The rain in early autumn is getting heavier and heavier, and it falls on the ground and makes a splash, wetting the clothes on the body, and falling on the heart is extremely cold. The square in front of the palace was all shrouded in smoke and rain, and the field of vision was a world.

Everyone's eyes looked at the small wooden platform in the autumn rain, looking at the two people on the stage, there was a deathly silence all around, I don't know what kind of love was infected and controlled, no one spoke, no one moved, just looked like this, eyes through the heavy rain and fog, condensed on the stage.

Hundreds of forbidden troops, masters of the inner court, and those ascetics of the Qing Temple were so nervous and solemn that they were drenched in the rain, like stiff wooden people.

In just a moment, several people had already died in the hands of Lord Xiao Fan, and the most important thing was that the rain was falling so coldly, and they didn't know what kind of love was shining in the eyes of the Ninety-Five Supreme at the head of the palace city.

Yan Bingyun had already reacted from the shock when he first saw Fan Xian's figure before, lowered his head, and began to prepare for what might happen next, and ordered the most loyal subordinates around him in a very low voice, these voices were covered up in the rain, and no one heard them, but several secret agents of the Supervision Yuan wearing ordinary clothes had already begun to squeeze in the crowd in the direction of the law field.

In the palace city, the officials and the people were all stunned by the scene where Fan Xian's horse's hooves trampled on blood, drew his sword in the rain, and undressed and covered the old man's body. And the first person to react was He Zongwei, who had the highest status in the palace at this time and was in charge of the prison.

When Fan Xian rode into the sea of people, he had already reacted, and with the fastest speed and the most inconspicuous movement, he quietly left the range of the small wooden platform, and hid his figure behind the officials and guards. Through many masters, his eyes looked through those wet shoulder hats, looking at Fan Xian on the small wooden platform lonely and miserable holding Chen Pingping's thin body, He Zongwei's eyes flashed a trace of complicated feelings, he just didn't want to die, but he had to let the old and young on the wooden platform die.

There are still many people who don't want to die, and at this time, Fan Xian on the wooden platform has a trace of palpitating chill all over his body, which makes the cold autumn rain between heaven and earth unable to suppress it, and all the people subconsciously leave the wooden platform. Eunuch Yao had already retired to the team, and he didn't want to be the next straw dog used by the little grandfather to sacrifice Chen Pingping.

There were several corpses scattered around the wooden platform, and the blood was quickly diluted by the autumn rain, and the executioner of the criminal department, who was trembling all over his body and holding a sharp knife, became the closest person under the wooden steps. He looked at Lord Xiao Fan on the stage, and found that Lord Xiao Fan lowered his head deeply, holding Old Dean Chen tightly in his arms, as if he couldn't perceive any other sounds in heaven and earth, full of horror, and quietly retreated towards the wooden platform.

After only two steps back, the executioner's throat snapped, his head fell into the rain, and the headless body fell from the stage with a thud.

Everyone around was startled, looking at the stage, only those who had cultivated extremely high could notice that Fan Xian's hand moved slightly at the previous moment, and a black dagger flew out, and then fell in the rain.

............ Fan Xian sat cross-legged on the wooden platform, sitting in the eyes of everyone, but he didn't seem to feel any gaze at all, he just hugged Chen Pingping's body, buried his head very low, and let the rain spill from his head, his back was slight, and he looked extremely depressed.

The weight of the old man's body in his arms is very light, and holding it in his arms is like holding a ball of wind, which may disperse at any time. Under the slightly messy hair, Fan Xian's pale face twitched slightly, and subconsciously reached out and held Chen Pingping's cold and old hand, holding it tightly, refusing to let go.

The old man didn't know how much suffering he had experienced in this life, he had been disabled for half his life, and the qi and blood in his body had long been exhausted, and now when he was Ling Chi, every time he went down, in addition to the pain, there was not too much blood bursting out, but the torture of so many knives still made the blood and water unstoppable in one place, wetting the black sè supervision court official uniform that Fan Xian covered on him, some sticky, some hot, and some hot.

In the autumn rain, Fan Xian gently hugged his thin body, for fear of making him hurt again, and held his cold hand tightly, for fear that he would let him go like this.

"If you don't want to come back, who can let you come back? What are you dragging me to Dongyi City for?" Fan Xian whispered in a hoarse voice, his dry lips were white from the rain, and he looked very pitiful, "I've worked hard for whom and who I've been busy all these years, don't I just want you old guys to leave Kyoto and live a good life, I've been working hard to ......"

"You know I know everything. Fan Xian's head lowered, gently leaning against the old man's wrinkled cheeks, and his body shook gently in the rain, as if he was coaxing the old man in his arms to sleep.

The hand suddenly tightened, and the old man's hand clenched Fan Xian's hand hard, but all his life force was no longer even a hand at this time, I don't know if he was reluctant to give up something, or what he was afraid of, in this wind and rain, in the blood and water all over the ground, what he wanted to hold.

