The clouds are as cool as ink, the moon is as cool as water, and the drizzle wets the wooden windows. The rain fog melted between the heaven and the earth, softening several pavilions and water pavilions.

Those former grandeur and desolation of war have now become just sentences and poems written by literati.

The Great Yuan Dynasty, which rode on mountains and rivers and fought for the world with a scimitar, has perished, and the Great Song Dynasty, which drank and sang with its open heart, has also gone.

All that is left is the thousand-year-old unchanging righteousness and iron backbone of the Han Dynasty.

The young Yanguan had been nesting in the gatehouse of the Guangyi Marquis Mansion for a long time, and even the old doorman with thinning hair persuaded him to go back first, if the rain was heavy again, he would get sick if he suffered from the rain.

It's just that this young official, stubbornly stubborn, holding the impeachment of the only son of Guangyi Hou, just knelt in the gatehouse, waiting for the summons of the Hou Ye.

The old porter sighed and walked over to the slightly broken wooden window, closing the creaking wooden window.

A gust of wind blew and tore a large corner of the already torn window paper.

The sound of silk and bamboo, the sound of beauty, followed the cold wind, through the broken window paper, into the ears of the young speaker.

The Ming Dynasty has only been established for a few years, and the people who started with Emperor Hongwu have already been corrupted by power and status, and only their bodies remain. Even an immortal palace could no longer hide the smell of corruption in it.

Yanguan held his breath, as if there was something unclean in the air.

The old doorman saw that the window paper was completely damaged, so he simply ignored it. Picking up the coarse porcelain teapot from the table, he poured a cup of hot tea for the young speaker.

Speaking of this young official, the old official was admired in his heart, although he was born poor, he did not have any flattery. Whether it is arrogant or arrogant, in this Huaiyin City, only this young man dares to face power and speak out. It is regarded as this Huaiyin officialdom, the only remaining clear stream.

The old doorman squatted next to the young official and handed over the teacup in his hand.

"Guangyihou doesn't see me for a day, and I don't drink for a day. The young speaker didn't take the tea, but moved his stiff shoulders slightly, and his slightly curved spine straightened up again.

The old doorman put the teacup within the reach of the young official, and he no longer persuaded him. Returning to the bamboo chaise longue, he put on a slightly thicker garment and took a nap.

Wait until the old doorman wakes up with a spirit. The young speaker who had been kneeling for a day was gone.

Alas, did you still give up, it should have been like this a long time ago. After all, the twelve letters of complaint against the only son of Guangyi Hou for arson and wounding people and robbing the people's daughters have been suppressed in three consecutive days, and maybe it will not be useful to kneel for one more day.

It's just that this old doorman also has a little expectation in his heart, hoping that this young man who still dares to speak out can hold on a little more. What exactly is insisted on, the old official doesn't know, maybe it's the only commendable backbone of this Ming Dynasty.

The old doorman wrapped his clothes tightly, sighed, and went to sleep.

The drizzle wet Wuyi Alley, and the sound of singing echoed in the courtyard of the high-rise mansions next to Wuyi Alley, and when it reached the ears of the young speaker, it seemed like the unwilling whimper of the female ghost.

Looking up at the sky, the moon on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month is really not as round as the sixteenth in memory. It's a pity that the woman who was carried out of the Guangyi Marquis Mansion and thrown in the mass grave couldn't even see the not very round moon.

In order for this kind of tragic situation not to happen again, why should I regret my own humble life? No matter what happens, today I have to ask this Guangyi Marquis who indulged in his only son for an explanation.

There are 3,000 households in Huaiyin City, dare to ask where the man is?

The old widower who had killed his daughter asked Song Tong to send seven blood letters, all of which were refused to be outside the door, and after shouting to the sky, he crashed to death on the stone steps outside the door. The blood on the head frightened the people up and down Huaiyin City, but it didn't wake up the people up and down Huaiyin City.

