Haomai Xiansheng

Chapter 1

A monk lies in a ruined temple.There are nine ring scars on the bald head, the monk's robe is dirty and black with patches, it is almost a patchwork robe, and there are a pair of monk's shoes on the black feet, this is of course a monk.

The roof of the temple is all dilapidated, like a rag that has been washed thousands of times, and the original oil paint cannot be seen clearly.Half of the altar collapsed, and the red and colorful goddess statue was eroded by time and indifference. It changed from a beautiful and noble fairy goddess to a dying empress.The murals of the Heavenly Palace behind the altar, the colorful paintings of Qingluan surrounding the altar, and the fairy boys and girls lined up on both sides of the altar have all decayed in the endless years.

The monk quietly looked at the painted paintings on the beams: this is a temple built within 14 years, because 14 years ago it was the border of an enemy country.This temple once shined brilliantly and became the pillar of people's hearts in this barren borderland. Maybe there are some young people who are in love with Goddess as the object of their love, but now, this temple can't even protect themselves from the wind. . The self 14 years ago was just a knight-errant who galloped across the border between the two countries.

The monk shook his head and smiled contemptuously.Picking up a piece of dry, hard and tasteless hybrid noodle pancake, he bit off a little bit with great effort, chewed it slowly, and swallowed it with his saliva.When I close my eyes, I can still recall the appearance at that time, the young and arrogant face under the vertebral cap, the emerald green clothes on the bay red BMW floating in the flying sand, even though everything is dusty, only the knife in my hand is always bright Dazzling, as fast as thunder and as fast as lightning.

The statue on the altar is just like this monk, with dirty and torn clothes.The pastels on the statue's face were mottled after the wind and rain, and like this dark monk, the face could not be seen clearly.

The statue was missing an arm, perhaps thrown off by a stoned urchin, or chopped off by a villain in a show of audacity.

Ah, that arm used as a pillow under the monk's scarred head.

The swarthy monk, wearing a monk's robe that has been washed and mended again and again, looks like an ascetic monk, even if he is not an eminent monk, he is also a poor and simple monk.A pair of mill-soled Baina shoes with dirty toes exposed.Her body, face, and hands were all dirty, and she couldn't tell her true color, her age, let alone her gender.Under the bald head, only two sparse eyebrows can be seen. Under the eyebrows are a pair of closed eyes with short eyelashes that seem to have been shaved off.

Outside the dilapidated temple, the cold wind howled, the ground was full of weeds, and one or two thin sparrows were singing feebly among the sparse sick trees.The silence in which all things wither.The gate of the temple is half-covered, and in this miserable wilderness, a gap in the gate of this dilapidated and dangerous temple seems to imply a crisis, but it is nothing more than normal.

The monk closes his eyes, closes his eyes, and thinks.

Three days and seven hours ago, I slept on the gold-painted Baizi Babu bed, in the gold tent with my daughter's newly embroidered little purse, on the softest velvet mandarin duck pillow, covered with a thin gauze that seemed to not exist quilt.In the crevice on the inside of the bed, put a short knife in the most suitable place for drawing a knife.On the carpet beside the bed were four female warriors who were on duty for the night. When it was cold, someone would close the windows, when it was hot, someone would fan them, when they coughed, someone would bring warm water, and when they got up at night, someone would bring a pail.

Now fleeing in embarrassment in the barren mountains.

The monk's robe was lifted, revealing the bandage on his abdomen.There was a bloody smell in the air, almost deadly.

The monk didn't seem to feel any pain on his body, his face was calm and silent, showing a contemplative expression, and his downcast eyes trembled from time to time, showing that he was still alive.Because there are no other signs of life, the breathing is low and inaudible, and the body does not move for more than an hour.

Think, think hard.Now he can't do anything except think.

Why am I in this situation?Because of the injury.Who hurt me?It is a husband, a beloved man who knows and loves, a husband who was raised by himself and his younger brother.Why did the husband kill himself?I don't know, the husband has no dissatisfaction, there is no interest issue between the husband and wife, and the relationship is very affectionate. I have not blocked his way, and he has no room for improvement.Even if he wants to be the emperor, he doesn't have to kill me. His power, status and favor make him already the emperor.Killing himself wouldn't do him any good.

