In late autumn, the air-dried soil solidifies into patches of dry gray. www.biquge.info In the dead and silent streets and alleys, there are no lights, only a few cuckoos make sad sounds.

What a cold night it was, Fu Yannian galloped in the night, carrying the medicine and a little food that was easy to find in his hand. Holding the horse's legs, in the piercing night wind, the inexplicable fear in his heart, he tried to speed up, as if looking for signs of life.

After passing through the Ten Mile Pavilion, he tied the horse to the tethered stake in the shade. Immediately picked up the half-new and non-old nocturnal Beiming chain mail black cloak on his body, tied it around his waist, and tried to run in the direction of the Iron Furnace Temple.

It's so dark around you, and the autumn night is so cold. He gently bypassed the main entrance, only to knock on the firewood door behind the side of the Iron Furnace Temple.

There was a series of violent coughing sounds inside, and the door lock slowly opened.

A little Taoist priest in a green robe led him into the courtyard and led him straight to the hut where Huang Chun was lying.

The room was narrow and dilapidated, and on a small wooden table in the middle of the room were two small teacups, a white iron kettle, and a few plates about three inches long, on which were placed pickles, ginger, and a little peanuts, and then there were no more. And this idea seems to have never been touched at all.

On the east side of the room, against the wall, beside a clattering broken bed, only a lone lamp danced slowly, and the man who was thin as a handful of bones was covered with firewood and grass over the bottom, and under the quilt covered with blue cloth and wool—

Who would have thought that it was Huang Chun, the first strategist who once commanded the world and made immortal contributions to the new country?

Listening to Huang Chun's deep gasp, as helpless as a lonely lamp in the long night, Fu Yannian's heart ached like ten thousand swords passing through.

He turned around and handed the little Taoist priest a piece of broken silver, handed him the medicine again, and said please.

Xiaodao took it, and without saying much, he went outside to decoct the medicine.

Fu Yannian looked at Huang Chun in a daze, sat lightly on the edge of the bed, held Huang Chun's thin and dry hand, and said with tears in his eyes: "I'm late." You rest assured, you can rest assured ......"

At this point, he was speechless and choked.

A tear splashed on Huang Chun's hand, hot, hot.

Huang Chun's eyes opened, and on the side of his left eye, there was a black circle that had been tortured a few days ago and had been beaten by a copper-headed belt.

He looked at Fu Yannian, his eyes suddenly returned to a glimmer of light, he tried to raise his arm, wanting to wipe the tears on Fu Yannian's face, but he didn't have the strength to raise his hand in the end.

Fu Yannian understood what he meant, and hurriedly wiped away his tears with his sleeve.

He came all the way, originally dusty, and this cry was even more like a cat.

Huang Chun coughed and panted, smiled slowly, and the crow's feet at the end of his eyes told the last warmth in his heart, "Look at you, you are not confused, you are still so childish." When you see me, why do you mourn so much, and mourn so much...... I know... Your heart... Always knew ......"

Fu Yannian suddenly felt that Huang Chun's eyes were still the same as before, so bright, so wise, and so keen.

He tried to hold back his tears, the ninja's sorrow for Huang Chun's infinite grievances, and he prayed to God in his heart.

Huang Chun suddenly smiled slowly, he motioned to Fu Yannian to help him up, put his thin and out of shape, and leaned on Fu Yannian panting.

"I have... A secret, if you don't tell it, I'm afraid you won't have a chance..."Huang Chun smiled bitterly, there was no accusation in the bitterness, just a kind of despair like sinking into the abyss of the cold pool.

"No, no," Fu Yannian finally didn't hold back his spurt emotions, he wanted to tell his grief like a child, and told about his life, as if he was afraid that Huang Chun would disappear immediately if he told the secret.

"Actually, I'm from another world, and you're the first person I met when I came to this world... Now, perhaps, it's you...... Send me back..."

……

Outside the door, Xiao Dao in a green robe and robe sat on the edge of a wooden chair made of wicker and rattan made of gray squirrels, facing the black pot of decoction on the gray and black charcoal fire with blue flames in the stove.

At hand, on the small shabby table made of bamboo, on the small scale of medicinal materials weighed and the side of the scattered medicinal materials in a one-color paper package, there was a bag of gray medicinal powder.

A layer of slag foam floating on the black chisel overflowed, splashing on all sides for a while.

Xiaodao used the copper sieve next to him to carefully filter the slag, and then lifted a crooked-spout copper kettle with boiling water on the wind stove next to him, added some water slightly, and finally added the gray medicine powder tremblingly.

Ringing in his ears was the undeniable command of the man who had threatened him with the lives of his old grandmother and father:

"This thing is called badry grass, add it, it is colorless and tasteless, and it will not die immediately if you take it, but within two or three days, you will die of breathlessness, and no one will doubt it."

He shuddered and brought the medicine through the door.

The two people in the door are talking to each other about the past of half their lives.

The general Fu Yannian, who had a face on the side of the bed, looked at him compassionately, and motioned to him that the medicine should be served to him.

When the little Taoist priest left, Fu Yannian was holding the bowl of medicine, and together with Huang Chun, he recounted the story of this half of his life, and recounted the secret he had already discovered about Huang Chun.

The spoon was raised to Fu Yannian's lips and blew, and the little Taoist's heart rose to his throat.

He shuddered and closed the door.

With a pop, his back suddenly chilled, and the little Taoist priest fell down weakly without a sound.