On the snow in the plum blossom forest, Shen Yuetong lay quietly.

She was long gone, but her eyes were still wide open, her watery eyes full of hatred, quietly looking up at the snowy sky.

Tiny snowflakes fell softly into those beautiful eyes, as if God was taking pity on this girl and making her look a little calmer before she died.

The north wind gradually strengthened, and a boy in a green brocade robe stumbled over.

There was still a red flower on his bun, and his cheeks were red because of the wine, which was a bit ridiculous.

It is the prince of Dingxi Houfu, Hua Yang.

He ran to Shen Yuetong's side, hugged her to his knees, and shook her gently: "Yuetong, Yuetong?!" ”

Blood flowed down the corners of Shen Yuetong's lips, and she had no breath at all.

Hua Yang couldn't help choking: "Enter the palace well, aren't you a mother, why did it become like this!" ”

Warm tears fell on that dirty face, obviously a drunken gentleman, but now he sat in the snow, crying, like a child who had been robbed of candy.

A guard came over and said coldly: "The queen mother ordered that this corpse should be dragged outside the palace and disposed of." Hua Shizi, please get out of the way! ”

Hua Yang took out a purse from his sleeve pocket, stuffed it into the guard, wiped his tears and said, "She is my cousin, can you give me this corpse?" ”

The guard twisted the purse, which was very thin and contained about a silver ticket.

He eased his face and said with a smile: "Since Hua Shizi is willing to deal with it, then I'll leave it to you!" ”

There were only two people left in the plum blossom forest, Hua Yang stared at Shen Yuetong's face, trembled and stretched out his hand, and carefully touched her hair.

The hair had been unwashed for a long time, and it was knotted in strands, and it was as yellow as straw, which was very different from the black and soft of the past.

He looked at it with tears in his eyes, and the scenes of the past came to his mind.

They were very young at the time, and she was not as obsessed with power and wealth as she is now, nor was he as obsessed with drunkenness and lust as he is now.

He was eight years old, and he sat secretly in the stable in the backyard, holding a piece of wood, and with a chisel he was seriously trying to cut a small wooden horse out.

He likes carving very much, but his father said that he is the son of the Hou Mansion and is not allowed to do such unproductive work as carving, so he can only hide here secretly.

When he was concentrating, a delicate and agile voice suddenly sounded: "What are you doing?" ”

When he looked up, he saw the little cousin who was temporarily living in his house holding the stove and staring at the little wooden horse in his hand excitedly: "It's so cute, cousin, can you give me one?" ”

At that time, he had not yet enlightened himself, and he didn't know how to please girls, so he grabbed the Trojan horse, "This is the ...... I worked hard to carve."

Xiao Yuetong was a little disappointed, bit her lip and thought about it, and took out a delicate mahogany comb from her purse: "Then I will exchange this with you?" ”

The mahogany comb is exquisitely carved, and it is worth a lot at a glance.

He hesitated for a long time, touched the carving on it again, and finally reluctantly said, "Okay then." ”

However, such a delicate wooden comb was not suitable for him as a boy, and after he brought it back, he only studied the carvings on it for a while, and then shelved it.

And the little cousin was really kind-hearted, and when he was caught by his father secretly carving things, he took the initiative to intercede for him.

His father punished him for kneeling in the snow, so she held a silk umbrella and stayed with him seriously, telling him that the carvings he made were really good, but those people had no vision.

He peeked at her under the umbrella and thought that this little cousin was as cute as a dumpling.

Later, they got acquainted, and he secretly helped her make a lot of beautiful wooden combs.

He liked to comb her hair, because her hair was soft and smooth, like silk in her mother's house.

She liked to pick plum blossoms from the garden and put them in his room for decoration, and she smiled and called his cousin as a thank you gift for her wooden comb.

At night, they used to sneak out into the backyard and sit together to see the sparse stars on a bright winter night, and she said that it would be interesting to marry a man who could also carve a lot of things.

He looked at her side face stupidly, and at that moment, at the age of eight, he had the idea of marrying her.

He loves to carve, and she loves to carve people, and together they are, how suitable!

Childhood sweethearts, two little guesses, in the backyard of Washington that winter, were vividly interpreted by the two of them.

They were so good, but where did things start?

Was it in the spring when she was lying on the wall and saw the peerless man in Xuanyi riding on a big horse and beating the noisy streets, or did her aunt take her back to the Shen Mansion and teach her female etiquette, teach her to distinguish the quality of gold, silver and jewelry, and teach her how to enjoy aristocratic life?

In short, with the arrival of the following spring, everything changed.

She loves valuables and likes to be held high.

Once her favorite little wooden horse, I don't know where it was thrown to.

He wanted to talk to her in the starlight carefree as before, but she had learned to look at him with scrutiny as if she were estimating the value of an object.

He gave her a carefully carved lotus hairpin, but she threw it into the lotus pond, saying that such a wooden hairpin did not match her dress.

From that day on, he never touched a chisel again, never carved again.

Because the only person in the world who supported him has disappeared.

In the palace, the north wind carried snowflakes and plum petals and fell on the hair of the two men.

Hua Yang's eyebrows and eyes were congealed with snow particles, he took out a half-worn mahogany comb from his waist seal, carefully combed her hair neatly, and finally took out a jasper hairpin from his sleeve pocket and gently and skillfully put it on for her.

There were several cracks on the hairpin, which were faintly visible, and they were patched together with several pieces of jade, which was the one that was broken by Shen Yuetong at the beginning.

He took a brocade handkerchief and wiped her little face clean, and while crying, he stretched out his hand and closed her eyes.

He hugged Shen Yuetong and cried for a long time, and finally struggled to carry her on his back, panting and walking outside the palace, chattering: "Cousin, when I said I wanted to marry you, you refused, you had to enter the palace, and now it's so ......."

As he spoke, tears flowed down again.

And Shen Yuetong closed her eyes, her cheeks were red from the cold, and she was lying on Hua Yang's shoulder, as if she was just asleep.

The north wind howled, Hua Yang fell into the snow.

As if he was afraid of hurting Shen Yuetong, he hurriedly hugged her into his arms, so carefully, as if he was treating the most precious treasure in the world.

It would have been nice if she hadn't been taken away by her aunt.

How nice it would be if she would marry him.

If only he had the ability!

He hugged the silent Shen Yuetong in the snow, his face was full of wind and frost, and he cried: "Tongtong, Tongtong......"

In the distance, there was an ethereal singing voice of a singer: "I was awakened by the wine, and the gambling books were consumed with the fragrance of tea." At that time, it was just ordinary......"

The memories of my youth swirled in the wind until they turned into flying plum petals.

The snowflakes fell and the two of them were covered with their heads, he took her cold hand, and seemed to murmur: "The so-called childhood sweetheart, the so-called white-headed old together, is nothing more than that......"

They used to be green plums together, and they were white-headed.

It's just that compared to others, there is a lack of long-term companionship.

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