Chapter 218: I Miss You Again

"What are you talking about, Brother Liu naturally understands in his heart, why pretend, Dalong prides himself on being a gentleman, can't he dare to admit it?" Wan Yang was still a little unwilling, and began to use the radical method.

This trick may have some effect on others, the ultimate reputation of the ancients, there are often people who sacrifice their lives for righteousness, such as Qin Bin, who almost killed himself.

If you lose your virtue in order to protect the country's prestige, you can only have peace of mind when you die.

It's just that Liu Dashao is such an outlier, he has experienced so many ups and downs in later generations, and the small promotion method of reputation is not worth mentioning at all in Liu Mingzhi's opinion.

You say whatever you say, I live and I live myself.

"What Brother Wan said Liu still doesn't understand that the chess duel is a game between Brother Qin and your brother Wan, all of us are watching from the sidelines, Liu has no fingers and no words to help, Brother Wan don't slander Liu's character."

"You ......"

"If you guess out of thin air and assert whether a person misbehaves, Liu is going to say, Brother Wan of Wan'an Ping is pressing the black chess step by step, Liu said that Brother Wan, you secretly manipulated what you think in your heart."

On quibbling Wan Yang is not Liu Mingzhi's opponent at all, and Wan Yang really has no evidence, otherwise he would not be here to do these verbal disputes with Liu Mingzhi.

"People are doing it, the sky is watching, Brother Liu, don't go astray."

"Alas, good people don't live long, disasters will last for thousands of years, Liu's safety doesn't have to worry about Brother Wan, just take care of yourself."

Wan Yang snorted coldly, waved his sleeves, sat on the ground and stopped talking.

Liu Mingzhi smiled lightly and motioned to the errand officer on the side: "There is Brother Lao." ”

"In the second game of the Eight Great Elegant Things Competition, Liu Mingzhi, the son of the Great Dragon, won."

This time it is not a chess duel, after the announcement of the errand officer, Jin Guoshizi each high-fived each other, this victory is above board and exciting.

On the high platform, Qi Run and Zhao Fengshou also chuckled, winning two games in a row greatly boosted morale, and the face of the Jin State Mission was not so good-looking.

Wen Renzheng sighed softly, and looked sideways at the roof of the Tribute Courtyard, revealing a slight curiosity.

Song Zhong, the coffin bearer, looked at the cheering crowd on the Gongyuan site with a lonely expression and caressed the coffin on the side: "Do you know how envious I am for others?" ”

The breeze came, and the coffin on the roof disappeared without a trace, and the official guarding the door looked at the roof of the gate strangely: "Brother Zhou, I obviously heard a voice from above." ”

"It must be confused, don't guess."

A servant touched his head suspiciously and muttered, "There is obviously the sound of rubble." ”

Outside Jinling City, three thousand miles of warblers sing and swallow dance, three thousand small bridges and flowing water, three thousand miles of flowers are red and willow green, all over the banks of the Qinhuai River.

It is a good scenery of the year, as Liu Dashao said, autumn in Jinling is the most beautiful season, and it is a pity not to come out to see.

Baili Qinhuai River is sparkling under the shroud of the sun, fishing boats shuttle back and forth on the river surface, autumn water falls, after a year of growth, the fish in this period are the fattest.

Bringing in a large amount of salmon from the upper reaches, the fishermen have been preparing for half the season to be the harvest season.

A purple-robed man was carrying a sarcophagus on his shoulder, wandering on the bank of the Qinhuai River as if no one was around, and many people avoided from afar, looking at the sarcophagus on the purple-robed man tabooly.

Song finally carried the sarcophagus and looked at the cruise ship painting boat on the Qinhuai River, the sun was shining, and some of the painting boats were still burning red candles, the clear light was obscure, and from time to time there was a small tune of the woman's lyrical singing.

Farewell singer tears, Kyaukjie and Tilian.

Qinglian turns over the riverbed, and the love is endless.

Unintentionally wandering the mountains, wandering among the rivers.

The moon is full and the sun is absent, and people are gathered and scattered.

Life should go with you, and death is also a dream.

Taking a sip of wine and a poem, Song Zhong looked at the painting boat and smiled quietly. No one could have imagined that the word tranquility would be used on a man carrying a coffin, but Song Zhong smiled really quietly.

The minor tune from the painting boat is catchy, as if it is also infected by the beautiful scenery of the Qinhuai River, the song of resentment, and the hatred of parting are becoming more and more poignant, and the song is scattered between heaven and earth in the wind, and disappears without a trace.

"Good scenery, good singing, good tunes, you can get these two beautiful scenery, and you will be a Jiangnan person in vain."

In such a prosperous area of Jinling, there are also many elderly people in the deep mountains who are inaccessible, and no one has ever set foot in the quiet valley.

On an unnamed mountain, surrounded by the Qinhuai River, you can see the people on both sides of the mountain from the top of the mountain, and the top of the mountain is like a netherworld.

People who have never climbed the top of the mountain never know that there is a deserted small house on the mountain, it is difficult to think of why there is such a small house on the top of such a steep mountain wall, the small house is antique, even if it has been deserted, you can see how pure and pleasant this small house is.

The house is fragrant with flowers, and the arrival of autumn does not seem to have any effect on them, and the brilliance of the bloom is dazzling and eye-catching.

Suddenly, a sarcophagus floated up and landed gently on the top of the silent mountain, raising layers of dust.

The sarcophagus falls to the ground, and the lid slides open automatically.

Colorful, colorful, yes, colorful, a flock of colorful butterflies flew out of the coffin representing death.

It's autumn now, even though it's not very cold in Jiangnan, but it stands to reason that butterflies should also form cocoons for winter, and they will break out of their cocoons into butterflies in April and May of the next year to show their beautiful figures.

As if by nature, butterflies flew out of the coffin and flew straight to the flowers.

Song Zhong's figure floated and landed on the sarcophagus, looking at the butterflies dancing among the flowers, and smiled softly, smiling like a child with satisfaction.

A lonely tomb stands among the hundred flowers, and Song Zhong walked gently to the front with his hands behind his back and entered Beijing to look at an inconspicuous stone tablet: "Song Zhong resisted the coffin, resisted for ten years, carried it for ten years, and suffered for ten years." Butterfly, I miss you again. ”

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