In the valley below Xihuagang, Ye Yunsheng carried Cui Sheng's body with difficulty and walked towards Xihuagang step by step.

The afternoon sun stretched the shadows of him and Cui Sheng very long, behind them, as if to stop him from carrying Cui Sheng on his back.

The wounds on his body had long since cracked, and the blood was slowly flowing down his clothes to the soles of his feet.

One-step.

A blood-red footprint.

Not long ago, Cui Sheng was carrying him the same.

Shallow followed him, a little farther away. She didn't seem to dare to approach, for fear of stepping on the shadow and stepping on Ye Yunsheng.

Mu Fangqing was left alone to meditate and breathe in the deserted temple, not minding that Shen Xingchang's body was beside him.

Ye Yunsheng came to the Xihua Granite, and there were countless chrysanthemums in front of him.

He bent down, put Cui Sheng on the ground, and then took Cui Sheng's knife and began to dig the soil.

"Ye Yunsheng, let me help you. Shallow walked up and said.

"If you can help me save his life, even if I want to kneel down and beg you, I will not hesitate. He said softly, with deep regret in his eyes, but the movements of his hands did not stop for a moment, "That's all I can do for him now." ”

Shallow reluctantly retreated, and stood silently, watching him dig a big pit and bury Cui Sheng in it.

Ye Yunsheng used Cui Sheng's knife to cut a wooden card, engraved the words, inserted it on the ground, and then put the knife aside.

Chrysanthemums are brilliant and warm in the sun.

- "The Tomb of Cui Sheng, the Prodigal Son of the Rivers and Lakes".

Ye Yunsheng stood aside, but his expression was extremely lonely.

If Cui Sheng is still alive, the two of them can return to Xiangyang and have another drink.

"People in the rivers and lakes are most afraid of not swords and swords, but the farewell of life and death after the fight. ”

He muttered that although Asa was by his side, the person he was talking to had been buried deep in the ground.

There are only a few drops of wine left in the wine gourd, which is sprinkled in the soil, and not even a trace of the aroma of wine can escape.

Ye Yunsheng stood silent for a while, and said lightly: "Brother, I'll go first, there are still some things to be done." Don't worry, there are so many lonely souls and wild ghosts in the rivers and lakes, there will always be like-minded people who will come to you, besides, we will meet again one day. ”

When he went down the hill, he couldn't walk anymore, thanks to the shallow support, all the way back to the deserted temple.

Mu Fangqing heard the movement, collected his work, and came out to help him into the hall with Qianqian.

With the help of the two, he sat cross-legged, held the dantian in his hand, and began to heal his injuries.

This meditation continued until the next morning.

The "Styx Purple Qi" that was injected into the account room in his body has all been dissolved, and most of the injuries in the meridians have been healed, and the places on his body that were injured by the flying knives have been scarred.

I am only worried that the qi and blood are too consumed, my body is weak, and my strength is not ten days and a half months, and it is difficult to recover.

As soon as he finished his work, he smelled the aroma of herbs.

I don't know how this night passed, but I saw Mu Fangqing sitting on the side, lighting a fire, setting up a stone pot, and a pair of slightly happy eyes floating over, looking at him.

He nodded silently at the goddess, and then saw her smile relaxed.

After a while, Qianqian walked in from outside, saw him slowly moving his body, combing his qi and blood, and said with a smile: "Sister Mu and I have been busy all night, picking a lot of qi-replenishing herbs, and after a while, you will definitely be much better after eating." ”

Ye Yunsheng didn't say thank you, but only said to Qianqian: "The most important thing now is not to take medicine. ”

"What's that?" asked Shallow curiously.

"Find a secluded place and help me bury this man. Ye Yunsheng pointed to Shen Xingchang's corpse.

"I'm not going, let him rot!" said shallow pouting, unhappily.

Ye Yunsheng smiled and took out a silver ticket from his arms.

"How much silver?" Shallow turned his face sideways, not looking at the silver ticket in his hand.

"Five hundred. ”

"Hmph, don't!"

"Good. Ye Yunsheng said a word, and he was about to stuff the silver ticket back.

"Wait!" Shallow sprang over and snatched the silver ticket. "I see that your injuries are not well, otherwise this amount of silver, which is rare?"

Looking at her, Mu Fangqing couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh.

After Qianqian was very impatient but meticulously piled up a semi-circle of soil bags for Shen Xingchang, Ye Yunsheng had already drunk the medicinal soup, and Mu Fangqing faced each other with his palms, meditating to heal his wounds, and after such an hour, the three of them set off for Xiangyang.