The question is why did he kill himself?There is no answer.

Any woman who has been stabbed through the abdomen by her husband who has been together for more than 20 years and has been married for more than ten years and has a deep relationship for more than ten years, does not die, but loses her thinking ability for a few days, or is so upset that she cannot think about problems, this is very normal.

But Fang Diji doesn't think she's normal. A normal woman can't achieve her achievements, can't do what she can do, and can't match her husband.

Therefore, she can't analyze why her husband is doing this now, which is a failure.After three days, I still can't analyze it, which is a very failure.She can't tolerate the slightest failure in herself.Because in her life, the vast majority of failures meant not worrying and not thinking about anything—death.

Yes, this bald, dark and ugly monk with his seriously injured belly exposed is a woman.

It was a noble, elegant, graceful and luxurious woman two days ago.She has more power and bearing than the queen, and has the same status and honor as the princess.High carts and four horses, light fur and wide mansions, enjoy the highest wealth in the world.

Even now, she holds in her mouth a rare treasure that is hard to buy, the 'Peace Bead'. This is a gem that can hang people's lives, so that seriously injured people can recover and live as long as they don't starve to death, thirst or rot. Orb.What was smeared on her abdomen was the last bottle of golden sore medicine left by the God of Medicine, and the efficacy of the medicine was naturally thousands of times higher than other golden sore medicines.And the white cloth that wrapped the wound was a fire raccoon cloth that was rarely seen in the palace. It was thrown into the fire without any damage but was completely washed by the flames.The dry, hard-to-swallow pancake is actually a kind of pill that satisfies the stomach and replenishes qi and blood, a cake-shaped pill.

Because of this, she was able to live for another three days and seven hours after being pierced through the abdomen and cut her spine by the poisonous sword... now it is eight hours.

She moved with difficulty, supported her upper body with her arms, and barely looked outside the door.It was still desolate outside the door. Fortunately, there were no wolves and no wild animals here. All the wild animals were eaten up by the poor people living here, and not even a mouse was seen.Otherwise, the seriously injured and paralyzed self can only rely on the smell of the medicine powder to avoid the end of being gnawed alive.

I have to say, sons, the former young masters and now major generals took good care of my injuries.Such a thoughtful child is probably taken care of by someone now.

What next?No, I can't do anything. With my current injuries, even if I escape to the enemy country to receive assistance and treatment, I will be placed under house arrest and used as a weak and incompetent person.What's more, my identity... Once I enter the enemy's country, all forces and forces remaining in my country will be monitored and prepared to be killed.

Now there are a few options.One, if I keep on living, maybe the last adoptive son will die, and maybe I won’t live long, but I won’t let the husband who hurt me be unharmed.Two, give everything to Wang Gan, let him live on my behalf, take revenge on my behalf, and kill my husband on my behalf.[-]. Going to die generously, saving Wang Qian's life, but letting Chen Liang, Jin Heiniang and Shi Niangzi die in vain.

A young man dressed as a hunter walked in quickly, carrying two thin, bald old sparrows and a bundle of dry firewood in his hands.He has a strong military spirit, his face is covered with dust, and the corners of his eyes are tired, but he can't hide his ability and domineering. "Godfather, there are only two gadgets, one for each person."

"You've eaten all of it. I have pills and that's enough." The monk's voice was hoarse and dry: "I've run out of water."

The boy frowned slightly: "I didn't find any water." He shook the skin bag on his waist, and there was no water in it either.Skillfully made a hole in the sparrow's neck, controlled the blood to drip into a small gold bowl that he carried with him, brought it to the monk's mouth, held the scarred head, and fed half the bowl of blood.Although blood is not water, it is better than nothing. After Fang Diji drank it, she felt less thirsty.Seeing that the expression on her face was more comfortable, the young man happily helped her to lie down gently, then quickly raised the bowl and opened his mouth wide, taking a few drops of blood from the bottom of the bowl into his mouth.Then lightly burn the sparrows in the downwind.

"I can't bear you for my mother." Fang Diji's hoarse voice drifted lightly in the dilapidated temple: "Although I didn't have an ordinary childhood, I also know that a young man like you is just carefree, wielding a sword. When the rivers and lakes taste poems and dissertations sleep in flowers and sleep in willows."