Chapter 134: Wetlands

We entered the forest again. ()

At intervals, we can see Sagron's seemingly inadvertent traces: a woodcutter's scythe; a wooden ploughshare stained with mud; A silk scarf woven with icons. It's a good thing for us to be honest, and it's a good thing for us to be recognizable, but at the same time it's too reckless, and if someone else sees it, they're going to be suspicious. But maybe Sagron was right, the Immortal Heaven had already given him a revelation, and if he did, he would be able to lure our family out of the forest.

A country priest once told me that true believers see God's hand when they are in the wilderness and thus avoid michi. The hand of God will turn into a rabbit staring at a man; will turn into a bird that flies over your head; It can even turn into a gust of wind - all to get you out of where you lost it. Now it seems somewhat funny that the signpost we are following was left by a man whose faith had been occupied by a pagan religion, and which was still the nature worship of the Kugit faith.

On the most frightening days, our family followed the mark of Sagron and headed north. Occasionally our road is bent to the east, but before long we are determined to make a northward direction. Two days later, we crossed the upper reaches of the Blue Glacier.

The trees become sparse, the sky becomes high and empty, and the sky occasionally becomes gray méngméng. During the day, the sun is dazzling, and it is warm when it shines on the body, and after a long time, a layer of fine beads of sweat will appear. At night, the temperature drops dramatically, unlike in Suno, where the forest is so cold that we huddle together and wrap ourselves in blankets.

We fled on horseback on the grassy slope facing north, the sun shining on us, the gray-green blanket and cloak swaying slightly in the wind, and my face flushed with the oncoming wind. Sometimes my left ear is red from the wind, but my right ear is unharmed, maybe it's because of my parents' different constitutions

Occasionally, my father would look back at the place we had just passed, and each time he looked back, his expression became more gloomy.

If, in my opinion, we are in a good situation, and we have a group of friends behind us who are delaying the enemy for us, which is a good thing. But as an aristocratic soldier of the Empire, my father knew how vulnerable those green forest robbers would be when they clashed with the regular army. The reason why the Green Forest Bandits were able to continue to fight the Imperial forces on the plains was because of their flexible tactics and the fact that they had nothing to defend.

This time, however, Sagron's men wiped out their advantage: they had to stay in a wooded ambush, and they had to make sure they were in constant contact with the regular army.

No matter how strong the longbow is, no matter how sharp the dagger is, and no matter how familiar the terrain is, it will not be able to play its greatest advantage at this time. Once the heavily armed soldiers came to their senses, what awaited Sagron could be doomed. Sagron could no longer lead his squad over the mountains and mountains to deal with the patrol for as long as he had done in the past, and in those days, he could get the patrol back to town in a few weeks, and survive another manhunt as long as he had quietly hid in the mountains and waited for the patrol's morale to wear off, and then went back to sāo to disturb them from time to time. If Sagron had been given the freedom to choose, he would probably never have chosen to fight the army in such an situation.

But this time, Sagron knew he had no choice.

The brothers, who had been farmers, watched Sagron silently; The yellowed letters of contract were silently watching Sagron; The former leader was silently watching Sagron.

Sagron was afraid of death, but as a man, he was even more afraid of being ashamed of those silent expectations.

In the mechanical bow shè arrow, Sagron has no regrets about his choice.

Repaying kindness is the finest and most divine quality of a man.

But the cruel thing is that the best qualities often lead to destruction. In the forest, the whitest lamb is always the first to be eaten by wolves, and the same is true in the world.

By the time my father began to realize this truth, he had already been put in a desperate situation. I don't know what my father would have done if he had the opportunity to devote himself to the world again after understanding this truth. But in the end, he didn't have a chance. It's a shame for my family, especially for me. But that's not a good thing for me compared to my father.

At least, when my father left me, he still had his ideals with him. Although at that time, there were already signs that the ideals in my father's heart were crumbling.

The joy of escaping has not yet washed away the fears of the past, and a new shadow has enveloped our hearts. We found that the markers made by Sagron had been visibly broken, and that we had not received any help in the village where Sagron had directed us, where the villagers spoke the northern dialect we didn't understand well, and who were not too afraid to approach us.

