Ah Jing stood behind Yan Xun, her heart almost jumping out of her throat, and said secretly: "Your Majesty, we are on someone else's territory now, can you please say less?"
The battle was still going on fiercely. At midnight, the Quanrong people broke out from the northwest. Zhuge Yue and Yan Xun once again led their troops to chase after them.
After chasing for two hours, Yan Xun was shot in the left shoulder again, and Zhuge Yue was also injured in the shoulder. At this moment, there was a sudden sound of horse hooves from the southwest. Before scouts were sent out to check, the group had already started fighting with the Quanrong people.
After they surrounded them together, the Quanrong people were finally wiped out, and the central army camp was destroyed by the sudden arrival of the group of troops. Zhuge Yue cursed angrily and didn’t care about Yan Xun anymore. He hurried forward to see who this despicable person was who stole his credit. However, he unexpectedly saw a capable female officer standing in front of the battle array counting the spoils. When she saw him, she said calmly, “This is the Khan of the Quanrong. He had committed suicide when I arrived.”
Zhuge Yue was stunned, covered in blood, and looked at his wife awkwardly, asking unnaturally, "Why are you here?"
Chu Qiao raised her eyebrows slightly, looked at him calmly, and said, "Ping An escaped in the middle of the night to tell me the news. How could I not come?"
At this moment, the sound of horse hooves sounded slowly behind him, and Yan Xun's figure gradually walked out of the darkness. His ink-black armor was damaged in many places, and his face was slightly pale, but still straight. He stood beside Zhuge Yue, countless torches lit up around him, but it seemed that they still could not penetrate the darkness around him. He just looked at Chu Qiao calmly, his expression was calm, without any fluctuations, but his eyes were like the sea under the night sky, pitch black, rolling with deep whirlpools.
Compared to Zhuge Yue who was surrounded by a huge army, Yan Xun, who only brought 3,000 elite soldiers, suffered much more serious injuries. At this moment, he had many wounds of varying sizes on his body, with a broken arrow stuck in his shoulder, bleeding profusely, but he seemed not to feel it.
A noisy sound filled their ears, including the soldiers' cursing and scolding, the groaning of the wounded, the crackling of burning torches, and the shouting of the north wind, but they seemed to hear nothing. Their deep gazes met each other, like a flame burning in the dark night, which lit up like a star and gradually spread like wildfire. “Xing’er,” Zhuge Yue suddenly said in a deep voice, jumping off his horse and saying calmly, “I’ll go check on the casualties first. The Emperor of Yan is injured, you find someone to take care of him.”
After saying this, he turned and left, leaving his wife and this unpredictable man standing on the dark snowy field.
For a long time, Chu Qiao didn't know what to say. This was the first time she and Yan Xun met since the battle at Huoleiyuan ten years ago. It is not separated by a fighting army with mountains of swords and seas of fire, nor by a densely packed camp with huge crowds of people, nor by a mighty river, but face to face, eye to eye, as long as you look up, you can see each other's eyebrows and eyes, and even hear the heart beating under the chest.
For a moment, thousands of mountains and rivers rushed through my mind, and all words seemed pale and shallow at this moment. The desolation of everything and people having changed spread like a fire, making this pair of people who should have been the most familiar with each other now feel so unfamiliar as if they had never known each other before. It turns out that the passage of time is really the cruelest word in the world.
Yan Xun sat on the horse, looking down at her, his eyes like a calm sea. Many people were walking around, the bright red torches flickering, making their faces flicker.
It’s still those eyebrows, still those eyes, still that face that is so familiar, but that person is no longer the one who promised to be by my side forever.
Can you feel the sadness at that moment?
Maybe, maybe not, language has already seemed weak and powerless at this point. Just like the fiery red leaves, no matter how gorgeous they are, they cannot avoid the fate of withering. The sky is black, the earth is white, it is still this sky, this land, and this place they have dreamed of thousands of times, but why is it so difficult to even say a word?
