"What's your name?"

"Will be flat. ”

"Where did it come from. ”

"Far away. ”

"Why don't you go the long way?"

"I hope to be able to hold a broom and serve the sir. ”

"What about serving me?"

"I hope to learn the art of kingship from Mr. ”

"Then you go back. ”

The pine branches above his head rattled and shook, and a large cloud of snow scattered into droplets in the air, spilling into the young man's long messy hair. He stood under the ancient pine, his tattered white clothes covered with slush, silently carved out of ice and snow. In the harsh winter of December, the wind on the top of the mountain blows like a knife, and at any moment it can roll up his slightly delicate body like a dead leaf, burying him in the dark valley in front of him. But he had stood there for a day and a night, and had no intention of leaving, neither was he afraid.

A rudimentary suspension bridge was erected over the cliffs of the two mountains, which crumbled in the wind. On the opposite side of the suspension bridge, on the leeward side of the snow peak, is a detached hut yard, the wooden door is half open, and an old man sits in front of the door. He sat on a thick carpet with a huge umbrella spread over his head, and in front of him was a small table with warm wine.

Neither of them said anything more, and the old man raised his tin cup and drank the rest of the wine in the cup, and turned away. He didn't stand up, but turned around with his arms propped up, and everyone could see that the weak legs were broken. In the courtyard, the people covered with black towels stepped out of the snow, their steps were light and silent, stepping on the snow. Two subordinates carried the old man in a sedan chair, and the third put away the oil umbrella and table. The door slammed shut, and no one looked at the young man again, as if he didn't exist.

After a long time, the boy raised his head and glanced at the ventilated door on the other side of the suspension bridge, then sat down and took a bite of the cold hard dough from his arms, and picked up the jar under his feet. The water in the jar had frozen, and he picked up a stone beside him and smashed it on the ice at the mouth of the jar until a crack was opened. He leaned into the crack and took a sip of ice water, pouring the crumbs of the dough down, and his chest was cold, as if his blood was cold.

He chewed and poured a few sips of water, then stood up again, facing the suspension bridge in silence.

The snow began to fall again, and there was no end to it. Through the crack in the door, his figure was gradually engulfed in twilight and snowflakes.

"It's going to snow more tonight, isn't it?" the old man muttered.

The attendants knelt silently behind him without making a sound, all dressed in black, like owls in the night. The old man did not expect them to answer either, he knew that none of these people had tongues

"Why haven't you gone back yet?"

"I waited for my husband to change his mind. ”

"Why do I have to change my mind? You and I don't know each other, what does it have to do with me that you torture yourself?"

"I'm sincere. ”

"You are not the only one in the world who has sincerity. ”

"I'm more sincere than they are. ”

The old man smiled, still sitting under the umbrella and drinking.

On the morning of the third day, the snow stopped, and an old plum tree in front of the suspension bridge quietly opened, and was thrillingly red in the white of the white silver. The old man sat on the opposite side of the suspension bridge and drank, admiring the plum blossoms from afar, watching the occasional light red fall in the wind. Redder than the plum blossom was the blood of the young man, and he stood there with his hands wrapped in strips of cloth that had been torn from the placket of his garment, and the blood oozed out and stained it red. The mountain wind was cold and dry, and his hands were swollen and then cracked, covered in blood. His delicate face was also swollen, and he looked a little funny. It's just that his expression hasn't changed, and his slender eyebrows are covered with snow powder, flying obliquely.

The attendants carried the old man back again, and the young man took out the rest of the bread from his bosom, and two more.