In the suburbs of Beijing at the beginning of April, a vibrant late spring scene, not far from Puji Temple, on the Luoyan Mountain, the forest is flourishing, and the birds jump from one branch to another, calling happily.

Behind a hidden big bluestone side in the middle of the mountain, there is a middle-aged man standing straight, wearing an indigo muslin robe of almost the same color as the bluestone, a middle-aged attendant respectfully stands beside him, no one can be seen around, a gust of wind blows, some of the soft green grass is lying in the wind, some are motionless, and there is a faint cold light flickering in the immovable place.

In the direction of Puji Temple at the foot of the mountain, there were a few cars surrounded by dark blue silk scarves, which looked inconspicuous at first glance, but were extremely luxurious, and the cars were scattered around thirty or forty sturdy servants on horseback, and the whole convoy was relaxed and comfortable, and it would not take long to reach the foot of the mountain.

When the convoy all entered the foot of the mountain, dozens of elite men dressed in black and wrapped their heads and faces in black cloth suddenly rushed out from the bushes on both sides of the road.

The middle-aged man halfway up the mountain looked indifferently at the river of blood flowing at the foot of the mountain.

The man in black standing in a pool of blood made a gesture, the grass and trees parted deep in the bushes under the mountain, and a middle-aged man in brocade clothes strode out, and the middle-aged man halfway up the mountain shrank his eyes slightly, raised his hand and waved it.

From the middle of the mountain to more than a foot away from the foot of the mountain, hundreds of dead soldiers with sharp blades rushed down the hillside like a gale, and the black-clothed people under the mountain killed in one place, this fight except for the impact of the sword, there was no half sound, but it was extremely thrilling, but a cup of tea, the dead soldiers who were ambushed on the hillside killed the black-clothed people and the middle-aged people in brocade, and began to carry the corpses silently.

The middle-aged man halfway up the mountain breathed a sigh of relief, stomped his feet, and asked lightly as he turned around and walked up the mountain, "Whose convoy is it?" ”

"Li Zhongxian, the son of Yongguo, and his wife Yan, Yan is the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Ningyuan, I heard that I just got a daughter, and I went to Puji Temple to make incense and make a vow." The middle-aged attendant's voice was soft, like a female voice.

"Daughter?"

"Yes, it's just a full moon, and it's called Li Tian."

"Oh." The middle-aged man answered dryly and walked up the mountain without looking back.

……

The Yongguo Mansion was submerged in a white expanse, and Li Zhongxian, the son of the Yongguo Gong, who had been famous since he was a child, was the first in the examination at the age of twelve, and had a handsome character like a poplar under the moon, and his wife Yan, who was both talented and beautiful, and had a rich dowry that made people jealous, both died.

Yan's mother, Mrs. Lin of Ningyuan Houfu, helped the girl, got out of the car with difficulty, shook off the girl's hand and stopped, took two deep breaths, and went into the backyard steadily.

In the upper room of the main courtyard, Li Zhongxian's mother, Mrs. Ning, was lying on her back on the kang and looking directly at the top of the tent.

Mrs. Lin supported the edge of the kang with one hand, sat down sideways with difficulty, reached out and patted Mrs. Ning and said, "Sister, get up!" Get up! Aren't you cheapening others by doing this to yourself?!"

Mrs. Ning slowly sat up, and looked at Mrs. Lin with dry eyes: "...... Don't worry, I will avenge the enmity between Xian'er and Wan'er! I have to let them look at it, you take Tian Tian back, Sister Wan'er's dowry is also brought back, and the things that Xian'er has used are all kept by Tian Tian, Tian Tian will be handed over to you, and I will have no worries. ”

……

In the Qingtong Courtyard in the corner of the back garden of the Yongguo Mansion, the eldest son Li Zhongchao knelt in front of his father's bed and kowtowed like pounding garlic: "Father, father, please, please, save Aunt Shen, please save her, she is the son's biological mother, father, please, son, please!"

On the bed, Yong Guogong looked at the roof with blank eyes, as if he didn't hear his son's plea...... Xian'er! My good son! A sharp stabbing pain pierced out of Yong Guogong's heart, as if he was being tortured by a thousand knives, the son he regarded as life and loved to the extreme, the son who was amazing and brilliant, and made him extremely proud, tears kept pouring out from the corners of his eyes, he thought he was numb, why was it still so painful......

Yong Guogong slowly turned his head and looked at the eldest son who was covered with blood on his face, Li Zhongchao hurriedly took two steps on his knees, and shouted eagerly: "Father!"

"You are the son of the world, in the future, the Yongguo Mansion will be yours......" Yongguo Gong said dryly, Li Zhongchao looked at his father in amazement, Yongguo Gong looked up at the roof again, tears kept flowing......

Li Zhongchao knelt in front of the bed in a daze, the blood on his face flowed down his cheeks, dripping on the ground, I don't know how long it took, Li Zhongchao got up with difficulty and shook out like a paper man.