“Squeak—”

Lian Shenwei pushed open the door of the Zichen Palace.

There were faint breathing sounds on the dragon couch. Emperor Jingcheng coughed hoarsely a few times when the cool wind blew in from outside. He couldn't get up, and didn't even have the strength to move, but he sighed.

"You're here..."

The soothing aroma of the incense burner curled up, mixing with the smell of medicine that filled the hall, a bright yellow, thick and luxurious scent that filled the room with deep silence.

"Isn't it autumn?"

The black dress stopped, and Lian Shenwei stood in front of the dragon couch. "Yes, it has been autumn for a while."

"I know what you are here for. The Snow Sword is in the grid behind the bookshelf. Push it open and you will see it," Emperor Jingcheng said in a staccato voice. "You have hidden it for so many years. It is time to return something that does not belong to you."

Lian Shenwei did as he said, pushed open the bookshelf, pulled open the grid, and took out the Fuxue Sword.

The sword is completely snow-white, and even the hilt is made of a very special translucent material, as clear as snow, with the words "Fu Xue" engraved on it.

The Fuxue Sword has no scabbard. It is a sword with the scabbard and the blade integrated into one. Just press the mechanism on the left side of the hilt and the blade will immediately be sealed and become a ruler-like shape.

Chi means restraint and measure.

The Snow Sword is also known as the Sword of Mercy.

Lian Shenwei placed his hand on the sword and said calmly, "After Ying Tangfu dies, the person I hate the most besides myself is you."

Ying Tang went to serve the former emperor.

This was the first time he expressed his hatred openly.

He had never let it go for a moment in the past ten years. When he first heard the bad news as a teenager, he became obsessive and crazy. He hated the Falling Moon Stream, and after finding out the truth, he began to hate the court, those high-sounding officials, and those who had received kindness from the Fudu Villa for not lending a hand.

But the person he could least forgive was himself.

Why didn't he go home? Why wasn't he there when the accident happened at the villa? Why did he implicate Qiu Cheng, an innocent man who died for him?

Over the years, he had eliminated his enemies one by one with his own hands. Looking at the despair or anger in their eyes before they died, he watched coldly, and only thought of the night at Fudu Villa, when his relatives died, wondering if they were also so despairing.

Emperor Jingcheng was in a trance for a moment: "I know, I knew it a long time ago."

"My whole life..."

All kinds of past events flashed before my eyes, and what I missed most were the years I spent in Jinling, with pear blossoms wet with rain and fine snow falling.

After being a noble and majestic emperor for ten years, he finally shed tears openly before his death, and the bright yellow pillow was slightly wet.

"I owe so many people in my life..."

The ones who owed the most were Fudu Villa, You Wei, the child he had alienated for ten years, and Lian Shenwei.

The most helpless thing in the world is the coincidence of things. If he was born in an ordinary family, would he still be living a happy and peaceful life now?

"I don't hear Jingjue calling me father anymore," Emperor Jingcheng said, "He has grown up and still blames me."

He glanced at Lian Shenwei with difficulty.

When he met You Wei, her younger brother was only eleven or twelve years old, a young boy. Like You Wei, he treated Lian Shenwei like his own son.

Someone who was once so bright and dazzling.

The faint light from outside shone through the window lattice, a mixture of darkness and dimness. The young man's posture remained the same, but he looked particularly indifferent and pale. In the not-so-cold weather, he was wearing a loose black robe and a thin cloak. Although he still held the sword, there was no trace of him as before.

He seemed to be engulfed by his status as the Regent of the Great Sheng Dynasty.

"Yubai, I'm sorry..."

What should have been a happy and carefree life was completely ruined by three generations of the Ying royal family.

"I don't ask for your forgiveness. After I leave... ahem... there will be no one to protect you in the Dasheng court. You have to be good, Jingjue... if Jingjue makes you angry, just leave, leave here..."

"You've done enough. Your sister loves you so much. After I go down, she will know how hard you work and will blame me even more."

Lian Shenwei was silent for a moment: "The one you protected was never me, but Lian Yubai who died long ago."

