Dajin, Yongxing twenty-two years.

Qingzhou, Beihai County.

In early spring and February, a gentle spring rain soaked the willow branches outside the courtyard wall into green. On the steps outside the window under the eaves, there is also a little greenery.

Zhao Xiyan sat quietly at the desk, and the white rice paper spread in front of him was unstained.

Sunlight shines through the latticework on her beautiful face, which is white and clean. The willow eyebrows are curved, the eyelashes are thick and long, the eyes are like paint, and the lips are like Danzhu. The green silk is like a waterfall, hanging down on the shoulder.

This scene is as beautiful as a masterpiece written by a famous artist. Even the spring breeze outside the window can't bear to disturb the peace and beauty of this room. Gently blowing, quietly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and falling softly.

Fifteen years old is the best years of a girl's life.

This year, she was also the daughter of the Zhao family of the Beihai Wang clan, proficient in piano and chess, calligraphy and painting, and became famous in Qingzhou.

This year, the rebels have not yet broken in, their relatives are here, and their homeland is safe.

Spring is good, she is young.

It's still too late.

A flash of water flashed in Zhao Xiyan's eyes, and he disappeared immediately. The expression calmly lifted the pen and dropped the ink, and the tip of the pen was like a swimming dragon. Two lines of vigorous and powerful words appeared on the snow-white rice paper.

Resolve the hatred in your heart, draw your sword and cut off the enemy.

The force penetrates the back of the paper, and the edge is exposed.

An invisible aura of slaughter rushed towards him.

The pretty girl hosta who was waiting for the pen and ink on the side, secretly in her heart, quietly glanced at the master.

The hosta is the slave of the Zhao family, and she has been clever since she was a child, and she has been serving by her master's side since she was eight years old. Zhao Xiyan never forgot to be incomparably intelligent, full of poetry and books, and was excellent in piano, chess, calligraphy and painting.

The hosta accompanies the master all day long, and under the influence of the ears and eyes, he knows how to appreciate it. At a glance, I can see that today's master is in turmoil, and there is a killing atmosphere in his pen.

Last night, the sleeping lady woke up suddenly. She was also awakened when she was sleeping on her footsteps, rubbing her sleepy eyes: "Miss has a nightmare?" ”

The young lady looked at her with an obscure and complicated gaze.

She yawned, poured a warm cup of tea, and waited for the young lady to drink half a cup.

The tea was hot, and a hint of blush appeared on the young lady's jade-like face. Afterwards, the young lady lay silently on the bed.

She knew that the young lady had not fallen asleep, so she insisted on talking to the young lady...... Mainly, she said, Miss listened quietly. Tiredness set in, and she fell asleep in a daze.

When she woke up after dawn, the young lady had already gotten up and sat in the study for half a day. Until now, he has not opened his mouth to speak. This strange silence really made her panic.

"Well, why did Miss suddenly write this poem?" The hosta summoned up the courage to break the silence.

Zhao Xiyan raised his eyes, and the corners of his lips raised slightly: "Isn't it good to write?" ”

The sound is pleasant, like a pearl falling on a jade plate.

Looking at the young lady's beautiful smile and listening to the familiar voice, the hosta's inexplicably flustered heart suddenly calmed down, pursed her lips and smiled: "Miss writes everything beautifully." It's this poem, and it's a little scary to watch. ”

Zhao Xiyan tugged at the corners of his mouth and suddenly asked, "What day is today?" ”

The hosta replied slowly: "February 15." There are still more than three months, and it is the young lady's ceremony. ”

As soon as the word "courtesy" entered his ears, Zhao Xiyan's fingers trembled slightly, and intense pain flashed in his eyes.

……

In her previous life, at the age of fifteen, she was full of joy and looked forward to the arrival of the ceremony. Unexpectedly, the day before the ceremony, the bandits and rebels poured into Beihai County, burning, killing and looting, and hundreds of people were slaughtered.

The Zhao family is a Beihai wang clan, and more than 3,000 people live together. The rebel army broke into Zhaojiafang with sharp blades, and the Zhao clan resisted desperately in a hurry, and then suffered a cruel and bloody massacre, from the seventy-year-old to the three or four-year-old children, no one was spared.

The most tragic thing is the daughter of the Zhao family, who endured all kinds of unbearable humiliation before her death.

Wailing and crying were endless.

A river of blood flowed like hell on earth.

Father Zhao Yuanming had red eyes, hurriedly pushed her into the dark room of the study, and asked hoarsely: "Crescent Yue'er, hide inside, don't make a sound." ”

On the night of her birth, dark clouds obscured the night sky, and there was only a crescent moon. Her father gave her this name.

The door to the darkroom was shut.

She curled up, helpless and desperate, crying silently.

Suddenly, the door to the chamber was slammed open. Several military men with red eyes flashed in, and the moment they saw her, those men were so excited that they actually started infighting.

Determined to die, she took out a sharp dagger and stabbed it in the chest.

The blood gushed out, it hurt!

The moment before her consciousness fell into chaos, she thought that in the next life, she would never learn any piano, chess, calligraphy and painting. It is useless to learn under the sword. In the next life, she wants to practice martial arts, at least she can kill a few before she dies.

Unexpectedly, she did not die.

Her heart was in an unusual position, and the dagger did not hurt her internal organs. She survived......

For years afterward, a wave of hatred sustained her. Even if life is worse than death, she has to live.