My father had been arguing with the villagers for a long time, and he barely knew that shortly before we arrived, the soldiers of the patrol had cleared almost all the villages on the border, taken away some suspicious people, and warned the inhabitants not to help any outsiders. Inside the carriage, I saw the cold and cruel faces of the villagers, who were accustomed to moving the border areas and were difficult to catch.

Grandfather said that in times of war, people here would often be loyal to different monarchs at dawn and dusk on the same day, and it was all weighed in their own interests. Now, we have to worry about these people: they are threatened, and they are promised a bounty, which could turn them into our most formidable enemies.

My father replenished his food and drink at three times the market price, and after inquiring about a border village, he hurried on his way.

From that day on, we found that behind us, there were people sneaking after us all the time. The border people rode máo-colored horses, and followed not far or close, and my father suddenly turned back a few times to see what was going on, and the border people immediately dispersed. Everyone we met was staring at us with scheming eyes, perhaps it was just our own imagination.

I've heard the stories of border people. I've heard that in the borderlands, a female ewe who walks in the wrong sheepfold can start a bloody fight. During the North Sea War, Haraus once offered a reward of four large gold coins for the head of a Nord in a desperate situation, and as a result, many men from the village all went to the battlefield and rushed to kill the Nord people desperately. Later, when Harlaus broke his promise and did not pay for the mountain of heads, the angry villagers immediately joined the Nord army.

I wonder if if a frontier general offered a bounty for our family's head, would it also drive the villagers of these impoverished places into madness.

Crows always bring bad luck.

And this time, I heard it, I saw it.

A raven scurried past our carriage like a messenger predicting mourning. At that time, we were passing through a wetland. I saw the endless pond flowing water and the dense reeds all the way to the horizon.

A world without a hint of wind is like an old man taking a nap: quiet, distressing kindness.

The sky and the clouds in the sky are reflected on the water, and the vast surface of the water is like a mirror. I saw the birds flying in a column in the sky and above the water at the same time, and I knew that they would converge into a point at the end of the horizon.

From time to time, our carriage would startle wild fowl hiding in the grass, most of which I did not recognize.

When I was in White Pigeon Valley, I only knew ji, ducks, geese and pigeons. Later, when I arrived in a foreign land, I realized how closed life was in the Valley of the White Pigeon, although that life was like heaven for me. At that time, my understanding of birds was that jiji and ducks provided eggs, while geese and pigeons provided routing. By the way, Lady Pianwen's pigeon soup was so delicious that I asked another NV guy to make it, but the clumsy guy couldn't make it.

Luckily for me, I was able to eat Lady Pianwen's pigeon soup again in my lifetime, although it was a long, long time since then, so long ago that I have long forgotten the taste of the original pigeon soup, but left a faint symbol in my memory: pigeon soup is the most delicious.

Years later, I recall with regret and emotion that the wetland was rapidly disappearing. When the Rhodok technique of enclosing the lake spread far and wide, and the people were enthusiastically destroying every useless pond and lake, I came to this wetland with a large group of Swadian farmers throwing rocks and dirt from the south into the pond. The wetland is like a cake in a child's hand, swallowed up little by little, and will disappear completely one day.

I've always wondered if if this wetland is gone, then the story associated with it will also be gone.

Years later, I stood on top of the last remaining veins of water in the wetland, recalling that afternoon many years ago.

I remember this day vividly.

It was the afternoon of the second day after we left the last village we encountered. The weather was hot and muggy, and the clouds were low. The insects flew very low, and the low altitude was full of birds chasing the insects, and these flying creatures were dancing happily. The air was heavy enough to wring out water, and my shirt stuck in front of Xiong as if everything was cháo. It's going to rain heavily. But there was the sun in the sky, and there was plenty of light, which seemed strange in the dim weather. Occasionally, a small rain of the sun falls. The horse's nostrils grew uneasily, sniffing carefully at everything that made it curious and wary.

The memory is so clear that it rusts like a nail into the wall; Like an eagle dying in the air; It's like a lover buried in the bottom of my heart.

Ah, I remember this day until years later.

Because in this day, I lost my father.