He walked to the dragon bed and placed the tip of the Fuxue Sword against Emperor Jingcheng's neck. "You said so much before you die. What do you want to hear from me? Forgive me?"

The cold touch did not make Emperor Jingcheng dodge. Instead, he became somewhat attached to the temperature of the sword.

For a person who is in self-blame and regret every day, if someone is willing to say a word of forgiveness to him, it is equivalent to redemption.

But the only person in the world who is qualified to forgive him, besides Ying Jingjue, is Lian Shenwei.

How could he have dreamed of such a luxury?

Let him always be in remorse.

Could ten years of regret make Youwei soften her heart towards him and be willing to see him in the underworld?

"I have dispersed the secret guards. No one will see it..." The anger in Emperor Jingcheng's eyes gradually faded. "Yubai, I have lived very hard in the last few months."

"Your sister... loved watching the snow, but she died in the summer."

"I try very hard to live till winter...to see the snow...to see the plum blossoms bloom for her once more, and when I leave, I will take a handful of earthly snow with me. Will she still be willing to see me? Will she still forgive me..."

Lian Shenwei looked at him for a long time.

"You could have lived a few more days, but the medicine you drank later had Meng Po powder added to it. That medicine is one of the ingredients of Meng Po soup. It can relieve your pain, but at the same time, it will also eliminate the efficacy of other medicines."

Ying Jingjue went to Feng Ke to ask for medicine. Feng Ke asked him if he wanted to prescribe it for the emperor, so he went with the flow and added Meng Po powder.

He said slowly, "If you live a few more days, you might hear Jingjue call you father, but I don't want you to have that wish."

In fact, Lian Shenwei had no idea that Emperor Jingcheng would suddenly want to hear Ying Jingjue call him daddy. He said this at this moment just for revenge.

These words stung his heart. Emperor Jingcheng was stunned for a moment, smiled bitterly, and took a hard breath for a while.

"Is it dark now? I think I saw your sister..."

"Yubai, can you please perform the Fuxue Sword Technique? Your sister often showed it to me under the plum tree."

"Please, just once..."

Emperor Jingcheng requested in a very humble manner.

Lian Shenwei's expression was terrifyingly indifferent, and he was not moved at all.

Emperor Jingcheng's voice became lower and lower, and his breathing became rapid. He was still on his deathbed, in a daze, with an unclear tone, as he repeated Lian Youwei's name.

He had white hair on his temples, lost his wife, was divorced, and suffered pain all his life.

Before death, there is no end.

The dim skylight was blocked by layers of bed curtains, and pain grew and fermented in the darkness.

He is not the only one who is forever trapped on June 2nd ten years ago.

Hatred and grudges, will they only be truly resolved on the day of death?

Lian Shenwei slowly put down the sword, closed his eyes, his Adam's apple rolled, and his jawline was extremely tense.

He glanced around, and after a moment, walked to the desk in the Zichen Hall where official business was handled.

There was a stack of snow-white rice paper on the table.

He pressed his finger on the hilt of the snow sword, and the blade sharpened instantly. Then he took out a handkerchief and tied his right wrist and the hilt together to ensure that he would not be able to hold the snow sword steadily.

Then he suddenly drew his sword, and the tip of the sword lifted up the rice paper on the table and threw it into the air.

The cold sword energy cut the thin paper into tiny pieces, and it seemed as if it was winter and snowing.

[“The Fuxue Sword Technique that Sister has discovered is light, agile, kind, compassionate, and tolerant.”

The girl in a silk dress turned around with her hands behind her back and looked at her brother with a smile, "Xiao Yubai, brother, you are too strong to use such a light sword."

"When you grow up, you can go to the Sword Mound and ask for your own sword."

Lian Yubai hugged her legs, and said with a little pride: "Sister, genius has no distinction between sword styles. If you teach me, I can learn it. Really, I won't embarrass you if I learn it, and my father will definitely agree."

"Okay, you're a genius, and geniuses don't need anyone to teach them, right?"

