The Rise of the Cold Gate in the Eastern Jin Dynasty

Chapter 124
The snow in the sky falls lonely, one, two, three.
The people on the ground are counting lonely, one piece, two pieces, three pieces.
I don't know how many films later, a boy with snow on his head and shoulders came to report in a hurry, saying that a person from Kuaiji came to deliver a letter. Xiao Qinzhi almost subconsciously thought of her, except for the one who thought about it day and night. Who else could she be?
Under Xu Miao's surprised eyes, Xiao Qinzhi quickly rushed into the heavy snow and ran towards the gatehouse.

The snow fell on the head, but the warmth hit the heart. At this time, an unspeakable joy spread from the heart. This is a confession from the midsummer to the cold winter. It has been brewing for half a year. aging.

"Shiro, slow down, the road is slippery, don't fall." The porter boy cared.

But Xiao Qinzhi's eyes and ears could not accommodate anything except the misty white curtain woven by the falling snow all over the sky. White, or crowded white.

From the school to the concierge, you have to cross the path of Jinniu Mountain. On weekdays, you always have to walk for half an hour, but now there is no distance between three feet and two feet.

The snow was falling heavily, and even the road became shorter.

Xiao Qinzhi covered his head and looked at the person standing at the gate from a distance. He was not the person who delivered the letter before, but he was wearing the same style of clothes, satin jacket and black boots, the outfits that ordinary hosts can wear, and he became a wealthy family. The standard configuration of a servant, there is no doubt that this servant is basically Xie's.

"Who told you to send it here?" Xiao Qinzhi asked, calming down.

"Are you Xiao Qinzhi, Mr. Xiao Lang?" The servant looked over vigilantly. Although he had never met Xiao Qinzhi, he had heard of Xiao Qinzhi's name, more than once. At least several gentlemen in the family often mentioned it.

Look at this one in front of you again, his body and shoulders are covered with snow, he came in a hurry, without a trace of the noble temperament of the young men at home, and he has never heard of any young men who braved the snow to come out to receive letters, so no matter how you look at it It's like Mr. Xiao Lang who is praised by the young man in his family.

"I am!" Xiao Qinzhi said expectantly.

Xie's servant hesitated whether to hand over the letterhead to the person in front of him, after all, when he came, Xie Erlang had viciously ordered him to hand it over to Xiao Silang himself.

"This is our family's Shiro!" Xiao's servant who went to inform Xiao Qinzhi said from the side.

"Our family's Shiro, how can we not know each other?" The other porters also laughed.

"Please forgive me Xiao Silang." The Xie's servant saluted, and then handed the letter that was still warm to Xiao Qinzhi from his bosom.

"Just wait a moment, I will finish writing the reply." Xiao Qinzhi smiled, and ordered the porter to go to the west building to fetch [-] yuan and a few jars of wine, thanking the Xie boy for his hard work in running errands back and forth.

Holding this letter in his arms, signed by "Brother Qin", he and another porter walked through layers of heavy snow and returned to the "Qinglou". The porter was waiting in the hall downstairs. Replying the letter, Xiao Qinzhi rushed to the bedroom on the second floor and opened the letter paper impatiently.

The letterhead is thin, thinner than a human heart.

There was only a blank piece of paper, as white as falling snow outside, dazzlingly white.

From full of joy to despair, it only takes a moment, not even as long as a snowflake falls from the sky to the ground.

Xiao Qinzhi sat paralyzed on the ground, staring blankly in front of him with empty eyes, the blank sheet of paper was lying quietly, motionless, like some abandoned soul, in the cold with nowhere to live Li shivered.

His lips were trembling, Xiao Qinzhi bit his lips and teeth hard.

His eyes were disobedient, so Xiao Qinzhi closed them tightly.

His ears didn't listen, so Xiao Qinzhi covered his ears with his hands.

Sadness, loneliness, and heartache isolated Xiao Qinzhi from the cold snowy day. It was an empty and dark place, where did he go?Where are you?I don't even know where it came from?

After waiting for half a year, only a blank sheet of paper came. Xiao Qinzhi could not accept this result, nor could he accept it. If there is no result, at least give him a reason!

what is this?
Why don't you even want to keep a word, a painting or a poem?

"Xiao Lang, is it finished?" The porter downstairs reminded after waiting for a long time, but there was no sound.

What answered him was the "russling" sound of falling snow.

Xiao Qinzhi suddenly felt a burst of cold, couldn't help but put his arms around his chilling body, got up tremblingly, sat down in front of the desk, held a trembling pen, wanted to write something, but had nowhere to write.

It is a piece of pure white paper, so why bother to desecrate this piece of pure white with humble ink pens!

"Xiao Lang?" The porter felt strange, came to the stairs, and knocked on the door frame.

"All right!"

The door of the study room opened, Xiao Qinzhi, who was colder than a snowy day, walked out slowly, handed a "written" letterhead, without any words, turned back to the bedroom indifferently, fell on the bed, hid under the quilt inside.

A blank sheet of paper and the happy scenes of the past are constantly intertwined and staged in the mind, and a heart is gradually shattered and clean. It really complied with that sentence, and it was completely white and clean.

This snow, since the beginning of winter, has been falling endlessly, occasionally stopping, and there is no trace of the warm sun, and the sky is always covered with a thick layer of clouds.

Finally, on the day of the winter solstice, it got better completely. The warm sun that I hadn’t seen for a long time and the white sky appeared together, but the snow in the sky stopped. When will the snow in my heart stop?
In the early morning, he went to the Immortal Terrace on the top of Jinniu Mountain to practice music, went to the martial arts field to exercise alone, and hid in the study room for the rest of the time to read. In the past few days, Xiao Qinzhi suddenly became diligent and diligent, but his luster also dimmed.

People in the family only said that Xiao Qinzhi had made more progress, only Xiao Yunzhi had guessed what was going on, and a few words of comfort would only cause troubles, it would be better to ignore it and let his wound heal itself.

Xu Miao also sensed that something was wrong, and asked several times when he found a chance, but Xiao Qinzhi dismissed it with a few words, as if nothing happened.

How can it be all right?

It's fine during the day, but what about at night?

Xiao Qinzhi knew that he was probably sick, suffering from a disease that could not control his wild thoughts, and the cause of the disease was some good memories from the past, the more beautiful, the more painful in his heart, and he could only lick it in the dark alone hurt, don't cry with others.

With this unknown serious illness, Xiao Qinzhi survived the Spring Festival until the beginning of spring. Instead of showing signs of improvement, there were signs of deepening. After countless sleepless nights, Xiao Qinzhi's complexion was dull and thin. dry.

Inviting a doctor to treat the disease was useless, those medicines could not cure the heart disease, even the old man could not do anything, this was the only time that the old man was embarrassed in front of Xiao Qinzhi, and once suspected that there was something wrong with his medical skills.

One day in mid-February, on an auspicious day, Xiao Shu finally married Yang Yu, whom he had been thinking of so much, and the Xiao's manor held a big banquet for it, which was very beautiful for several days.

On the shore of Fengqi Lake, next door to "Qinglou" is Xiao Shu and Yang Yu's wedding room "Study Building", which is covered in red and colorful, full of joy, especially joyful in these early spring days.

Next door to joy lives sorrow.

And grief is not the same as grief.

After getting married, Xiao Shu, who was happy for less than half a decade, rushed to Xuzhou with Zhou Lie and twenty Xiao's trilogy. A letter came from the north, saying that the war was about to start.

At the Xijin Ferry, watching Xiao Shu leave, Xiao Qinzhi suddenly realized that he was about to embark on this road, or this was the best antidote to the disease.

(End of this chapter)