Chapter 2 A prince and a uncle, a light dust in the future

I'm going to die too?

I want to go to the earth with that stupid boy...

His heart had jumped to his throat, and the teenager's clothes were wet in the rain. He trembled his shoulders and his face was full of despair. The world cherished his life, not to mention a teenager who had just seen the prosperous scenery of the world, but the outside was full of iron horses, where could he go?

Looking playfully at An Bochen, who looked pale, the woman smiled and suddenly clapped her palm. The screams came from the secret room, followed by a burst of ghosts crying and howling.

There was no need to look. An Bochen knew what had happened, but he couldn't help shaking his shoulders and looking out through the half-closed iron gate. The moon like water sprinkled all over the ground, but there was half a thin body lying across the body. Blood flowed out, dyeing the moon flower scarlet, tinging the teenager's eyes, and tears couldn't stop flowing down his cheeks.

"However, who knows if Mr. Li was suddenly enlightened at the moment before his death."

The words with a smile echoed in his ears, the tears were blurred, and the candlelight swayed. An Baichen looked up and looked at the woman's joking eyes.

He has seen such a look many times. Whether in or out of the play, it is like a cat teasing a mouse.

S subconsciously, an idea flashed in An Bochen's heart.

If she hadn't been a little different as she said, maybe she wouldn't have been like this. She would have killed herself with a sword.

The crisp applause sounded again, followed by another scream. An Baichen only felt as if his heart was torn and couldn't help shouting.

"Don't..."

"Hee hee, I can't help it. Let me forgive them, but you have to solve the mystery of poetry on the wall.

Hearing the words, An Baichen's face stiffened. Before he could open his mouth, the applause sounded again. Looking up, the second servant had fallen into a pool of blood, leaving only the Li Xiaopang from Yuanjing Village with him.

He followed the young man who was like a crane for four years. He went boating to the lake and washing pens. Perhaps inadvertently, An Bochen gradually developed a little leisurely. Only in front of the little fat of the Li family, he turned back to the son of the tenant who swallowed his anger in the small village. Others didn't know, but An Bochen knew that the little fatness of the Li family was actually from a rich family. It was only because when the prince wandered to Yuanjing Village, Mr. Li happened to return from the capital and heard about the legendary deeds of Mr. Li. In the village, he suddenly saw a handsome prince. After a little inquiring, he naturally knew the identity of Mr. Li. Although Li Yuanwai has more than 80 mu of good land and a rich family, he is just rich. If he is rich, he is not guaranteed when he is rich. Li Yuanwai also wants to make a reputation for his children and wears a top crown. At the same time, Li Xiaopang usually likes to eat, drink and play, and is not good at reading. Therefore, he is cruel, he lent Li Xiaopang to his son as a servant, but he wants to try his luck. It's a little expensive to go to Beijing.

Although he hates his children, Li Yuanwai is reluctant to suffer outside, which makes An Bochen, the son of the tenants in the family, go to Beijing together. In fact, he helps Li Xiaopang in private. Li Xiaopang also didn't voluntarily follow Mr. Li. However, his father's life was difficult, so he had to be the servant. He had already been secretly angry and usually held back. However, as soon as he saw An Bochen, who was a tenant, the young master lost his temper and inevitably made a sarcasm. Often at that time, An Bochen would always stand still and let the former little master be bullied, as if he were not in the capital and returned to Yuanjing Village.

Such things have also been bumped into by the prince several times. An Bochen thought that the prince would stop him, but somehow, the prince just looked at it quietly and then turned around and walked away. Until now, An Bochen still remembers the prince's dramatic eyes at that time, which were playful, joking, and a trace of Amber's inexplicacy.

......

"If you drag it any longer, you won't even be able to save the last one."

Seeing that An Baichen's face was complicated, the woman smiled and said, her right hand had been raised, but it did not fall immediately.

"Your son has written a lot of poems in his life. Maybe he just wants to use this poem to introduce other poems. Think about it again, I'll give you more time this time."

It's best for Xiaopang in the Li family to die, but if he dies, it will be my turn next.

His heart was as chaotic as a ball. An Bochen wiped the sweat on his forehead and tried to recall the poems and songs written by the prince before his death. He could rack his brains and couldn't figure it out.