Yan Xun looked at Chu Qiao. A raging fire was burning behind her. She looked like a god of light, with a warmth that he could never reach in his entire life. Suddenly, he recalled that snowy night many years ago. In that dark cell, they struggled to stretch out their hands through the crack in the wall and held each other tightly.
Perhaps, they are like two seeds, who can hug each other tightly in the snow and ice, snuggle up to each other for warmth, and wait for the arrival of spring. However, when spring really came, after they supported each other and broke out of the ground, they found that the nutrients in the soil were far from enough for the two of them to survive together. So, they finally drifted apart and went their separate ways.
Yan Xun suddenly felt tired, and his heart was as desolate as the snow on the Goddess Peak. Over the years, no matter when or under what difficult circumstances, he has never been as tired as he is now. He said to himself, I should go. So he really turned around, slowly rode his horse, and was about to leave.
However, at this moment, a very warm voice suddenly called out from behind: "Yan Xun!"
Yes, it is warmth, a feeling that has disappeared for many, many years. It is like a boiling hot spring. When you put your frozen hands into it, it is so warm that it makes you shiver.
"Yan Xun," she called persistently from behind him, "Cheng Yuan and his men are right behind me. They should be here soon."
Yan Xun didn't nod or say anything, he just held the reins and stood there quietly.
"You're injured, take care of it first, okay?"
She walked slowly from behind, passed by him, and came to him, then reached out her hand, took his reins, and asked stubbornly: "Okay?"
Yan Xun suddenly felt a little bitter, as if from childhood to adulthood, she had always been the braver one. Several medical officers ran up with medicine boxes on their backs and stood behind her with their heads lowered.
He dismounted without saying a word and allowed those people to treat his wounds, apply medicine and bandages on him. Even when the arrow was pulled out, he didn't even make a sound. After working for about half an hour, the medical officers retreated with sweat on their foreheads, but she came over and handed him the broken arrow covered in blood.
At that moment, Yan Xun's heart suddenly ached, and his brows knitted tightly together. In the end, he still did not reach out to take it, and said calmly: "The enemy is dead, there is no need to keep it."
Yes, none of the Quanrong people escaped, even the Khan died, so what enemies would they have?
This has been his habit for many years. He would keep any weapon that had hurt him until he had taken revenge, and then he would destroy the weapon.
It turns out that I haven’t completely forgotten. Even if you have deliberately stopped thinking about them, some things and some years still pass through your life and leave deep marks.
I don’t know how long I stood there. The wind blew over from afar, bringing with it the unique smell of the Yanbei Plateau.
Yan Xun quietly raised his head and looked at Chu Qiao who was standing in front of him. They were so close that it seemed as if he could touch her with just a slight stretch of his hand. But even with such a short distance, he never had the chance to cross it again. He can make everyone in the world crawl at his feet, his blade can conquer every inch of land that does not submit to him, and as long as he wants, he can do his best to destroy everything he doesn't like. But facing her alone, he was powerless.
There is an emotion called self-mockery that gradually arises from the bottom of my heart.
Yan Xun raised the corners of his mouth, wanting to smile, but only a cold arc came out.
He suddenly turned his back, and his back was like a towering pine tree, tall and proud, yet strong enough to seem to hold up the heaven and earth. He walked away step by step, his steps were heavy, but he walked faster and faster.
"Yan Xun, take care of yourself!" Someone called out from behind. Who was speaking? Who is she calling again?
Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun...
In a trance, it seemed like it was that night many years ago again, when Wei Jing cut off his little finger. She cried in sadness and suppression in the night, calling his name over and over again.
Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun...
But eventually, no one called him like that anymore. He was Your Majesty, the Emperor, the Son of Heaven, I, and I. He was the monarch of this world, but he had lost his name.
Yan Xun, Yan Xun, are you still there? Are you okay? You have gained everything, but you have lost something. Are you really happy?
I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Life is not just about being happy. There are some things that may not make you happy if you do them, but if you don’t do them, you will definitely not be happy. At least, I got what I wanted, didn't I?