It was only the next day that Song Tongju sent someone to find the body that had been thrown into the mass grave outside the city, so that he could bury it alive, so that the young speaker could understand. Song Tong's judgment is not really confused, but this Guangyi Hou is highly powerful. Song Tongju is also weak, it is better to indulge in singing and dancing, and paralyze himself with this drunken gold. In exchange for living in this position in peace, unlike the previous general judges, there is no full corpse when he is dead.

In just a few years, Huaiyin City has been like a decaying palace, exuding a disgusting smell of mildew from the inside out.

If no one moves, maybe he can stand for a few more decades, and if you're lucky, maybe he can stand for a few hundred more years. If someone wants to repair it, maybe they will move one pillar in exchange for the collapse of the entire palace. How could Song Tongju not know this truth? How could this young official not know?

This young official is just a little unwilling, unwilling to let this Huaiyin City, which has a history of thousands of years, so long that the history books can fill an entire room, is so silent and rotten in the clutches of Guangyi Hou. He wanted to be the sharpest knife in Song Tongju's hand, cutting off the miscellaneous trees that not only did not support, but were still trying to bring down the palace.

It's just that with his own strength, it is not easy to save the building from collapse.

The young speaker touched the fold in the clothes on his chest, this is the thirteenth letter in the past few days, and the previous twelve letters have been pressed down by Song Tong on the grounds that there is no evidence.

How could this young speaker not know that this was Song Tong's sentence to protect him, but every time he thought of the old man who had no choice but to die headlong, the young girl who died tragically in the mass grave, the young speaker did not dare to sleep in peace, if he didn't even care about him, then who else would dare to care in this Huaiyin City? How many more tragedies like this would happen in this Huaiyin City?

If he manages, even if he can't get justice for the old man and his young daughter, those gentlemen will be somewhat restrained. Maybe there will be fewer tragedies like this.

He'll be able to sleep a little more soundly.

The wide Chang'an Street is empty, it is already the Lantern Festival, this drizzle is like fog wetting the clothes, and sure enough, as the old doorman said, it is really a little cold. The young official wrapped his wet clothes tightly, not because of the cold, but because he was afraid that the rain and fog would wet the fold on his chest.

At this moment, go and ring the shocking bell, even if he wakes up all the civil and military forces in Huaiyin City, Song Tongju will no longer protect him, and he will force Guangyi Hou and his bastard son to face this matter.

What he wants is not a result, but a statement, a statement that can warn everyone.

Looking up, there are about two or three thousand more steps, and it will be almost there.

"Childe is such a beautiful festival, but he walks alone on this Chang'an Street, what is the matter?"

The young Yanguan looked back in amazement, and at some point, about ten steps behind him, followed by a woman in red. The woman was dressed in red, holding a dark blue oil-paper umbrella, and a tengu roaring moon hairpin was stuck diagonally in her bun. Seeing him look back, he smiled: "Childe, but you want to ring the shocking bell?"

The young speaker nodded silently.

"Is it for the sake of Jiang Baochan, the only son of Guangyi Hou, to kill the childish girl?" the woman in red asked again.

The young speaker's heart instinctively tightened, and he suddenly took a step back.

That sword, like thunder, pierced through the night, and actually cut the water droplets falling in the air in half.

The young man took a step back and saved his own life, but unfortunately the fold hidden in his chest had fallen to the ground in half.

"Childe is very skilled, I don't know if this sword can be dodged so neatly. Before the words fell, the sword hidden in the handle of the umbrella was already the second shot.

If the first sword is only thunder, then the second sword is a thunderstorm. That sword qi crisscrossed the heavens and the earth, permeating the rain. I saw that the tip of the sword was divided into two, and the two were divided into four. Seal up all the corners where the young speaker might be hiding.

In the distance, the guards of the Shocking Bell had been alarmed, and they rushed here with swords in hand.

It's just that this distant water can't quench the thirst of the near.

By the time the guards arrived, the young speaker had already been chopped to pieces.

The half of the piece is folded up, written in blood, the murderer, Guangyi Hou Jiang Jingchu is also!