The cold wind came, and the candlelight swayed and flashed. In the shadow of the candle, the jade-white but bloody hand was about to fall.

"Wait!"

"Why, did you find it?"

A trace of doubt appeared in her eyes, and the woman asked An Bochen.

"Not yet..."

"Then what do you call?"

The woman stared at the teenager angrily, looked at the wall, whispered twice, and sneered.

"This seven masterpieces are really bullshit. Is it possible that Mr. Li is also a deceiver."

The Seven... Wait...

The teenager was suddenly stunned, and the last sentence written by the prince's life flashed through his mind again. The next moment, his heart fluttered.

The prince likes to write poems and songs, but in the sentence, he only wrote five masterpieces, but left a seven masterpieces before he died. Is it possible...

Taking a deep breath, An Bochen forced himself to calm down, looked at the wall attentively, and muttered.

"Ninety-nine pavilions of smoke, dust and thousands of buildings. Taiwan is looking forward to each other, and you should slowly miss each other... Take the first two crosses and five broken sentences. Although the rhyme of the last sentence is lost, it can also become a poem. The riddles in the poem are nothing more than hiding the head and tail. The last sentence is rhymed with the first, chin and tail, that is, one, two or four sentences... Yan Lou Si? No, no... So... Jiu Chenjun?"

An Bochen's eyes were straight, and he looked at the blood-stained sentences on the wall, and his face was incredible.

Jiu Chenjun... Jiu Chenjun!

Others don't know, but as a servant of the Prince Li, how could he not know what Jiu Chenjun was, but he didn't expect that these people forced the prince to die just to get the inconspicuous puppet.

The woman who was playing with the sword was also shocked.

From beginning to end, she didn't want to find anything from that sentence. Staying here was just to lay out Liu Jiaoxi, who killed the master of the country, and let An Bochen solve his poetry fans, just to find a pleasure to pass a long and boring cold night.

But who would have thought that this seemingly inconspicuous young servant really cracked it!

Listening to his words and looking at his face, Wang Xiner can be sure that this teenager must know something.

Is that legend true? There are really immortal secrets in the world... Are the immortals still alive?

The bleak moonlight climbed through the window lattice, sank into the secret room, and flowed between the candles. It was as white as fog and as a halo, turning into a legend about immortals thousands of years ago, covering women and teenagers.

Riding the wind and Yuyu, a sword is shining and across thousands of places, driving the clouds and roaring, and a long song for three thousand years. Water and fire do not invade, eat thunder and cross the disaster, and live a long life. Take the dragon as a horse, take the crane as the companion, and transform in one way... Even in this era when immortals have died for thousands of years, the legends of immortals are still circulating in the streets, alleys and teahouses in the city, and the actors in the theater are matched with ancient music to imitate the immortals.

However, everything about immortals is just a little longing for people's daily life after day after eating and drinking. People with a little insight will not believe that there are really immortals in the world. Even thousands of years ago, they did appear, but thousands of years later, the vicissitudes of life. How many princes have become people, and how many grass has become princes? The world is changeable. In this thousands of years of history, there has been no trace of immortals.

The moonlight dissipated, and the fire candle burned to the end and gradually faded out.

In the dark room, An Bochen clearly felt that the woman was looking at herself all the time, and her eyes were inexplicable, but it was like a light on his back, making him uncomfortable.

"Miss, I've found out the secret."

Hesitating, the teenager turned around and said to the woman, with a deep sigh of relief.

"I know."

What answered him was the woman's not salty voice, and... An Bochen's face was full of dull applause.

"No!"

The teenager blushed, his legs shivered, and shouted in a low voice.

With the woman's expressionless clapping of her palm, Li's Xiaopang screamed, and his chubby head fell into the pool of blood, but An Bochen couldn't help trembling. Instead of sympathizing with Li Xiaopang's tragic experience, he thought that he would also be cut off his head like them, and then... There is no more.

From beginning to end, this woman is just playing with him. No matter whether she can solve the mystery of poetry or not, she will kill him mercilessly, just like singing on the stage - "The hand rises and falls, the knife clicks, and the big head mumbles to the ground. Who has a short life? Twenty years later, he will be another hero!"

An Bochen is not a hero. He is just an ordinary son of an ordinary tenant. He is just a servant, but no matter how small or insignificant he is, he always has seven emotions, six desires, joys and sorrows.

