Lord of the Desert

Chapter 279
The next day, the seventeenth day of the first lunar month.

The sun shines through the windows as usual.

Hong Fan didn't sleep for the second night in a row.

At dawn, he lit the remaining three sticks of sandalwood, and he and Wu Ruyi began to sort out the relics in the side courtyard.

Zhan Yuanzi left behind a lot of things, which took up two empty rooms, and ninety-nine percent of them were paintings.

The Broken Sword "Lingshu" is the most important among them, and was temporarily kept as an evidence by the Prosecution Bureau.

Hong and Fan just moved the paintings.

Carefully unfolded, browsed hastily, rolled up and packed into boxes.

There are 420 pieces in total.

Hong Fan kept only one painting privately.

Painted in the Mid-Autumn Festival last year.

The five-foot-wide painting has the theme of the moon and people during the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Among them, the lake under the moon, the pavilion by the lake, and the people in the pavilion are all fully painted, the only difference is a full moon.

The full moon is only one month apart, and the Mid-Autumn Moon is only one year apart.

What separates us is forever.

Wu Hongling arrived at around eight o'clock, bringing soy milk buns, nanmu coffins, and three carriages.

Those who pull the cart are all dark horses.

There were no firecrackers to clear the way, and the convoy set off in silence.

Those carrying the coffin are in front, and those carrying the paintings are behind.

Hong Fan and Wu Ruyi were walking beside them.

Two quarters of an hour later, the team exited Chaoyang Gate in the east of Xijing City.

Another hour passed, and we passed the first human settlement.

The twilight at the turn of winter and spring cast a heavy light on the low-rise village.

Suddenly, Hong Fan felt that he was walking through the deep seabed, and the lofty sky was the surface of the sea that was difficult to reach.

He looked back at Zhan Yuanzi's coffin and felt suffocated like drowning.

The east wind blows in the new year.

Hong Fan shuddered.

In two lifetimes, this was the coldest wind he had ever experienced.

The team did not stop at noon, and they were provided with dry food for lunch.

Five hours after setting off, the horse was extremely tired. Only Hong Fan generously added money, so the owner endured the pain and drove on.

The convoy entered Zhan County at this time.

Wu Hongling didn't know the specific address.

But fortunately, the county town is not big. They easily found the place by asking "Da Lang of the Zhan family who works as a Tiqi in Xijing".

Zhan's house is not small. There are people at home and the courtyard door is open.

The person receiving the reception was Zhan Huizi, the younger brother of Zhan Yuanzi.

He is about thirty years old and has a mustache. He only knows that his brother went to Xijing to become a Tiqi, but he does not recognize Jin Haihongfan.

Suddenly hearing the bad news, Zhan Huizi was surprised at first, and then lowered his eyes in silence for a while.

After digesting for a moment, he did not immediately report back. Instead, he stopped his servants from crying too quickly and moved things with Hong Fan and others.

The front yard of Zhan's house is spacious, with plum trees on both sides. Its pollen is white and its fragrance is light.

After several trips back and forth, more and more people gathered outside the house.

Their gossip finally came to an end.

Two old men in their sixties and with white hair came out.

It goes without saying that they are Zhan Yuanzi's parents.

His father used a cane and had difficulty walking. He had a solemn face and was dressed in a black satin cotton coat.

The wrinkles between his brows were deep, like ravines carved out by heavy rains on the hard ground over the years.

On the contrary, his mother's steps were vigorous.

They didn't know their eldest son was dead.

Father Zhan arrived at the front yard, looked at the outsiders in the yard, and called the middle-aged housekeeper.

"who's stuff?"

he asked, angry.

"It's a painting sent back by the uncle."

The housekeeper was stunned for a moment, lowered his head and replied.

Hearing this, Mother Zhan grinned slightly.

After the paintings were sent back, people naturally came back to live there.

She concealed her happy expression and glanced at her husband quietly.

Father Zhan looked angry and disgusted.

"Some waste paper can't be sold for a few taels of silver, so why bring it back?"

He said loudly, with a joyous feeling of victory.

"He is in Xijing and there has been no news from him for several years."

"You want to send something back without sending someone to notify him first? Xijing is Xijing and Zhan County is Zhan County. Who knows which one he is?"

At this time, Zhan Huizi happened to come in from outside holding a wooden box.

When Father Zhan saw his youngest son, he stopped taunting him and just held his head high.

In a short period of time, the wrinkles on his face seemed to have become lighter.

Hong Fan and Wu Hongling were also in the courtyard.

