Crown Jewels

Chapter 13

This is called Huyan Uwei, is it possible that he is the successor of the current Turkic Chanyu?
The amount of information that popped up suddenly made Song Yan rub his brows uncontrollably.

Those heavy things occasionally mixed in the dream always gave him a sense of urgency, and he urgently wanted to accelerate his growth.

This inexplicable urgency made Song Yan's drowsiness completely disappear.

He simply got up and came to the courtyard, and performed two sets of boxing again, and the anxiety in his heart eased.

Just as he was about to close his clothes and fall asleep, Song Yan couldn't help but focus on his stomach.

After all, I consumed too much today, and my body protested.

Song Yan shook his head slightly, picked up the pastry on the table that he often used as a decoration, and a wry smile emerged from the corner of his mouth.

The pastry is the mung bean cake that is usually prepared in summer. It tastes the same as that of the grandma's Shou'an Hall in the Fuzhong. It is not necessary to know that it must be the grandmother who ordered Chen Ping to go out to buy it, because he was afraid that he would be hungry at night.

In the mouth is the sweetness of mung beans. Although I don't like it, it can handle my appetite anyway.

Moreover, compared to the pastry that Song Leyi served him two days ago, it was not so sweet.

Gobbling down another two yuan, Song Yan turned around to get into the couch, but suddenly stopped after taking two steps.

Song Yan turned around again, looked at the remaining three cakes on the plate, thought of something, and couldn't help raising his brows slightly.

If I remember correctly.

The night I dreamed of Gu Baozhu twice, I seemed to eat that sweet and greasy snack to fill my stomach, the only difference seems to be...

It seems that it was brought to her by the little ghost at home, and it was so sweet that it was so sweet, but it was so rare that it was given to him.

Is it possible...

Those weird dreams are related to eating pastry, and it must be that greasy pastry?

Song Yan's face suddenly turned ugly, and he picked up the remaining cakes on the plate and stuffed them all into his belly.

As if to prove something, the dross on the lips were not left behind.

When he was lying on the bed again, looking out the window at the dark night, Song Yan flashed through the absurdity.

He suddenly couldn't laugh or cry, he was really a demon, and he was really stupid after falling into a dream.

He actually thought that Gu Baozhu's ability to fall into a dream had something to do with those pastries that couldn't be beat!

Shaking his head lightly, Song Yan's panic disappeared, and his eyelids gradually became heavy.

The moonlight was as deep as water, shining into the northern grassland under the same sky.

At this time, the bonfire continued, and the Turkic people wrapped in thick animal skins sat around, all quietly watching the man who defeated the three princes one after another in the school field, squatting and panting.

Huyan Uwei pressed his fists to the ground, and the pain of bruising on his chest and cheeks was burning.

The sweat all over his face ran from his right cheek to the tip of his nose, and condensed into crumbling beads. Against the backdrop of the fire, they fell into the grass and shattered into several petals.

He closed his eyes slightly, and sure enough, the next moment, the rich voice of the prairie man came from his ears and entered his heart.

"Uwe, the number one warrior of our Turkic race!"

Huyan Uwei clenched his fists tightly, drawing red-purple marks, and then let go suddenly, laughing out the corner of his mouth.

Enduring the pain at the end of his eyes and the blurred vision, he desperately opened his eyes wide, looking at the most dazzling bonfire, the bearded Khan who was surrounded by everyone.

Looking at each other, Huyan Uwei clenched his rear molars, stretching out his jaws arched by his masseter muscles.

The next moment, Huyan Uwei relaxed, but his eyes did not move away.

The tip of his tongue subconsciously, bit by bit seriously, licked the blood spilling from the corner of his lips.

In the bonfire, Hu Yanmao squinted his eyes, letting the light of the fire dim his face.

Finally, he quietly turned his head and looked for consultation, the leader's majesty was fully displayed.

"Khan, Uwe was born to the Yan slave who pestered you back then.

Since the woman died, she has fended for herself and wandered in the tribe alone. "

Huyan Mao raised his eyebrows, snorted coldly, and looked at Huyan Uwei in the school field again, with more scrutiny in his eyes.

The moonlight blends with the light of the fire, and I don't know how long it will jump when it is on and off.

Finally, Khanwei's solemn voice came, with a different indifference from the content.

"Let's say, tomorrow! I am a Turkic tribe, welcome the seventh prince, Huyan Uwei."

After the words fell, as if he had no patience at all, Huyan left with a sullen face, without looking at the man in the campfire again.

The instant he turned around, the disgust and unwillingness in his eyes under the bonfire were clearly reflected in the eyes of the waiter beside him...

The coolness of the night is ignited by the light of dawn, shooting out the warm sun.

Song Yan and Fu Sinian, who had a good night's sleep, climbed over the wall of the academy along Zhuangzi, and arrived at the academy half an hour earlier.

Today, the eighth day of the lunar new year, is the day when Mr. Lu Jiuxi, the head of the mountain, came to teach.

Qi Yuan, as the head of the study studio, is naturally more strict in the investigation today, so the two dare not be careless,
Seeing that there was still half an hour left before class, Song Yan and Fu Sinian parted ways and went to the Zangshu Pavilion of the academy.

His purpose today is very clear, that is, to inquire about the customs of the Turkic people in Fanbei and the changes in the war with Dayan, and by the way, to see how many sons the old Shanyu has given birth to.

Borrowing two books from Zangshu Pavilion, Song Yan went directly to the teaching room.

Because it is the head of the mountain who is teaching, there is no distinction between male and female students today. As soon as they walked to the door, the female students' delicate voices came to their ears.

Song Yan had expected it a long time ago, and went directly to the table and chair on Fu Sinian's right with the booklet in his hand.

There was still some time left before class, and as soon as he was seated, Song Yan spread out the top "Turkic History Collection" and read it carefully with downcast eyes.

"You like this?"

The man's clear voice came, and the gentle tone brought back his thoughts.

Song Yan raised his eyes subconsciously, and saw standing in front of his desk was a very handsome man dressed in a Confucian robe, who was Mr. Lu Jiuxi's teaching assistant. Qi Yuan, who had met him once,

Standing at such a close distance, Song Yan found that Qi Yuan had pouty eyes, with a faint pink around them.

His bookish air and straight bones barely suppressed his provocative temperament.

Less than half an hour before class left, the male students were playing and playing, and the female students from the Western Regions were chatting with each other.

Song Yan nodded slightly towards Qi Yuan, his demeanor regained a little slack.

"Hmm - it looks pretty good now."

After finishing speaking, he looked at the people around him in doubt, and asked politely:
"Qi Zhaichang is also interested in this?"

Qi Yuan took a fixed look at Song Yan, and saw that although his demeanor was lazy, his words were very polite and courteous.

When he talked to himself, he seemed very casual but did not make people feel neglected, as if in his eyes, although he was a fasting head, he was a student who was almost the same as them.

All in all, he felt very comfortable talking to Song Yan.

"The Turks are located in the northern part of my Great Yan, and they have frequent exchanges with our dynasty."

"I once heard a few words from the head of the mountain. It seems that the old Shanyu of the Turkic tribe intentionally asked his sons to come to our Dayan to pay tribute on behalf of the Turkic people, so as to form a good relationship with the country..."

(End of this chapter)