After accumulating all night, and even longer, the grievance could no longer be suppressed. The next moment, he got up and staggered to the woman.

"Jiu Chenjun... Thank you for telling the little prince. If the Wang family has a day to rise again in the future, Xin'er will definitely not forget the little prince.

The slightly sarcastic voice came with the sound of the spell, like a life-threatening song, and the candlelight on the window sill shook desperately. An Bochen shrank to the back wall to resist his inner fear, but under the swaying light, the concave and convex beautiful body was close at hand, and he could no longer move.

Wraise your wrist, draw your sword, and the scarlet blood flowers bloom in the secret room, like plum blossoms.

......

With a thrill, the teenager's body stiffened, took a deep breath, looked at the yellow roof, wiped the sweat on his forehead, and found that the cold sweat had already soaked his back.

He turned over and sat up, staring at the candlelight swaying in the wind.

"It turned out to be a dream."

Breathing for breath, An Bochen wiped his sweat and said to himself.

Looking up, the bloody sentences on the wall are clearly visible. The secret room is as dark as ever. Although it is still imprisoned here, everything does not seem to be as bad as in the dream, at least he is still alive.

He breathed a long sigh of relief and leaned against the cold wall and looked at the window lattice. The next moment, his pupils shrank sharply and his body curled back.

With a hiss, the moth burst into a small spark in the oil lamp.

With a "buzzing" on his head, An Bochen suddenly remembered an experience he had when he was six years old. That night, he had a very strange dream. He dreamed that the small stone playing with him in the village accidentally rolled down from the mountain. The next day, the small stone called him to burn grass on the mountain. An Bochen followed him in a daze. As a result, he saw the small stone fall off the top of the mountain and became a cold corpse when he was found by the adults.

But from childhood to age, such an evil thing has only happened once, for no reason. And An Bochen has never mentioned it to anyone. He doesn't even have his father. He is afraid that others will say that he is a monster. Maybe it's because I'm afraid to recall, or maybe it's because it's too long. In short, An Bochen never remembered it until today.

The delicate and pleasant voice sounded, which made An Bochen's heart jump to his throat.

"The man said before he died that the secrets we were looking for were all hidden in these seven masterpieces. People are about to die and their words are also kind. Is it possible that he still wants to play tricks on us before he dies?

"Xin'er is really simple-hearted. Li Gongzi still kept his mouth like a bottle before his death. Now that he is dead, he naturally wants that secret to be grounded with him. How can he pour out the truth to us? What's more, these servants are all ignorant. Even if the secret is really hidden in the poem, how can they find it?

......

The two people came and said exactly the same words, just the same as the situation in the dream. An Bochen sat in a daze and did not move. He only felt that his strength was drained in an instant, and the whole world gradually became quiet, leaving only a burst of heartbeats.

The woman's sarcasm when she teased him, and the cold sword flashed through her mind, but it made Anbo gradually calm down.

After seven years, I actually had such a dream again. The difference is that this time, the dead person in the dream became himself.

That year, if you were smarter and braver, you would remind Xiao Shitou that he might be able to save him... But the little stone died after all.

Am I also destined to be killed here like in a dream... No, no, if I am doomed to death, how can I know all this?

The prince said that there is a god who raises his head three feet. Although it is the method of practice, it is also the way of practice.

Which god must have mercy on my life and remind me secretly.

With his fists tightly, An Bochen slowly raised his head, looked over the dark window lattled, and looked at the starry night sky. The stars were bright, and the night was as white as day, inadvertently dispelling the fear in his heart.

Since I know what is going to happen, it may not be irreversible. I will definitely live and return to Yuanjing Village alive...

Taking a deep breath, An Bochen thought so. He didn't know that in the depths of his heart, something was quietly changing in a once extremely humble corner. Although it is only a trivial trace, it is like a drop of water falling among the stones. As long as it continues to die, there will be a day when the hard stone will be pierced.

A prince and a uncle, a light dust in the future, today's dust, how to know the uncle in the future? From then on, you will be called An Bochen.

That year, when I watched the play in the theater, the light songs of the actors on the stage were gentle, kindness and hatred, and the hero and beauty were so generous and heroic. The prince looked at the stunned teenager with deep meaning and said with a smile.