His axe didn't go down, and I didn't spill blood on the spot. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

This was the first time I had seen Luan Jin, a tall young man with a delicate face, sword eyebrows, and a sword at his waist.

He ordered someone to untie me, respectfully addressed me as sir, and then invited me to the sedan chair.

I heard a lot of minions under the sedan singing a little bit that I had never heard before, giggling and sending me into the mountains.

It was a cottage made of pine wood, and for some time after that, people here called me sir.

I stood on the granite at the top of the cottage, looking at the north every day, watching the rising sun slowly rise, watching the sunset quietly disperse, watching the starry sky colorful, watching the bright moon cloudy and sunny, and countless memories in my heart.

Luan Jin asked me if I wanted to leave here. I said that it was imminent to go to Beijing to take the exam, my time was short, and I had to do my best to fulfill my father's wish.

Luan Jin told me to wait three more days, and he would definitely be able to send me out of the village.

Whenever I think back to some days when I sang with Luan Jin over wine, he danced the sword under the moon, I recited poems, and I was already the person who knew him the most in this cottage of flowers and wine, I couldn't help but cry.

I will never forget the night when the fire was soaring to the sky, shouting and killing the earth, the people and horses of the government washed the entire cottage in blood, until the day I was the champion of high school, I didn't know that Luan Jin was the internal response of the government, and he was hit by several arrows, and the eyes that fell in the pool of blood became an eternal sting in my heart, those arrows should have been shot at my body, it was Luan Jin who stepped forward and let me escape.

I hung the sword he had left for me in the middle of the house, and every time I touched the blood he left on the hilt, I remembered the blazing night.

In the winter of my high school year, I was still doing the same thing as in the cottage, writing letters with the woman named Fenglan.

It was the woman that the cottage king loved, but she still didn't know that the person she was writing to was a copycat king, and she didn't know that all the letters she received were written by me.

The king of the cottage is a coarse and delicate person, his mind has nothing to do with his rough appearance, his name is Zhang Meng.

He is the one who changed my fate, whether intentionally or unintentionally, when the wheel of fate looks down on everything, no one can stop it, maybe this is fate.

Zhang Meng was born in a martial arts family, his father is a famous local dart master, he is upright, and he is the fifth master of Zhang in the people of the rivers and lakes. But he died unjustly at the hands of corrupt officials, and the young and vigorous Zhang Meng killed the officials in a fit of rage to avenge his father.

That sunset evening, Zhang Meng carried the head of the official, tears rained down in front of his father's grave, the wind blew his bun, the ghost head knife in his hand was inserted in front of the grave, and he held his father's favorite daughter red in his life, but he never had the opportunity to drink with his father in this life.

In front of his father's grave, a jar of wine, a head, and Zhang Meng's distant figure, carrying a ghost-headed knife in the wind, Zhang Meng burst into tears.

He gathered a group of homeless criminals, robbed homes in the mountains, and lived a miserable and helpless life. Once, on a full moon night, he said to me that all this was not what he wanted, all he wanted was to be by his father's side every day, to drink wine as a song, to drink freely, and that it was those corrupt officials who ruined everything for him, and he hated the officials.

The Feng Lan in his eyes is different from other Hongchen women, she has the appearance of a captivating city like a hibiscus out of the water, like the purest lotus flower, blooming in the wind, swaying to make people pity, she always has sadness in her eyes, so that you can desperately want to protect her.

Zhang Meng didn't know much and didn't have any literary talent, so he sent Luan Jin to the bottom of the mountain to ask a knowledgeable gentleman to write about the love that ended before he and Feng Lan began.

I still haven't gone to see this woman who has fallen into the city, even though she mentioned it many times in her letter and wanted to see me, and I still fantasized that one day in the future, Xiao Qi would appear in front of me, continue to write about our front edge, and tell her the story of me and Xiao Nan on the hillside full of small yellow flowers.

I really want to ask Feng Lan, if I die, will you be sad? Will you be sad? What should you do if you can't receive my letter again? But neither I nor Zhang Meng would want Feng Lan to know such a cruel reality.

Like Zhang Meng's soul, I continue to stay in the world of Fenglan, just like those moving melodies, the most beautiful notes fluttering in the air, which makes people feel refreshed but with a faint pain.