Like a knife slowly tearing his heart, Fan Xian looked at the old man in his arms with cold and fear, knowing that the other party could no longer hold it, he subconsciously clenched that hand, and even his fingers began to turn white and began to ache faintly.

Chen Pingping's cloudy and scattered eyes slowly moved in the rain, and he saw the familiar palace, the sky covered with rain clouds, and the vague figure of the emperor at the head of the palace, but he couldn't see the person's face clearly, and then he saw Fan Xian's face beside him. A smile flashed in the old man's cloudy but clear eyes.

The old man knew that he was leaving the world where he had lived all his life, his eyes gradually dimmed, and he could not hear any sound between heaven and earth clearly, and the light in front of him gradually became some strange shapes.

At this moment, perhaps his legendary life flashed in front of his eyes like a slide, the little eunuch, the East China Sea, the woman, the Inspectorate, the black horseman, another woman, the dead man, yīn conspiracy, revenge, all kinds of pictures flashed in front of his eyes, forming a white line that people dare not look at directly, but no one knows what he saw before he died, what he wanted to see the most.

Is it the dirt splashed during the fight in King Cheng's mansion? Is it a plum blossom blooming in the winter rì of the Taiping Courtyard? Is it the shallow pond and small fish swimming freely in the backyard of the Fangzheng Yīn Forest Building of the Supervision Yuan? Is it a touch of palace shirt in the northern mountains? Or is it the little boy in the city of Lanzhou who has pinned all his emotions and hopes on the rest of his life?

In the sound of wind and rain, Chen Pingping suddenly heard some voices again, it was singing, it was a graceful and familiar singing, it was the singing that he had listened to countless times in Chen Yuan. Those concubines are all beautiful, those songs are beautiful, the old man has been up and down in the dark in this life, but he has the most gentle desire to collect beauty and love beauty. If tragedy is to ruin the beauty of the world to others, then Chen Pingping is only destroying what he thinks is ugly and dirty in this life, devoting himself to ugliness and dirty, and then looking at something beautiful from afar.

"Who will be happy if they hear the sound of the rain?" I will be happy when I climb mountain after mountain, and there will be happy singing in the rain, and when I hear the song, my mood will be happy......

This is a song that the women in Chen Yuan used to like very much, and it sounded in Chen Pingping's ears again in the wind and rain, he opened his eyes with difficulty, looked at these people in this day and place, and listened to this graceful voice, his bloodless lips moved slightly, as if he was singing along, but he did not sing a voice.

Chen Pingping suddenly looked at Fan Xian and asked, "...... the box?"

Fan Xian smiled extremely ugly, and said in the old man's ear: "It's a gun, a firearm that can kill people from a long distance." ”

This is probably Chen Pingping's last question in this life, so he asked it at the last moment. Hearing Fan Xian's answer, the old man's eyes lit up slightly, as if he didn't expect this answer, some surprise, and some relief, his throat hissed, he gasped rapidly, and a trace of coldness and arrogance appeared on his face and said:

"This ...... Thing...... I...... There are also. ”

Fan Xian didn't say anything, just sat in the autumn rain, hugged him gently, shook his head gently, and felt that the old body in his arms was getting softer and softer, but the old palm held tightly in his palm was getting colder and colder, until the end, there was no longer any temperature.

Chen Pingping died, in the autumn rain in the arms of the little boy he cherished the most, he knew the truth of the box before he died, and his face still had a look of arrogance and invincibility.

Fan Xian hugged his gradually cold body, lowered his head and whispered a few words against the old man's cold face, and suddenly felt that the wind and rain in the sky were like knives, cutting his body, making himself extremely painful and unbearable, this pain burst out from his heart, moving towards every inch of skin, like Ling Chi, and finally exploded.

On the small wooden platform in the autumn rain, a loud cry suddenly broke out, crying heartbreaking, crying tearing liver and lungs, crying sadness and pressure the autumn rain did not dare to fall, crying 10,000 people could not bear to listen...... In the twenty years since he was reborn, Fan Xian has never cried, and even when his eyes were moist a few times, he was also forcefully pressed down. No one in this world has ever seen him cry, and no one has ever seen him cry so thoroughly, so sadly, and thousands of emotions are vented out of this cry.

Tears couldn't blur his face, but they only washed away all the dust that remained on his face, the dust that the autumn rain couldn't wash.

Just as the autumn rain could not be stopped, tears could not be stopped, and in this way, with endless sorrow poured out of his eyes.

............ The mournful roar on the small wooden platform of the Dharma field penetrated the autumn wind and autumn rain, spread to every corner of the palace, and pierced into everyone's ears, I don't know how many people's hearts suddenly mourned and chilled.

However, this sound fell on the ears of some people, but it gave rise to a strong fear, and in addition to this, it was a clear signal.

Old Dean Chen finally died.

I don't know if anyone will secretly rejoice or breathe a sigh of relief because of this fact, but none of the officials in the wind and rain showed any emotion on their faces, and sorrow may have flashed in some eyes, but more of them maintained solemnity and slight nervousness, and there was a faint sense of sadness in their hearts.

