I collect cultural relics in the human world

Chapter 239 It’s Her (Part )

Qin Jian slowly handed the sculptured barn jar in his hand to He Si. She did not take it, but stretched out her index finger to touch it. The coolness that had been silent for a thousand years spread along her fingertips and seeped into her body little by little, but she did not dodge. For some reason, a desire suddenly surged in her heart, urging her to put her fingertips closer. I don't know if it was because of the warmth from her fingertips, a wisp of milky white smoke actually escaped from the mouth of the celadon jar. It looked like mist, but the bottom was heavy. It did not rise up, but flowed down the bottle like water. He Si shrank involuntarily, and her fingertips moved away from the bottle. As if aftertaste, she rubbed her index finger with her thumb again, and a trace of warmth emerged from the cold background. This temperature was lighter than the white mist in front of her, floating and misty, and negligence could not be seen.

"Is this...your wandering memory?"

"More than that, it belongs to both of us."

The two did not speak again. Under their feet, the ink marks that were nowhere to be found were like fog, spreading along the ground, just like the dusk. The memories that flowed from the sculpture barn jar floated on the ink. White and black met unexpectedly in this boundless time and space. At first, the black and white were distinct, but the dark colors were more, and their thickness seemed to swallow up the rest of the colors. But gradually, it was the white that invaded, slowly spreading, silently, stirring up a ripple in the still world.

Under this clear-cut fusion, the black also takes on a faint warm luster, while the white becomes softer and more layered, like the low humming that has settled in the long river of history, a memory that has been forgotten but hidden in their bones.

The ink color changed, and He Si realized that a white hand had grabbed the ink, clenched it, and then splashed it into the sky, splashing ink into a painting. Before she could see the ink painting slowly unfolding in front of her, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest, as if someone had poured boiling iron liquid into her throat. The burning sensation condensed into an iron block at the position of her heart, turning into a heavy, dull pain that made her unable to breathe.

He Si struggled, feeling heavy and empty, and a huge hole appeared in her chest. The cold wind rushed into her body from the hole, and her heart cooled faster than she could imagine. Soon, the iron block condensed into ice in her chest, and the biting cold spread to her limbs with the beating of the machine. The dull pain turned into a sharp pain, and her limbs creaked.

The warmth in her palm disappeared, and the person holding her hand disappeared. He Si ignored the test of ice and fire and struggled to open her eyes. She saw the girl kneeling on the ground and the body in her arms that had stopped breathing, within reach but far away. Her brain had not yet recovered until the light yellow color stained with blood came into her sight. She remembered that it was the token of their love. Then she realized that the sudden torture just now was the feeling of heartache.

He Si had seen everything that happened afterwards. The girl tied the yellow color back on her lover's armor, then pulled the arrow out of his chest. The bright red blood on her palm blended with the black blood scab on the boy's wound, but she didn't notice it at all. After doing all this, she placed the bronze mirror she carried with her on the boy's chest wound and rested her head on it.

The last illusion ended here. He Si remembered that she watched the girl's chest stop rising and falling. The lovers who could not be together in life finally embraced each other on this bloody battlefield. It was sad and beautiful. So when He Si saw the girl suddenly move and stand up again, she couldn't help but be startled.

It turns out that the story has not yet ended.

The girl managed to stand still, looked around, and blew a whistle. With a melodious whistle, the dark horse not far away raised its hooves and galloped over, stopping steadily beside the girl.

White clothes, black horse, blood-stained ground, yellow flying sand, He Si looked at the painting in front of her and forgot to breathe. The girl had already moved. She put the bronze mirror back to her chest, leaned over and pulled the boy's body, over and over again, as if she wanted to drag the body onto the horse's back. But the physique difference was too big. She tried several times but failed, but she was busy sweating in the cold autumn wind. The girl didn't care about the blood all over her body. She raised her arm to wipe the sweat on her forehead, turned around and waved to her mount: "Xiao Hei, help me."

She touched the horse's neck with a calm expression, there was no fear or pain in her voice, and her tear-red eyes blinked. The horse opposite also blinked its lively eyes, as if it understood her words. It walked a few slow steps to the corpse, bent its front legs, and knelt down.

Before He Si could be surprised, she saw the girl squatting down again, carefully taking off the young general's broken armor, but keeping the goose yellow sachet, cleaning the blood on his face, and then adjusting the position. She lowered her head and bent over, holding the boy's armpits with both hands, bending her whole body into a bow shape, biting her teeth and pursing her lips, and actually dragged the boy up.

But she was not arrogant. After the boy's head rested on the horse's back, she let go of him and sat on the ground, leaning on the horse and man to rest for a while, and then started the previous steps again. Time and time again, little by little, she actually dragged the boy onto the horse's back. Then, she patted the horse's butt, and after two snorts, the horse slowly stood up with the boy on its back.

"Thank you." The scarred hand stroked from the horse's head to its back and stopped in front of the corpse. A smile suddenly appeared at the corner of the girl's mouth, and even her eyebrows were curved like rippling water.

He Si reached out her hand, wanting to touch that fragile yet strong smile, but the girl had already turned around, leading the horse and trekking north. He Si could see the mountains stretching out on the horizon, and she didn't have time to think about it, so she hurriedly followed.

Time passed quickly in the illusion. They didn’t know how long they had been trekking, but when the sky got light again, they had already reached the mountains.

In front of him was a wild temple that had long since lost its incense. The overgrown weeds and the abandoned temple indicated that this place was sparsely populated. If one wanted to escape from the world, it would be a good place. On the other hand, since there was a temple, it meant that there were at least people living here. If one could walk another dozen miles, perhaps one could find a market town and have the resources to survive. He Si looked at everything that seemed familiar, and her heart moved, and she had a vague guess.

Sure enough, the girl walked into the temple, looked around, came to the door, searched for a long time, and stopped in front of a tree.

From dawn to dusk, the girl dug and dug, and when the last bit of dry food and water was consumed, she finally dug a deep pit the size of a person, and her lover was finally buried. When she finally buried the soil, she originally put the bronze mirror on the boy's chest, but after thinking about it, she bent down and replaced the bronze mirror with a light yellow sachet.

After everything was ready, she returned to the temple, placed the mirror on the altar, and lay down on the worn-out cushion and fell asleep.