Lian Yubai: "Sister, please don't push me. If you push me again, I will act like a spoiled child."

"You can learn if you want," Lian Youwei poked him, "Return the chicken you stole from Erpang's house. It's so small and hasn't grown up yet. If you want to steal it, you have to wait until the chicken grows up... No, if you want to eat it, raise it yourself."

Lian Yubai: "No, no, I can't bear to eat the one I raised. I will be sad if I eat it."

Lian Youwei: "Then he won't be sad if you steal the thing that Erpang raised?"

The young boy was stunned for a moment, then felt guilty.

She touched her brother's head and said, "Don't do to others what you don't want others to do to you."

"...Okay, I get it," Lian Yubai approached again, his eyes burning, "So when will you teach me, sister?"

"Well, maybe this winter when it snows."

"Why?"

"Because when it snows, I, your sister, feel good."]

Through the layers of curtains, Emperor Jingcheng saw the figure holding the sword, hazy and blurred. The fluttering tiny white rice paper turned into flying snow in an instant.

At a glance, he seemed to be back in Jinling, watching the swordsman dancing with swords under the plum blossoms, with his young son lying at his knees, that kind of leisurely and carefree life.

"Youwei, look, it's winter again..."

Hot tears rolled down his eyes. Emperor Jingcheng stretched out his hand tremblingly, but grabbed nothing.

sorry.

sorry……

The light in his eyes slowly extinguished, his hands fell heavily on the bed, and his breath stopped. However, there was an unprecedented relaxation between his brows, and a satisfied arc at the corner of his mouth.

Lian Shenwei thrust out his sword for the last time, his breathing becoming slightly disordered.

Then, he put away his sword and stood.

Although he didn't use any internal energy, his right hand still ached from the force exerted by sword dancing.

The ground was covered with mess and white paper scraps. The only sound in the hall was his breathing. It was extremely quiet.

The last enemy also died, and Lian Shenwei felt empty for a moment.

His journey of revenge was over.

And then? Can he go back to the past?

There's no going back.

After a long while, Lian Shenwei said softly:

"After you go down, if you run into my sister and the others, remember that Lian Yubai is alive and well. After being sad for a while, he avenged the Falling Moon School for them, and is still pursuing the pinnacle of martial arts in the martial arts world."

"He is upright, kind, and righteous. He strictly abides by the family precepts of the Lian family and has not buried the gentlemanly spirit of the generations of Fudu Villa. He fights evil and promotes good in the world, without any restraint, and lives the life they expect..."

If there really is an underworld, people like him will go to hell after death and will never see A Niang and the others.

Lian Shenwei: "If you want to tell me something..."

"I forgive you."

The room was silent.

Bang!

The cold autumn wind blew open the window, the cool air poured in, and the rice paper on the ground was blown up by the wind.

The forgiveness that had not been spoken for ten years was now spoken out so easily, for the sake of the vague ghosts and gods. He and Emperor Jingcheng were so similar that he could say a word of forgiveness to Emperor Jingcheng, but what about him?

Who else can say to him:

I forgive you.

Lian Shenwei held the sword, pushed open the palace door and walked out.

The snow-white rice paper at his feet fluttered out with him. A strong wind blew from somewhere, and the piece of paper flew freely into the gray and gloomy sky, along with the withered yellow leaves.

The autumn wind blew, and the hem of his clothes fluttered. The young man just stared calmly without reaching out to chase.

There was once a man named Xiao and a sword, with a reputation as a madman in the martial arts world. He would lie drunkenly on a building and laugh at the world. In the misty rain, he would wear a straw raincoat and return to his small boat to take a rest.

It's a pity that I wanted to buy some osmanthus flowers to carry with the wine, but it didn't turn out like the time I had as a young man.

Lian Shenwei withdrew his gaze and walked down the stairs step by step.

The author has something to say:

I want to buy osmanthus flowers and carry wine together, but it doesn’t look like the youth’s travel.

Tang Duoling: Reed Leaves Covering the Tingzhou

Song Liu Guo

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