He walked faster and faster, his steps firm, his back straight, his hands strong, holding the reins tightly, and just jumped up.
He didn't want to say anything, didn't want to see anything, the iron-like defense line in his heart was torn apart by someone, he wanted to leave! immediately! must! immediately!
An overwhelming amount of memories came roaring back, and those things that had been buried in the dust for many, many years were like rotten dead trees, struggling to climb up into his heart. He wants to suppress it, he wants to get rid of it, he wants to throw away everything that disgusts him!
Weakness, sadness, regret, hesitation...
All of this should not exist on him!
However, when everything was gone, two words spread so clearly in his heart, his lungs, his throat, and the corners of his mouth. The two words struck his vocal cords and were about to jump out several times. He frowned tightly and clenched his teeth, like a bloodthirsty wolf, with his eyes glowing red.
But despite this, the voice still rampaged in my chest over and over again, and all the echoes gradually merged into those two words.
A-Chu, A-Chu, A-Chu, A-Chu, A-Chu!
No one can understand, no one can know, only him, only him, only him.
He breathed deeply and slowly, as if swallowing it bit by bit.
Okay, it’s all over. Don’t think about it anymore, don’t look at it anymore, don’t linger on it anymore.
Go away, leave, it's over. Everything will disappear with your determination; all memories will turn to ashes with the passage of time; all the past will be forgotten by you and become meaningless dust.
Okay, it’s okay. I am the emperor of Dayan, I am their king, I own vast territories, and I have everything I wanted.
The horse's hooves made crisp clattering sounds on the cold snow field, and tiny icicles splashed and disappeared bit by bit into the vast night along with the distant figures. There was light and shadow in the air ahead, a golden battle flag was flying high, and a pitch-black eagle was flapping its wings ferociously on the flag. That was his army, his men, and his world. It is more like a golden chain that firmly imprisons him, his heart, and everything he has to that supreme position, leaving no room for any hesitation or wavering.
After all, he was the emperor of Dayan. In this country built with conscience, blood and bones, he had no right to turn back.
So, he really walked on with his back straight, never looking back, his steps were firm and his eyes were sharp as knives, just like him, always as strong and brave as steel, and would not be defeated by any hardship.
At that moment, Chu Qiao stood in the snow, looking at Yan Xun's back, and suddenly seemed to understand something. There were thousands of torches, thousands of subordinates, and thousands of followers crawling on the ground around him, but for some reason, when she looked at him, she felt that his figure was so lonely.
Maybe, she really couldn't understand it before.
The kind of hatred that hurts deep in the bone, the kind of shame that makes one fall from heaven to hell, the kind of pain that has been gnawing at one's heart and lungs for the past eight years. Even though she had always been by his side, she could not bear his pain and hatred. Now thinking back, didn't she have her own reasons for why two people who had supported each other all the way and vowed to stay together forever had ended up like this?
She once said, don't hide, don't lie, be honest and never doubt.
But did she really do it? No, her tolerance, her indulgence, her retreat, and her indifference ultimately made him go further and further down this path. Saying that character determines everything, that he is like this because of fate, isn't this a way of excusing yourself? To be fair, when he was slowly changing and moving further and further away, did she try her best to stop him? Have you tried your best to save it? Have you ever formally protested to him and expressed your dissatisfaction?
She didn't. She only blamed him when everything had become a foregone conclusion, but she didn't make any substantial efforts before that.
She came from another world, so she took for granted some of the ideas she identified with and advocated, naively thinking that others would think the same way. However, they do not know that some things are like rivers. If they are not dredged and maintained regularly, there will come a day when they will be blocked and burst.
After all, they are too young. At that time, they had only a vague understanding of love, and didn't know how to express their feelings or how to maintain this love. Just stubbornly and simply believe that something is good for the other person, and do it without saying a word. But they don’t understand that difficulties, poverty, despair and hatred are not the fatal blows to love. The real killer that destroys love is that two people have forgotten how to communicate.