"Are we going to find Cui Zilong, or are we going to find trouble in the Proud Place?" asked Ye Yunsheng while licking his tender and red lips.

"It's just that I went to Xiangyang to recuperate, and I escaped death, so I have to take a break...... Why, do you want to rob the Proud Place?"

"What does it mean to rob the rich?"

Ye Yunsheng squinted, looked at the shallow purse that had just been enriched with five hundred taels of silver, and said seriously: "It's literal." ”

“......”

His words were directly exchanged for a shallow speechlessness.

The three of them walked out of Longzhong, only to meet a carriage on the official road, spent some silver, and took the car all the way back to Xiangyang.

............

Three palm-sized snow-white rabbits lay in the steamer, and the old man looked in the direction of the fortress, which was a little far away and could not be seen clearly, but he was extremely focused. After a long time, perhaps thinking of Zhu'er's innocent smile, his expression soothed, and he sat on the chair leisurely, waiting for Zhu'er's arrival.

But this day was destined to disappoint him, even after dusk, the sky was dark, and he did not wait for the lovely bamboo.

He scratched at his head in the afterglow of the sunset that was about to sink from the distant mountains.

The old man's hair was already scattered, and when the wind blew, the sparse white hair writhed. There was a side that kept slapping his face, which was full of wrinkles, and it was very desolate to see.

When night fell, he blinked, and finally stopped looking in the direction of the fortress, but went into the wood room.

I threw a few pieces of firewood into the earthen stove, and it took a long time to light the fire, then poured some water into the pot and boiled a bowl of noodles.

This bowl of noodles is a real clear soup with little water, there is nothing to add, he held the hot noodle soup just out of the pot, leaned on the window frame in a daze, ate the noodles, and drank all the soup.

Casually wiping the bowl, he glanced at the steamer, but his hand was on it but did not lift it, and finally he put down his hand, walked back into the house, and lay down on the bed.

The next morning, when the light appeared on the window, he got out of bed, took the stick that was resting beside the bed in his hand, and opened the window.

Smelling the morning breeze blowing in outside, although there was no smile, the wrinkles that stretched out were a little happy.

But at noon, when the sun hung overhead, his two thick straight eyebrows wrinkled.

Accompanied by more than ten years of wine gourd I don't know which thief to go, yesterday there was no wine gourd, he refused to drink for a day, but today he couldn't help it, he couldn't wait for Zhu'er, his heart became anxious, just walked to the edge of the wine vat in the firewood room, took a water scoop, scooped wine to drink.

A scoop.

Two scoops.

Half an hour later, half a jar of wine had gone into his belly, he sighed comfortably, threw away the scoop, went out into the courtyard, took off the stick holding the window, used it as a crutch, and walked slowly towards the fortress.

Looking at the gate of the fortress, the clutter inside was discarded messily, and the corpses were emitting a foul smell......

The old man's eyes, which had read the vicissitudes of the world, were cold, indifferent, and numb......

He walked slowly through the pile of dead bodies, the hidden weapons and long arrows scattered on the ground were not enough to clean up, and after getting the news of the death of the account house, the people emptied the fort.

As for the bodies of the third sister and his wife, no one cared about them, and they were placed in two good coffins, and they were parked in an open space.

The buildings in the fortress were not like ordinary people's, and the old man looked for a while before he saw the two coffins.

Pushing open a cover, I looked inside, and there was a woman.

He stood silently to the side, looking at the other coffin.

This stop lasted for an hour.

The cover fell diagonally to the ground with a dull thud.

His gaze fell on the coffin, and he couldn't help but show a sad look.

This grief soon turned into grief and reluctance.

He stretched out his hand and patted Cao Yinzhu's little face, and called: "Zhu'er, good bamboo?"

Then he couldn't stand anymore, and slowly held the coffin and sat on the ground.

Waiting until the glow of the setting sun hits your face, it's like a huge bonfire burning in front of you. He stood up again and took the cold, soft bamboo out.

He carefully examined all the wounds on Zhu'er's body, and then checked the ...... on Cao's body Then he closed the coffin, found a hemp rope, tied the two coffins, and dragged the two coffins all the way back to his yard with the rope ends, like leading a dog.

He took a worn-out hoe from the house, dug two large pits on the side of the yard, and put Zhu'er and her mother into the pits.

This old man finally shed tears.

Until the night was dark, I was reluctant to cover up the soil......