This time I came to report my funeral.

However, they looked at each other and couldn't speak, as if they had suddenly lost the ability to speak.

"Who are you two?"

It was Zhan Yuanzi's mother who asked the question.

"We are Brother Zhan's teammates in Tiqi, and this is Si Ye of our team."

Hong Fanqiang smiled and replied.

"Oh, that's a really distinguished guest!"

Mother Zhan wiped her hands on the hem of her clothes.

Her mind was already occupied by other emotions, and she could not immediately see the reluctance on their faces.

But Father Zhan noticed some disharmony.All the paintings on the two carts have been moved in.

"Why are there so many people outside?"

He didn't know why he changed the topic, he just muttered dissatisfiedly.

"What is there to watch?"

Zhan Huizi stood aside, finally slumped and walked out.

After a while, a car parked outside the hospital and carrying a coffin was brought in.

The two old men immediately understood what had happened.

All the relaxation and happiness in the courtyard were extinguished at this moment.

Mother Zhan opened her eyes blankly and looked at Wu Hongling.

When her mother staggered, Zhan Huizi rushed up to hold her up.

"How could it be? Dalang is a Tiqi, and he is in the realm of harmony!"

the old lady asked, trying to refuse to believe it.

"he……"

Hong Fan only said one word and choked up.

Talking at this time is more painful than taking medicine.

"Is this your brother's coffin?"

Father Zhan ignored the strangers and turned his head to ask Zhan Huizi.

He struggled to hold on to the crutches, but he was swaying and still standing.

Zhan Huizi was forced to nod.

"Ah, have I told you before? I had expected it!"

He chuckled and raised his chin, as if he had lost, but also as if he had won.

It must have been a miserable victory.

"Uncle, these paintings are Brother Zhan's relics. He has accumulated 410 martial arts points, which are converted into four thousand and one hundred taels of silver. They are sent back together."

Hong Fan finished speaking with difficulty and handed over the banknote.

Father Zhan turned his head and looked at Hong Fan seriously for a moment, then motioned for Zhan Huizi to take it.

He moved to the coffin and touched it gently.

People outside the courtyard had even crowded to the door and were still looking in.

The old man suddenly stared over.

"You have watched our husband and wife have fun for half your life, haven't you seen enough?!"

The roar was hoarse and hysterical, scaring everyone away in an instant.

"Go and close the door!"

he gasped to the butler.

The words lost their vitality, like old and decayed trees that have been eaten away for a long time, but once they encounter heavy rain, they collapse from the inside.

The courtyard door is closed.

Father Zhan struggled to straighten his breath and turned to look at Hong Fan.

"You are Hong Fan, you just joined the team this year, right."

he asked in an affirmative tone.

But Hong Fan didn't have time to name him yet.

"Did he get that pen instead?"

Father Zhan asked again.

Hong Fan shook his head.

"Hehe, a boy who can't do anything well..."

Father Zhan chuckled, turned around, and patted the coffin gently.

The courtyard fell silent.

There was only the intermittent sobs of the old lady.

"Can the things in your Wuxun Pavilion be bought with silver?"

After a long time, Zhan's father suddenly asked.

Hong Fan gritted his teeth, not knowing how to reply.

As a warrior, from this distance he could easily hear the sound of tears falling on the ground.

"I'm sorry, I made a mistake."

Father Zhan couldn't wait to answer, so he choked the last sentence and staggered back to the backyard.

From beginning to end, no one asked about the cause of death.

Zhan Huizi invited everyone to stay overnight.

But Hong Fan insisted on leaving.

When we set out on our return journey, there were only a few people left in the funeral procession.

After a journey of seventy miles, the horses pulling the carriage were exhausted. If they did not rest for a night in the county, they would probably die from exhaustion on the road.

The team owner had no complaints - he got three times the reward.

It's getting late.

Xijing City is in the northwest of Zhan County.

The official line is straight.

Walking quickly on it, it seems like you are chasing the dusk.

After all, dusk cannot catch up.

Soon after, even the sunset glow dissipated, and the entire blue-black sky hung down.

The world fell into silence, as if falling into the bottom of the sea.

Hong Fan walked at the front without saying a word.

Wu Ruyi struggled to light the lantern with a fire sickle.

The snow beneath the cage reflected the firelight, while the areas further away were still covered in soft darkness.

She stepped up her pace, ignoring the goosebumps all over her body, and rushed forward to light the way.

The snow started to melt and it was very cold.

What was even colder was the killing intent emanating from Hong Fan.

(End of this chapter)