The white and tender little face is chubby,

The swaddling clothes are thick and warm.

Don't cry, child

His father was a noble lord,

Mother is a famous lady,

Solid and rich, do not worry about food and clothing.

The castle is towering, overlooking the mountains and valleys,

These territories are yours.

The world is sinister, but the strong survive.

Bandits are rampant, and the enemy country is strong.

Don't be afraid of the trumpet rumbling,

Warriors keep you asleep.

The bowstring is full, and the blade is cold,

Don't cry, child.

Sleep more and eat more, grow up faster.

You will be a hero of the world,

A lifetime of horses.

……

The scene in the dream gradually faded and blurred, and the aristocratic young master Dali Einfurt slowly opened his eyes.

The winter morning is like night, and it is still dark outside the window, and the interior of the Einfoot mansion is already brightly lit.

The personal valet came to serve Dali to wash and shower, the young master was still sleepy-eyed, half-asleep, and let the servants help him take a bath and change clothes, as usual, he was in the study while reading the illustrated picture books while eating breakfast, but today he seemed a little absent-minded, and his mind was still thinking about the scene in his dream.

In the dream, his spiritual eyes crossed the torrent of time, back to more than ten years ago, the woman humming the ancient lullaby was his mother, much younger and healthier than now, singing softly and gracefully, and the swaddling baby gave birth to a pair of blue eyes, no doubt it was himself.

More than a year ago, Dalí discovered that he was gifted.

He has an amazing memory, he can remember exactly what happened a long time ago, and he can describe the situation in detail as if it had just happened in front of his eyes. Later, he discovered that his talent was not just as simple as a super memory, and some things that had happened to him, even if he had not witnessed it with his own eyes, could glimpse the scene in his dreams.

For example, a few months ago, when her mother's personal maid Elise accidentally broke an expensive teapot, and when no one was around, she lied to the old butler Weiss that it was the cat that broke the teapot, so the poor old cat was kicked out of the Einfoot mansion that day, and spent the rest of his life in the storehouse by the lake, feeding himself by catching rats.

Young Master Dali Einfoot was very sympathetic to the old cat who was in trouble, and he secretly wrote down this inconspicuous little thing in his heart.

Soon after, during a nap, he saw in a dream a scene from the previous study, and saw the maid Elise bending down to pick something up when he touched the teapot and broke it, and there was no cat in the room at all.

The next day, he went to the maid's quarters alone, and described to Elise everything he had seen in his dream, including the dark blue glaze pattern of the teapot, the shape of the stains on the ground, the embarrassed expression of the maid Elis, and the whole process of blaming the poor old cat with cat hair next to the ceramic shards.

Elise was so frightened that she bowed and apologized to the young master and begged for his forgiveness, crying and begging Dali not to tell the butler and the master about it.

After all, the teapot was worth a fortune from the Far East, almost worth a quarter's wages, and the lord of the mansion, Baron Paulus, was generous and benevolent, but he hated a lying servant above all, and if she told the truth, she would lose her decent job in the mansion and return to her native farm to do heavy work.

Master Dalí had no intention of embarrassing the elderly maid, but only asked her to promise one thing, and that was that she had to go to the storehouse regularly to feed the poor old cat. Dalí promised her not to tell the truth, he just wanted to test whether his dreams had actually happened, and he got a yes answer.

Since then, Dalí has confirmed that he has the ability to recreate the past in dreams, but this ability is beyond his control, and he only occasionally sees boring old things in his dreams, which does not have any practical effect.

For him, the real useful talent is a strong memory, he can read books without forgetting, he is also full of curiosity, he likes words and pictures, and often buries his head in the study all day.

People laughed and said that Dali, the eldest son of the Einfoot family, was a wooden nerd, and many people advised him to read less books, go out and walk more, and play with other aristocratic teenagers, otherwise his body would remain weak.

Proper advice, he thought, but he didn't want to do it.

He has much more knowledge in his mind than his peers or even adults, but his physical fitness is his Achilles' heel, knowing this, but he still likes to stay in his study, wandering among words and illustrations.

The old butler's deep voice broke his musings.

"Sorry! I'm sorry to disturb you, Master Dali, my lord called you downstairs to practice your sword, and your brother is already waiting for you in the hall. ”

"I'm annoyed to death, and I have to practice swords again!" Dalí muttered, reluctantly putting down his book and standing up, complaining, but not daring to slack off in his body's movements.

Dali knew how strict his father was and didn't dare to make him wait. With the help of his servants, he changed into a fencing suit in the style of hard cotton armor and studs, drew a blunt training sword, and walked briskly towards the hall on the first floor.

In the vast hall, where the bright marble floors reflect the light of countless candles, and the sound of metal clashes echoes through the towering pillars, Baron Paulus Einfurt is teaching his two sons the art of swordsmanship.