In troubled times, people are like mustard, and it is really difficult to live to take revenge. Fortunately, she still has the beauty of the country. No man could resist her slight smile.

The Great Jin Dynasty experienced eight years of war, and the new emperor established the Yan Dynasty. She entered the palace as a concubine and won the emperor's favor. She used beauty as a weapon and used the hands of the emperor to eradicate her former enemies one by one.

I don't know how many people scolded her as a "demon girl who calamities the country". She didn't take it to heart.

The tears have been shed, and the heart has long since died at the age of fifteen. She lives only for revenge.

The revenge was avenged, and she committed suicide by poisoning herself the day before her twenty-fifth birthday, closing her eyes without regrets.

But I didn't expect that when I opened my eyes, I would return to my youth.

Today is the fifth day of the second month, and her birthday is on the 28th of May.

There are still 100 days left before the rebels slaughter the city.

……

Zhao Xiyan picked up the pen again and wrote three words behind the enemy.

One hundred days.

The hosta was confused, and she didn't dare to ask more.

Familiar footsteps rang from far to near, and the door was knocked on indifferently.

The hosta was about to open the door, but the master's movements were one step faster.

Zhao Xiyan quickly opened the door.

The man standing in the sun of Lang Lang is nearly forty years old, slender, handsome, and elegant. A pair of black eyes were full of smiles, and she gently called her milk name: "Crescent moon." ”

This man is Zhao Xiyan's father Zhao Yuanming.

Zhao Yuanming is the descendant of the Zhao family, he was only eight years old when he was young, he won the first place in the hospital examination at the age of sixteen, participated in the autumn at the age of seventeen, and won the Qingzhou Xie Yuan. The next year, he went to the capital to participate in the examination, and he was the first in high school, and was named the champion by the Son of Heaven in the Jinluan Palace.

Eighteen-year-old Zhuang Yuanlang, what a proud scenery. After that, he entered the Hanlin Academy as a six-grade Hanlin bachelor, and he had a bright future. It's a pity that Zhao Yuanming was an official for less than two years, and he offended the prince of the current dynasty and was made difficult everywhere, so he had to resign and return to Beihai County.

Zhao Yuanming devoted himself to learning, personally taught his children and nephews in the Zhao clan study, and became the most famous Confucian in Qingzhou. Outstanding teenagers from various counties and counties in Qingzhou have worshiped Zhao Yuanming.

Zhao Yuanming is a gentleman, with a modest temperament, rigorous study, careful teaching to his disciples, never hiding his selfishness, and being respected by everyone.

Zhao Xiyan was born with a difficult birth, and her biological mother swallowed her breath after giving birth to her with all her might. In the past ten years, the matchmaker has almost stepped through the threshold of the Zhao family, but was politely rejected by Zhao Yuanming. The reason is that "my daughter is young, if I remarry, she will have a stepmother and half-siblings, but I am afraid that the house will be restless, and I don't want my daughter to be wronged."

Zhao Yuanming has been a widower for more than ten years, both a father and a mother, and raised her single-handedly. She babbled, toddled, enlightened reading, piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, all of which were patiently taught by her father.

The father and daughter have an extremely deep relationship.

Zhao Yuanming hid her in the dark room of the study at the most critical time, led the rebellious army away, and died tragically. She didn't even manage to collect her father's body......

The tears that I had endured after waking up from last nightmare's nightmare burst out of my eyes.

Zhao Xiyan threw herself into her father's warm arms, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Zhao Yuanming was taken aback, and while patting his daughter on the back, he asked, "What's wrong with you?" Who bullied you? ”

Zhao Xiyan choked up, and his shoulders kept trembling.

Zhao Yuanming had to stop asking, and glanced at the hosta. The hosta shook her head with a bitter face, indicating that she didn't know what was going on. He gestured to his desk again.

Zhao Yuanming's eyes swept and his brows jumped.

He is a master of calligraphy in the world, and his daughter is blue, although she is young, her calligraphy attainments are not weaker than his father.

This line of poetry, like a golden hook and silver stroke, is full of strong resentment and killing on the paper.

What's wrong?

For no reason, why did my daughter suddenly write such verses?

Zhao Yuanming was full of doubts, but he didn't have time to ask, so he hurriedly coaxed his daughter softly: "Don't cry yet, wipe your tears, what do you have to tell your father." ”

Zhao Xiyan clutched his father's shirt tightly, tears rained down, and cried happily.

After a long time, Zhao Xiyan's fierce emotions slowly calmed down. She took two steps back and wiped her tears with a handkerchief.

Zhao Yuanming couldn't care about the wetness on his chest, and looked at his daughter with concern: "Crescent moon, what's going on?" ”

Resurrection from the dead, back to youth. Such shocking things, I am afraid that no one will believe them. Zi is silent, and he may be regarded as a demon......

Zhao Xiyan did not hesitate, ordered the hosta to retreat, and then closed the door of the study: "Dad, I have a very important thing to tell you." ”

Zhao Xiyan's expression was cold and solemn, and his tone was calm.

Zhao Yuanming's brows jumped again.

He knows his daughter well. She has been precocious since she was a child, her heart is as careful as dust, she is very sensible, she will never do anything she is not sure of, and she will never say anything if she has no score.

She is so solemn, something must have happened.

"Okay, you say, I'll listen." Zhao Yuanming looked at his daughter: "Crescent Yue'er, don't be scared. The sky is falling, and there is a father to carry it. ”