One of the pillars of the Daqing Dynasty was broken in this way, and those civil officials who had been suppressed by the Dark Supervision Yuan for decades were a little relieved, and the civil officials who were like water and fire in the court dispute suddenly felt a chill in their hearts. They seemed to find it difficult to accept this fact for a while, because in their eyes, this terrifying figure covered in black fog seemed to be impossible to die.

Countless people have thought of countless pictures because of Chen Pingping's death, about the pictures in the wind and rain of Qingguo in the past few decades, no one dares to deny that Chen Pingping has established the achievements of Qingguo for the country, in this long scroll of history, those thick black ink balls used to light up the Qing Dynasty are this person and the supervision institute created by this person.

When Fan Xian's cry pierced through the wind and rain and arrived at the head of the palace high above, no one noticed that the Emperor of Qingguo, who was dressed in a dragon robe and had an imposing imperial spirit, had an extremely subtle movement, and his whole body moved forward slightly, about the distance of two fingers, and after a while, His Majesty the Emperor straightened his waist strongly, and kept the distance between his ruthless face and the bloody and bloody law field in the rain to the initial distance.

Surely no one noticed that His Majesty the Emperor's hands hidden in the sleeves of the dragon robe were slowly clenched.

At this moment, watching the old friend who had followed him for decades, the old servant die, the old guy who watched himself die from an inconspicuous son to the most dazzling powerhouse in the whole world, so resolutely and decisively, what did the emperor think in his heart? What did he feel? Is it a kind of emptiness from the deepest depths, or is it an anger that even he himself can't explain, and he doesn't know where it comes from?

Yan Bingyun under the head of the palace city lowered his head deeply, lower than all the officials beside him, his body was in the direction of the law field, through the rain curtain, he could also see Lord Xiao Fan holding the body of the old dean indifferently, his body trembled slightly, thinking of what the old dean had said to himself in the square building of the Supervision Yuan I don't know how long ago.

One day, I am going to die, and Fan Xian will go crazy.................. Yan Bingyun Huo Ran raised his head, took a deep breath, wiped the rain from his face, and continued to secretly issue orders to all parties, those secret agents hidden in the crowd watching the execution, may strike at any time, compressing the madness that may happen next to a minimum range. Of course, Yan Bingyun prefers that this qiē will not happen.

—————————————————— person died, although Ling Chi's punishment was not completed completely, and the executioner was cut in half by Fan Xianhan's resentment, there was naturally no need to continue. The autumn rain was still falling so sadly, but no one left the square in front of the palace, and everyone seemed to know what might happen next.

The ascetics surrounding the temple slowly approached the small wooden platform, their hats covering the rain from the sky and the expressions on their faces. Fan Xian didn't seem to sense the danger under the stage, but he was a little ignorant and sat on the wooden platform, he was still holding Chen Pingping's body and didn't put it down.

The tears have been mixed with the rain, and gradually stopped, Fan Xian suddenly stood up, but his body was a little shaky, it seems that the thousands of miles of galloping for several nights have made him consume to the extreme, and now the anger and sadness that pierced his heart made his heart a little exhausted.

However, the figure in the rain on the wooden platform shook for a while, but the people around the wooden platform were shocked, and they subconsciously stepped back half a position.

Fan Xian indifferently hugged Chen Pingping's body and walked under the wooden platform, without looking at these people, as if these people just didn't exist.

And these people surrounded the wooden platform, waiting for the order of the Ninety-Five Supreme on the palace.

............ His Majesty the Emperor looked at this scene under the imperial city with a pale face, and his deep eyes flashed extremely complicated feelings, starting from the hanging temple incident, his appreciation of Fan Xian was based on the foundation that this son was a person who valued love and righteousness, although today he didn't expect Fan Xian to be able to rush back, but seeing this scene, he didn't feel strange.

Even our Emperor Xià is not worried, in his heart, he thinks that An Zhi is a poor child who has been blinded by Chen Pingping, the old black dog, probably An Zhi still does not know how much Chen Pingping wants to kill him, wants to kill all my sons, and wants me to cut off my children and grandchildren...... But when he looked at Fan Xian's figure, the emperor couldn't help but feel a little sad and angry, sad at what Fan Xian had expressed, angry at Chen Pingping, an old dog, even if he died, he still easily took away the heart of his most beloved son.

Just like the woman who has been dead for many years.

The emperor was silent for a long time, and the injuries that he had been forcibly suppressing were gradually cracked due to the agitation of his heart, and blood seeped from his chest and abdomen to the dragon robe outside, which was extremely thrilling.

He flicked his sleeves and left the palace with an indifferent face.

Under the palace, Fan Xian held Chen Pingping's body, left the small wooden platform soaked with rain and blood, and walked in the direction of the west of the square, walking extremely slowly and heavily, until this time, he did not glance at the head of the palace.

His Majesty had already left, and there was no one in this world who dared to stop in front of Fan Xian, and all the people subconsciously made way of a road, and the crowd was like the sea being cut by a sword, and the waves gradually rose, separating a road where the reef could be seen.

In the rain, Fan Xian left with Chen Pingping in his arms.