Unlike last week's battlefield saber arts, which were full of action, this time they were practicing a practical set of swift sword techniques, with sharp movements and light steps, especially suitable for street defense and dueling heads-up.

The baron's eldest son, Dali Einfurt, was not tall and thin, he had the misfortune of having a long horse's face, and his eyes were as thin as the rest of his body, like two slender wounds of blue, his complexion was pale, and his high nose was freckled, and he had neat short brown hair.

The boy had an elusive mystery, seemed lazy and aloof, looked absent-minded all day, and apparently preferred reading to swordsmanship.

Dalí's younger brother, William Einfurt, had inherited all the virtues of his parents' appearance perfectly, with broad shoulders, slender limbs, and curly blond hair like his mother, and he was handsome, ruddy, and had large deep blue eyes.

William's sword swing was smooth and graceful, compared to his brother Dali, who was much worse than even this lightweight training sword, and Baron Paulus Einfurt stood aside, facing the poor performance of his eldest son Dali, he was not angry as a father, but redoubled his patience.

His wife is beautiful and kind, and his two sons also have their own strengths, everything is going well, and he only needs to patiently guide the children to grow up, and the future of the family will be bright and infinite.

The eldest son, Dalí, had a talent and personality that was more satisfying to Baron Paulus, Dalí was not as mischievous as children of his age, he loved to read, and had an amazing memory.

What this father longed for most was a brilliant successor, and according to the customs of the Valstads, the eldest son inherited the family business, and Dalí's intelligence and studious were just what he expected, and it didn't matter if he was short and thin.

And William, the strong second son, did not live up to his expectations, the training sword in his hand is as natural as an extension of the arm, this child will definitely surpass himself in the future in swordsmanship, and may even be comparable to contemporary swordsmanship, in the future will definitely be able to become a brave and good soldier, on the battlefield to win a medal of glory, inherit the courage of the ancestors.

Baron Paulus himself was able to write and fight, he had been on the battlefield, he had been an official, and he had absolute confidence in cultivating an excellent heir. The head of the house is immersed in a beautiful vision of the future.

The old butler Weiss walked to the hall, as if he had something to tell, and he waited politely, unwilling to interrupt the sword practice of the master and the young master.

The old butler Weiss is a stern-looking old stubborn, he likes to follow the rules, he wants to do everything according to the ancient system of the Valstad nobles, and the pursuit of etiquette has reached a morbid level.

Paulus noticed the butler who was waiting nearby, and he reached out to the valet to bring a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and then stepped aside and told his two sons to continue practicing.

He sat down and asked the butler, "What's the matter, Ves?" I told you don't have to be too inhibited, just say it, don't be afraid to disturb us. ”

"It doesn't matter, sir. There was a street boy who fainted outside the fence somewhere on the manor, a little girl, who looked like she had fainted from hunger and cold. She would have woken up, but she was still weak. I have instructed the servants to take the girl to a hot meal, and then to find her some of the servants' old clothes to keep warm, and to keep her in the side room of the manor, and to send her away with a few dollars when she has regained her strength. Do you think it's safe to deal with it this way? Master. ”

Baron Paulus took a silver coin from his jacket pocket with two fingers and put it on the table, he took a sip from his teacup and said:

"You're doing a great job, Ves. We in Einfurt have always been generous and kind to the poor. It's up to you to do this, give the money to the child, and let the servant take her to the orphanage in the city of Tadjavi tomorrow, and mention my name to the director, who has been funded by our family, and the director will surely agree to take her in. ”

"Okay, I'll do it, I'll bother you, sir."

After speaking, the old butler bowed his head respectfully, and slowly retreated to the door before turning to leave.

The two young masters listened to this conversation in their hearts, compared to the cold aristocrats in Tajiavi City, their father's approach was gentle and considerate enough.

After a while, the old butler Weiss came to the hall again, this time he was a little eager, and did not stick to the etiquette as before, and reported directly when he entered the door:

"I'm sorry, sir, but I think I need to bother you again."

"Tell me, we're done."

The homeless boy felt much better after a hot meal, and the little fellow was dumbfounded. She handed me a letter, and when I saw the words on the envelope, I thought it should be opened by your own hand, sir. ”

As he spoke, the butler handed over a dirty letter.

Baron Paulus Einfurt frowned, and he stared at the old butler for a moment, then took the letter with a puzzled expression.

The envelope was very rudimentary, badly cut, not even sealed with fire paint, and must not have been made by a nobleman.

Above the envelope is the address of the Einfoot family: Einfoot Manor, on the western outskirts of Tagarvid, Earldom of Helbis.

Underneath the address is a scribbled paragraph:

"General Paulus Einfurt, you are my last hope, and I beg you to read this letter in your busy schedule."

"General?" It's been years since no one called themselves by this title, isn't it? Baron Paulus's face changed and he eagerly tore open the envelope.