It was almost dawn, but it was also the darkest time of the day.

Ruoxin looked up at the night sky, the sky seemed to be shrouded in a boundless black curtain, the thick clouds blocked the faint starlight, and the lantern in her hand could only illuminate a distance of about a zhang around her body.

The clear dew on the blades of grass reflects in the light of the lanterns. Stepping on the grass, the ground was wet and muddy, and it was clear that there had been a lot of rain before.

The embankment where the painting boat is located is located on the outskirts of Wanchun County, which is the source of the Qinghe River that runs through the county.

Ruoxin walked slowly forward with a red gauze lantern, her dress dragging through the low grass, making a rustling sound. After walking for a while, the dew soaked her dress, and the rain on the mud slowly seeped into her boots. The cool breeze gusted, and I felt that this road seemed to be impossible to walk. This is about thirty or forty miles away from Baijia Village, and there is no means of transportation, so she is afraid that she will have to walk for two hours, and the physical condition at the moment is really worse.

There are many convex stone pits on the mountain road, which is very easy to stumble, and it is even more difficult to travel at night. Ruoxin paid attention to the path under her feet and walked slowly, except for the sound of her breathing and footsteps on the road, there was silence all around. I don't know how long I walked, but I faintly heard the faint sound of music in my ears.

Stop, Ruoxin listened attentively, it was indeed the sound of the stringed piano, in such a remote suburb, the soft sound of the piano came with the wind, it seemed empty and far away.

After thinking for a moment, Ruoxin slowly followed the sound of the piano, turning at the fork in the road ahead to the source of the sound of the piano.

With martial arts, people have a little more courage, although it seems weird to hear the sound of the piano in the mountains and fields of the dark night, but for Ruoxin now, it is what she hopes to have a place to rest.

As the distance closes, the sound becomes clearer.

The sound of string music is very beautiful and pleasant, but the slow rhyme seems to have a deep sadness and love, the first time I heard it melodious and gentle, and then I smelled it, but it was depressed and frustrated, if it was not for the people who had really experienced all kinds of ups and downs in the journey of life, they could not interpret such a deep emotion. It can be inferred from this that the person who stroked the qin was at least a certain age.

Through the faint light source of the lantern, she found an abandoned temple at the end of the bushes, the old plaque slanted to one side, and the two stone lions at the door, although they had been blown by the wind and rain, still stood tall and majestic. The door of the temple was open, and there was a faint light jumping inside, and the door was dimly lit and dark, and the melodious sound of the piano came from the temple.

Stepping on the bluestone steps, Ruoxin lifted her skirt and walked up the steps, and when she arrived at the gate of the temple, she realized that her previous inference was wrong.

A fire rose in the center of the abandoned temple, and a boy of twelve or thirteen years old occasionally roasted firewood that had been damp by the rain, occasionally breaking dry branches at his feet and throwing them into the fire, making a crackling and burning sound.

Not far from him, sitting cross-legged was the man who played the harp.

The man was dressed in a soft white shirt with a loose coat and a loose tie that was only loosely tied. The masculinity is elegant, the expression is tranquil and clear, in such a dilapidated temple, it does not look embarrassed, but like a noble son who is resting on the bank of the Qinghu River.

His appearance was clearly seen in the jumping firelight, he was a handsome and elegant man, not as old as Ruoxin thought, but very young, but twenty-six or seventeen. The beautiful and inky black long eyebrows, the half-constricted clear eyes make his eyelashes look extraordinarily long, reflected in a circle of fan-shaped shadows under the eyes, the straight nose bridge, the thin lips, and the beautiful facial features flow with night-like tranquility and sorrow.

Ruoxin leaned against the slightly old vermilion lacquer door and quietly stared at the man playing the qin.

The man was playing with the strings intently, not noticing her, the long black hair behind him, fluttering in the wind incessantly, elegant and beautiful, like a clean pear blossom under the moon, but on that young face, a pair of eyes were full of vicissitudes that did not match his age.

The slow string sound, with scattered sadness, the melody is light but rhymes with thousands of emotions, as if it can also involve the deepest emotions in people's hearts.

After a while, the man raised his head, only to find a person leaning against the open door, with a slightly surprised expression on his pale handsome face.

At the same time, Ruoxin met his dark eyes, I don't know if it was the illusion of firelight, the man's pupils were not very black, but a dark gray that was almost black.

Ruoxin stared at him, staring intently, looking at this face she was not familiar with, but there was a sense of familiarity in her heart. The moment she met the man's eyes, she only felt a sore pain in her chest, as if it was expanding and spreading at this moment.

Without any warning, a period of life with the master since she was seven years old, those chaotic images suddenly came to her mind at this moment, and scenes were reflected in her mind like shadow puppets.

It seems to be vague and yet profound.

For the first time, Master's warm and slender hands gently touched her forehead, and the light sentence "You have a fever" made her rely on her wholeheartedly from then on. I remember that Master gently and carefully wiped the mud off her face, and stepped into the hot spring to ward off the cold for her. In her memory, the warm and steaming hot spring water was far less warm than the warmth brought to her by Master's broad and warm chest.

For the first time, Master gently hugged her, who was a little overwhelmed in a strange place, and gently imprinted a soothing kiss on her forehead.

For the first time, Master taught her to write the first strokes and the first word on the white rice paper, and the delicate and clear handwriting profoundly reflected the gentleness and doting of the Master's palm.

All the beautiful and nostalgic firsts were remembered in her heart at this moment, but she was also overwhelmed.

Her body trembled slightly, the lantern in her hand fell to the ground, and at the moment when her feet went soft, a pair of thin hands gently supported her arms.

But at some point, the man had already gotten up and walked in front of her.

Looking at the clear eyes that are close at hand, the face reflected in his eyes, the kind of emotion that seems to be engraved in his heart.

Ruoxin couldn't speak, she raised her head, watched the man look at her with a little concern, let go of the hand that was holding her, and gently stroked her forehead. A slightly cool sensation spread from his palm to her hot body, and she only heard the man say softly, "You have a fever." ”

Unable to hide the shock and complexity on her face, Ruoxin was in a state of confusion for a while, and she reached out to hold the man's arm tightly.

Open your mouth and spit out a sentence, "Master......"