Tang, the ninth year of Wude, the fifth day of the twelfth month.

A man wearing a hat and a black night coat hugged the things in his arms tightly, looked around, the face behind the veil, and looked wary.

His other hand, which clenched the sword, dripped blood. Red, dyed in the white snow, like plum blossoms in the wax moon, blooming with the meaning of ruin.

Although he staggered a little, he carefully held the thing in his arms that was well wrapped in a cloth jacket.

"Don't be afraid. He whispered, looked up at the sky, and saw only swan feathers, dotting the world with white.

It snowed all night and didn't stop until the sun went up.

The snow, a thick layer, he walked on the snow, stepped on it, crunched, the snow melted, seeping into his clothes and shoes. The whole body has long been frozen to the point that there is no feeling, so I can't feel the pain. The cold snowflakes only came for the bones, and the blood flowing from the body was the only source of heat.

"Don't be afraid, it's here. ”

The snow closed the road, and even the most diligent merchant could not stand the freezing three feet, and there was no one on the road. The only thing that destroyed the continuous snow was his footprints.

At first, he could distinguish the footprints he stepped on, but later, because of the weakness of his master, his footsteps became a habit, and the footprints were connected little by little.

His destination was the house not far ahead. It is an elegant and grand mansion, Biwa Zhuyong, Yuyu Qionglou. Looking in from the brick-red wall, you can get a glimpse of the pavilions, rockeries and strange mountains, hidden under the dead branches, beautiful and silent coexist.

A wilt branch came out of the wall, but it rarely brought a touch of red. Under the detailed identification, it was realized that it was originally a red plum blossom. The heavy snow pressed on the branches, and the plum looked better.

He finally walked to the door of the house. Looking up, the word "Shen Fu" is painted on the black plaque with gold characters.

"Knock knock—" He tugged back and forth on the beast's head ring and knocked on the door of the mansion.

There was a noise from the Shen Mansion, and someone was running towards the door.

"Live. He said this, and put the thing he was holding in his arms at the door of the Shen Mansion. Before leaving, he remembered something and rummaged through his chest.

Subsequently, a string of Buddha beads as red as red beans, as transparent as amber, and counting twenty-one Buddha beads, were also placed at the door of the Shen Mansion.

He glanced at the two objects on the ground, sighed, and rushed into the swan feathers. Only the exhaled bursts of heat are accompanied by it.

"Sa-" He ran out into the middle of nowhere, and heard something coming on a dead branch. When I looked closely, there were dozens of people, all armed with weapons.

In a flash of the sword, he has become a dead soul under the knife. His eyes were not blind, but a smile was pulled out of the corners of his mouth.

That end, Shen Mansion.

"Who is it?" A servant in thin gray clothes, shivering from the cold, opened the gate of the Shen Mansion, he poked his head out, looked around, and did not see the two things that were covered by the red pillar.

Just as he was puzzled for a moment and was about to close the door, he heard a voice. It was a baby's cry, and if you didn't listen carefully, you would think it was a spring cat meow.

He stepped out of the door, looked around strangely, and saw no one who had left him here.

The child's face was red from the cold, and although he didn't know what was happening, he seemed to be crying sadly.

The slave was at a loss, but looking at the child's cold red cheeks and small hands, he still couldn't bear to pick up the child and picked up the string of Buddhist beads by the way.

"Sir. The slave carried the child and walked through the winding corridors to find the man who was teasing the child by the lotus pond.

The man was in the prime of life, with eyes as sharp as an eagle and black eyes full of shrewdness. Every one of his facial features is meticulously engraved, and if he doesn't smile, it is extremely oppressive. Just one glance will make people's hearts start.

But the way he half-bent over and holding the girl's little hand was full of tenderness. The coldness in his eyes melted and dripped, turning into soft warmth.

The girl looked like she was two or three years old, and she was still walking unsteadily and staggering. Someone tied two small pieces of red rope on his head, and he was giggling, and the voice was immature and bright, which made people feel good when they heard it.

Her baby fat had not yet faded, and her cheeks were bulging. The skin is as white as snow, as clean as a crystal without impurities. The dark eyes rolled, and they were weird. His lips were red, like rouge. As beautiful as jade, it is no wonder that men regard her as a treasure.

Under the man's traction, the girl took a step-by-step, unsteady step, and always almost fell to the ground, but was held firmly by the man's hand.

"Qingjun, take one more step. The man softened his voice in the face of the girl, and spoiled him to the fullest.

"Sir. When the servant saw that the man ignored him, he cautiously called again.

"What's the matter?" the man stared at his toddler's beloved daughter, straightened up, and his tone was cold.

"Someone left an abandoned baby outside the mansion," he said, holding the baby, took two steps closer, and took out the string of Buddhist beads, "It seems to be a token left by the person who abandoned the baby." ”

The man glanced at it, startled. He took the child from the slave's hand and frowned, only to see that the baby's features were not yet grown, but they were already very beautiful. The tears were not dry, and the lips were pursed. It seems that he is tired of crying and is sleeping.

"Master, how is it good?" the servant asked in a low voice as he looked at the man whose face had changed suddenly.

"Let Zhang's mother take care of it. The man was still staring at the baby in his arms, and he put the beads into the swaddling clothes, and his eyes seemed to be fogged again.

"Isn't that Miss's nurse? Miss can't leave her now!" The slave was surprised that Shen Pingru, who loved his daughter like his life, would make such a decision.

"It's okay, send one more person to Zhang's mother and let her take care of the two children. The man looked at Shen Qingjun and commanded.

"Yes. The servant bent down and was about to leave, when he suddenly heard the voice of Shen Pingru, the master of the Shen family, behind him.

"The Foundling...... Do you see?" he asked softly, his voice a little more flavorful than usual.

The servant could not understand his thoughts, but replied truthfully, "When I go out, there will be no one there." Only the baby was crying, and the string of Buddhist beads was placed beside it. ”

The man did not answer.

The servant bent down and quietly glanced at the Shen family master, only to see his upright back. The silhouette was firm and tall, casting a shadow on the snow.

In the distance, the girl did not notice the sudden change in the atmosphere, and was still stepping on the snow step by step, giggling as before.

"Master," Xu is man behaved very differently than him, the slave knew that he might be punished, but he couldn't help asking, "Who is this child?"

The man was silent for a while, and the servant had already regretted that his legs were weak, but he was not angry, but after a long silence, he said, "Son of the old man." ”

Shen Pingru took Shen Qingjun to play in the courtyard for a lot of time, and the little girl never noticed that her father's face had tightened for three points since then, and she was still very happy.

At noon, Shen Pingru patted her daughter's face lovingly and asked the nurse Zhang's mother to take her to dinner. He looked at the small figure of his beloved daughter in Zhang's mother's arms, and for the first time he frowned.

Shen Qingjun struggled to get out of the arms of the nurse Zhang's mother in the familiar courtyard. She stepped through the door and came to Zhang's mother's bedroom, but strangely found that a baby's cry came from Zhang's mother's bed.

She stood on tiptoe to see a beautiful porcelain doll carved in pink and jade, her lips moving, and she was crying.

Tang, the ninth year of Wude, the fifth day of the twelfth month.

This is Shen Qingjun and his first meeting.

It's a pity that no one will remember this meeting in the future.