition, but her little face was still looking up stubbornly. She said in a cold voice, "I only regret that I can't burn you Yanbei dogs to death!"
These were the children left over from the previous dynasty. After Yan Bei’s army rushed into Zhenhuang, all the Da Xia nobles who did not have time to escape were brutally massacred. Only these young children managed to survive the warriors' wolf knives. After all, at that time, they were just a group of five or six-year-old children. Even the most ruthless soldiers would feel lenient after killing eight or ten of them. However, who could have thought that these children who could not even remember what happened back then would do such crazy things today?
Changle Palace is the palace of the newly promoted Jade Concubine. He flipped over Jade Concubine's name card tonight, but did not go there because he felt tired.
Hatred is indeed the hardest thing in the world. Even if a steel knife is devoured by fire or an iceberg melts under the scorching sun, hatred cannot be wiped out.
"Your Majesty." The chief eunuch knelt on the ground, his back trembling. He didn't know why he was so scared. He just felt the chill creeping up from the soles of his feet, and the trembling spread to his whole body, and he couldn't stop it.
"Go back to the palace." The brocade with a black background and a golden dragon swept across the branches beside him. He came with a large number of troops, took a look, and then turned and left.
The night was still pitch black, like the tip of a pen dipped in ink. His figure disappeared in the black corridor, appearing and disappearing. The cold wind blew past, raising fine dust on the ground. No sound could be heard, only the child's weak screams and curses echoed in the air.
"I want revenge for my mother!"
"Damn Yanbei dog!"
"You will die a miserable death!"
"Our king will come back! You will regret this!"
…
The night was long, the armor in the armory was stained with a layer of frost, blood flowed like a river under the moon gate, and the child's body was dragged out of the palace gate and thrown into a mass grave, to be devoured by wild dogs.
There are too few legends in this world. Most people who are unwilling to give in have died in the abyss of hatred. Those who can endure humiliation and climb out may not necessarily be truly happy.
But being alive is better than being dead.
He sat quietly in front of the window, wearing a white jade ring on his broken finger. Because his finger was so small, there were big gaps in some places. The ring was already broken into pieces, and the inside was stitched together with gold thread. It was so tattered that no one would pick it up even if it was thrown on the street.
He rubbed the worn ring with his fingers. The calluses on his fingertips were hard, and when they touched the white jade ring, they made very light sounds. He lowered his head and looked at the faint pattern on the ring. Vaguely, the long sword in his heart seemed to be unsheathed again, flashing bloody and hideous. In the bright white sword light, a face that was very familiar to him was reflected.
"Regret it?" He sneered silently.
He does not allow himself to have the emotions that ordinary people should have, such as vulnerability, fear, dread, or, as the child said, regret.
Because those things had no effect other than making him feel sick.
The great cause has been accomplished, the blood revenge has been avenged, and he got what he sought.
Do you regret it?
He closed his eyes. A ray of light appeared from the distant horizon and shone through the window onto his angular face. The entire palace is made of ebony and obsidian, and at this time when the sun is rising, it has a suffocating and depressing beauty.
He has the military blood of the Yanbei land flowing in his veins, and his bones are filled with years of suppressed depression. In his dreams, there are rivers flooding and soldiers breaking through the Zhenhuang Mountain Palace. How could he regret this?
He raised his eyes and saw the vastness of the sky and the birds circling. It was no longer the palm-sized piece it was in his childhood. It was so small that even the moon did not dare to stay there.
regret? He sneered.
On March 16, the governor of Dongye County sent an urgent report that a group of rebels had been captured, one of whom seemed to be of high status.
The Ministry of Justice immediately ordered that the man be brought to the capital.
Half a month later, the man was finally tied up and brought before his eyes. His thin eyebrows, phoenix eyes, high nose and thin lips could not conceal his handsomeness and extraordinaryness even in such a miserable state.
Yan Xun sat on the throne, looking at this former favored son of heaven, and did not speak for a long time. Instead, he raised his bloodstained face and looked at him with a faint smile, greeting him casually as if he were an old friend: "Prince Yan, long time no see."
Yan...Prince...it's a title I haven't heard for a long time. He nodded calmly and said, "Young Master Mu."
"It's been so long since I last saw you. Prince Yan is even more charming than before."
"Really?" Yan Xun said calmly, "The young master is a little different."
Mu Yun smiled and said, "Things change over time, and flowers do not last forever. The world is full of changes, and that is normal."
"The young master is quite open-minded. He is indeed a hero."
Mu Yun suddenly laughed and shook his head, saying, "The hero died a long time ago, and those who survived are just people who compromised and lived in disgrace. Thank you, my Lord, you will soon end this embarrassing situation for me."
"It seems that the young master can't wait any longer."
Mu Yun looked like he had met a bosom friend, bowed his head and said, "I hope the prince will help me."
Yan Xun's gaze suddenly became somewhat sharp, with the sharpness that came from being in the military for many years, like a murderous arrow, which was enough to penetrate eighteen layers of cowhide with just one strike. However, in this man's eyes, he saw nothing.
Swords can conquer the world but can never conquer people's hearts. In this ugly and dirty land, there are still some stubborn souls surviving.
He waved his hand casually, "Then I won't send you off."
Mu Yun smiled carefreely, his sleeves fluttering. Even though he was covered in scars, he still had the aura of a royal noble.
"Your Highness has a lot to do, please stay."
The sunlight shines through the window lattices, casting circles of light.
The dislike when they were young and hot-tempered, the open and secret struggles in the martial arts hall, and the struggle for interests when they grew up. After all, in the end, he was still standing here, watching the man of noble birth and always with a proud face, walk step by step to the guillotine.
His chin was slightly raised, and a small breeze blew past his ears. For a long, long time, he didn't want to speak. There was a kind of weariness that pierced his heart without him noticing. Even though he was so far away, he seemed to hear the sound of the guillotine breaking through the wind and chopping down on the Jiuyou Stage. The proud head fell into the dust, the crawling body could no longer stand upright, and the stubborn and fearless eyes would eventually close forever.
dignity? pride? Royal family? Bloodline? stubborn? belief?
What's the importance of everything?
How can those who have never hit rock bottom, who have never climbed out of a situation where they wanted to die, understand what is most important?
Everything is based on survival. If a person dies, there is nothing left. Being alive is the most important thing.
He slowly opened his eyes and saw civil and military officials kneeling in front of him. The dead silent hall was chilly and the air pressure was so low it was almost suffocating. He could clearly see that some people were trembling slightly. They were all afraid of him, and perhaps even hated him, but so what? After all, he is the king of this land, and they all need to submit to him. That's enough, that's enough.