Out of the St. Gallen City Gate, twenty miles to the west, horses, vehicles, pedestrians come and go, endless streams, forming a mighty and long dragon. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Among them, there are not only dignitaries and dignitaries lying in a splendid carriage and surrounded by bodyguards, but also low-level civilians who are plainly dressed and drag their families.

Their destination, Brunhill Manor, is a leisurely countryside with white walls and green tiles.

Near the manor, several parallel horse roads are wide and flat, and behind the wooden fences on both sides, the snakes and flones, corn fields, and a few acres of green and tender wheat grow gratifyingly.

As soon as the breeze blows, the smell of moist earth mixed with the fragrance of crops pours into the nostrils.

People can't help but be physically and mentally TEDA.

The estate's world-famous white grapes have just been planted and are still half a year away from ripening.

Rodin held a silver knight's sword in his arms, laughing, closing his eyes, leaning beside the coachman in a trance, his body tossing and turning with the carriage, and his mouth was still chewing a weed, so leisurely that he did not have the consciousness of a bodyguard.

Only occasionally opened the single eye, shooting a ray of vigilance.

The journey was uneventful, and I don't know how long it took.

The carriage slowed quietly, and the gate of the manor came into view of him, as a stream of people poured out on both sides of the road.

A small number of people were clamoring and shouting, fighting for a seat without an owner.

Because the vast majority of vacant land has been carved up by small traders and poor people, it has been transformed into zero-hour stalls, and they have begun to shout and sell all kinds of vegetables, fruits and snacks.

Influential forces blatantly set up gambling games, distributed leaflets, and gathered popularity before the horse race began.

The bustle is not inferior to the St. Gallen trade fair.

Of course, the wealthy and noble people did not bother to compete with the commoners for this one-third of an acre, and they held beautifully designed silver-plated invitations, and under the respectful gaze of the guards, Shi Shiran entered the gate of the manor.

There is no doubt that Dale is a figure of status, and as his bodyguard, Rodin entered the Brunhill Manor unimpeded.

Walking up the stairs, you can see clusters of beautifully repaired green vegetation everywhere, and there are also flower beds dotted around, planted with magnolias, rhododendrons, peonies......

It is the spring when all things are restored, and the flowers are blooming,

It is purple and red, exuding a rich fragrance.

Before them, Brunhill Manor had already welcomed quite a few guests.

After ascending the steps, a group of immature aristocratic girls appeared in Rodin's vision, stopping in front of the flower bed to admire, looking intoxicated.

But Dale didn't have the slightest nostalgia.

After greeting everyone casually, she turned straight into a tall green wall in the opposite direction of the meeting room.

Rodin did not dare to slack off and followed.

Walking through a labyrinthine road, there is the sound of gurgling water.

But a delicate little bridge takes a different path, where no one is there and quietly passes through the clear pond to an elegant pavilion in the middle of the pond.

In the gazebo, the two stood side by side, and the breeze blew through a pool of spring water, alarming the swimming fish.

A few purple hairs mischievously pressed against Rodin's face.

"Alas, it's obviously a bodyguard, do I have to waste time with her on a tour of the mountains and rivers?"

"Look!" said Dale with a sudden smile and pointed to the other side of the pond with a girlish look.

"What's there to see?" Rodin muttered nonchalantly, and the next second he was lost.

On the other side of the green space, a lone cherry blossom swayed in the breeze, and pieces of pink petals fluttered like catkins, swirling between the branches, mid-air, and the ground, creating a fairytale-like dream.

Rodin involuntarily took out his wonderful sunglasses from his bosom and put them on, and then showed a silly smile.

Daile didn't notice his weirdness, her eyes were misty, and her red lips opened slightly, "This cherry blossom completely covers the brilliance of the other flowers in the flower bed, and it can be called gorgeous...... Do you think so?"

"Hmm-"

It's a pity that no matter how beautiful she is, there will be a moment of withering. ”

"Of course," Rodin said without thinking, ...... "everything in heaven and earth must obey the law of nature's rise and fall, and there is no flower that blooms forever." ”

Daile lay on the railing, intentionally or unintentionally revealing the hot curves of her hips and waist, and looked at the clear water waves, and asked quietly, "So, is it the same for people?"

"As the years go by, beauty will gradually be lost, but temperament and cultivation can accumulate and precipitate. ”

"But......" the woman's charming eyes lit up, "youth is eternal and existent!"

"Perhaps!" he replied casually, not taking it to heart.

In this world of extraordinary power, anything is possible.

"By the way, Miss Dale's age?"

"Giggles, age is a woman's secret, now, I won't tell you. ”

"You mean, you'll tell me when the time comes?"

"Hmm...... In these two days, you will understand by then. If you want to know in advance, you are welcome to come to me anytime and anywhere for in-depth communication, and you can do it now. ”

She turned to Rodin on her back, her hips leaning against the railing, the abundant capital on her chest trembling under the thin garment, exuding infinite charm.

"Miss Dale, it's time to go back, the opening ceremony is almost over. ”

For Rodin's direct disregard, the woman couldn't help but have a grudge in her eyes and had no choice but to leave.

Brunhill Manor, the main parlor, the entire upper echelons of St. Gallen are all in one place.

Standing at the front of the hall, a middle-aged man in a black gown with a white grape medal on his chest, was Dar Brunhill, the owner of the manor.

Although he is actually over eighty years old, he looks only about forty years old, with tough facial features and a tall figure, full of the charm of a mature man.

"It is a great honour that the five-year St. Gallen Horse Race continues to be held at Brünnhill Manor, thanks to the trust of the Lord and all of you. ”

"First of all, welcome all of you who have worked tirelessly to come from afar, especially His Majesty Prince Anderson!"

The man suddenly stroked his left shoulder with his right hand, raised his left hand back, bent his right knee slightly, and made the most solemn Sith salute to the guests around him.

Everyone looked at the young man respectfully, and Rodin couldn't help but be curious.

He has a beard as vigorous as a lion's mane, and a mysterious purple tattoo on his neck is faintly visible, but it is hidden by the placket of the meal, and it is difficult to get a glimpse of his appearance.

He is tall, thick-eyed, big-eyed, and has a deep bearing. From the perspective of Rodin's power, it is unfathomable and difficult to fathom.

At this moment, the prince smiled kindly, and kept greeting everyone below.

"Good morning, all of you in St. Gallen. On behalf of the Sith royal family, the king will oversee the contest and present honors to the winners. ”

The atmosphere in the audience was instantly warm!

The nobles blushed one by one, looking extremely excited, after all, not everyone in the royal family is qualified to meet them.

Da Brunhill took over,

"With your participation, I believe that this conference will come to a perfect conclusion. In the name of the Dabur family, I promise that I will never disappoint your high expectations, and will do my best to carry out this conference, so that your distinguished guests will return with great pleasure. ”

"This morning will be spent preparing the contestants, so you may want to take advantage of this time to taste the aged wines in the cellar. ”

As soon as the word "aging" came out, someone below immediately shouted, "But Brunhill is more than three years old?"

Directly named after the estate, the preciousness of this dry white wine speaks for itself.

Da Wenyan smiled heartily, "The contemptible people will definitely treat your distinguished guests with the highest quality wine, although Brunhill is a royal tribute and cannot be taken out, but today with Prince Andre's approval, you are blessed." ”