Wedge

In the suburbs of Beijing in early April, there was a vibrant late spring scenery. On Luoyan Mountain, not far from Puji Temple, the trees were flourishing. Birds jumped from one branch to another and kept screaming happily.

After a hidden bluestone side in the middle of the mountain, a middle-aged man stood upright, wearing an indigo thin shirt almost the same color as the bluestone. A respectful fork hand of a middle-aged attendant stood beside him. No one could be seen around him. A gust of wind blew. Some of the soft blue grass fell with the wind, but some remained motionless. , there is a faint cold light flashing.

The direction of Puji Temple under the mountain came slowly. Several cars surrounded by dark blue silk enclosures, which were inconspicuous but extremely luxurious at first glance. The cars were surrounded by 30 or 40 elite servants riding horses. The whole motorcade was relaxed and easy to reach the foot of the mountain.

The motorcade all entered the foot of the mountain, and suddenly rushed out dozens of elite men in black and wrapped in black cloth from the bushes on both sides of the road. The people in black rushed into the team with tacit understanding and in great rules. They set their hands and cut vegetables and cut melons. In a blink of an eye, they killed the whole team and horses to a complete There is no corpse capital.

The middle-aged man halfway up the mountain looked coldly at the river at the foot of the mountain.

The man in black standing in the pool of blood gestured, and the vegetation separated in the depths of the bushes under the mountain. A middle-aged man in gorgeous clothes strode out. The middle-aged man halfway up the mountain shrank his eyes slightly and raised his hand and waved.

From halfway to the foot of the mountain, hundreds of dead men with sharp blades rushed down the hillside like the wind and killed the man in black at the foot of the mountain. In this fight, there was no sound except for the impact of the sword, but it was extremely thrilling. However, a cup of tea killed the dead men in black and brocade clothes on the hillside. The young man began to carry the corpse in silence.

The middle-aged man halfway up the mountain breathed a sigh of relief, stamped his feet, turned around and walked to the mountain, asking lightly, "Whose convoy?"

"Li Zhongxian, the son of the Duke of Yongguo, and his wife Yan, are the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Ningyuan. I heard that they had just got a daughter and went to Puji Temple to fulfill their wishes." The middle-aged servant's voice is very soft, like a female voice.

"Daughter?"

"Yes, it's just one month, and my name is Li Tian."

"Oh." The middle-aged man answered dryly and walked to the mountain without looking back.

......

The Duke's Mansion of Yongguo was submerged in a vast expanse of whiteness. Li Zhongxian, the son of the Duke of Yongguo, the young talent who had a talent since childhood and won the first place in the examination at the age of 12. He was as handsome as a poplar under the moon, and his wife Yan, who was both talented and beautiful, with a rich dowry to make people jealous, both died.

Yan's mother, Mrs. Lin, helped the girl with difficulty, got out of the car, shook off the girl's hand and stood still, took two deep breaths, and steadily went into the backyard.

In the main courtyard room, Li Zhongxian's mother, Mrs. Ning, lay on her back on the kang and looked straight at the top of the tent.

Mrs. Lin supported the edge of the kang with one hand, sat down on her side with difficulty, reached out and patted Mrs. Ning hard and said, "Sister, get up! Get up! Isn't it cheaper for others to abuse yourself like this?!"

Mrs Ning slowly sat up and looked at Mrs. Lin with dry eyes: "... Don't worry, I will avenge Xian'er and Wan'er! You have to close their eyes. You take Tiantian back, carry Sister Wan's dowry back, and keep everything that Xianer has used for Tiantian. Tiantian will give it to you, and I will never worry about it anymore.

......

In the Qingtong courtyard in the corner of the backyard of the Duke of Yongguo Mansion, Li Zhongchao, the eldest son of the concubine, kneltted in front of his father's bed and kowtowed like garlic: "Father, father, please, please, please help Aunt Shen, please help her. She is the biological mother of my son, father, please you, son, please!"

**, Duke Yongguo looked at the roof blankly, as if he didn't hear his son's plea... Xian'er! My good son! A sharp sting went straight out of the heart of the Duke of Yong, as if he had been tortured with thousands of knives. The son he regarded as if he had lived and loved him to the extreme, the son who was amazing and made him extremely proud. Tears kept pouring out of the corners of his eyes. He thought he was numb. Why did he still hurt so much...

Yong Guogong slowly turned his head and looked at the eldest son with a bloody face. Li Zhongchao hurriedly took two steps on his knees and shouted eagerly, "Father!"

"You are the son of the world, and in the future, the Duke of Yong will be yours..." The Duke of Yong said dryly. Li Zhong looked at his father in consternation, and the Duke of Yong looked up at the roof again, and tears kept flowing...

Li Zhongchao knelt in front of the bed in a daze, and the blood on his face flowed down his cheeks and dripped on the ground. I don't know how long it took, Li Zhongchao got up with difficulty and shook out like a paper man.