[Short Stories in Troubled Times] Caiwei

He curled up on the bed, biting his bloodless lower lip lightly, enduring the sadness and pain raging in his body.

The season of recovery.The sun shining through the window was warm and bright, but he weakly wrapped his arms around his skinny shoulders, trembling like a dead leaf swaying in the sharp wind, and his whole body was covered with the coldness that penetrated into the bone marrow like being in a world of ice and snow.

The door hinge creaked, and the old man next door opened the door and came in, put the steaming soup in his hand on the desk, sighed, and stretched out his hand to help him up, but the old hand stopped stiffly when it approached the blood red all over his lips .

He barely showed a pale smile, and struggled to stand up, but his hands trembled and he couldn't use his strength. The old man hurried forward to support him, but he saw his lips opened and closed, whispering something weakly.

"I'm sorry... I broke my promise." His voice was hoarse beyond recognition. Looking at the sky with white clouds flowing outside the window, he smiled softly with tears, "I might...can't wait for the next ten years."

The aroma of medicine permeates the air heavily.In the desolation and dilapidation of the room, there is only the line of inscriptions on the jade stone on the desk that seems to grow naturally in the jade, and it is as shocking as a dragon.

"I used to go, Yangliu Yiyi. Now I come to think, rain and snow. The road is slow, thirsty and hungry. My heart is sad, I don't know I am sad!"

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Xiong is retreating steadily.

Mo Xingtian will hold the soil in his hands.The enemy's banner fluttered northward, but he did not stare at the retreating enemy formation, but turned his gaze to the far south.

ten years.That small ball of green and white coldly pressed against the closed palm, and after years of caressing, it became more and more radiant.

He is now the coach.Chongwu died in battle, and the master was sent back to the city after a serious injury—that was the time, the veteran who was seriously injured could no longer wield the sword, gun, sword and halberd in his hand.

There are many unfamiliar faces in the military camp.Discrete, come and go, all in one place, clean and tidy.

The little mute back then has turned into a young general Jiang Shaoqing with considerable military exploits.At night, with his chin resting on his cheek, he held the tasseled spear left by Gongsun Chongwu and looked at the direction of the chaotic tombs behind the camp when he was stationed in the distance.

The prestige of General Mo has already spread.All the subordinates said that Mr. Mo's temperament became colder day by day.Everyone respects him, and everyone fears him. No one sits by the fire with him and chats leisurely. Gift.

He was tired, really tired.

All I could see was the desolate desert and the smoke of gunpowder everywhere.I can't see the catkins flying all over the sky, and I can't hear the "Xing Tian" with the cool laughter.

Qin Song.You know that Xing Tian puts the safety buckle next to his pillow every night, and covers it with his palm. The next morning, the cold jade has been covered with warmth, just like the heat of body temperature.

Fighting in a distant place, this idea is really, really very satisfying.Because of it, Mo Xingtian was ridiculed severely by everyone, "Xiaosong is the little daughter-in-law of the family". He once held it to show off his treasure at another celebration party, and made the intelligence agent who had been thinking about his wife cry. He once shook it Coaxed a baby-faced soldier to sleep, making him stop suicidal thoughts.That translucent blue and white is as pure as the person sitting among the branches and leaves. He sat on the tree and called him with a smile, and threw himself into his arms without hesitation... In the blood-stained years, only it is clean of.

Until it was shattered by a sharp knife swung by the enemy in a bloody battle to kill the enemy.

In the twelfth lunar month of winter, there was heavy snow outside the camp.

Pain like a burst in the brain.Mo Xingtian slowly opened his eyes.

Consciousness gradually returned, and the right leg was numb from the knee down, unable to move, unable to move, it seemed that it was no longer a part of the body.He slowly raised himself up.

Jiang Shaoqing, who was busy at the side, heard the noise, immediately put down the decoction in his hand, and stepped forward to help Mo Xingtian get up.After Gongsun Chongwu's death, no one could understand his hand gestures anymore. In the past three years, he has become more and more reticent, and occasionally communicates with people only through writing, like now——

"Master Mo." Fingers moved in Mo Xingtian's palm, Jiang Shaoqing lowered his eyes, "How do you feel now? Are you okay?"

Mo Xingtian's memories gradually came back to his mind.

Blood, fighting, neighing of horses.For ten years, he took the lead in the charge, and he remembered that the weapon in his hand pierced the heart of the enemy general, and the pain exploded all over his body, and the blood soaked his uniform...until the darkness covered his vision.

"It's all right, Lord Mo, you can rest easy and recuperate." The writing in the palm continued, "I just received Yushu, it's for you, you agreed before, I'll read it for you, I haven't had time to tell everyone. The army has withdrawn, the battle... is over."

Two drops of warm liquid fell into the palm of his hand.

Mo Xingtian felt struck by lightning in his mind.

He was stunned, and repeatedly recalled the content of those words——

Withdrawal?

Battle, fight, finish, finished?

Finished...?

All the emotions that had been tempered and gradually numb rushed into my heart, and I was so sad and happy that I felt dizzy for a while. Mo Xingtian pulled the young people around him away, completely ignoring the sudden pain in his injured leg when he touched the ground. , staggering out of the tent, a biting cold wind rushed towards him——

Facing the astonished eyes of the sergeants, he panted, raised his head and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Xiaoxuan has withdrawn the army!! No more wars! No more wars!! We have won——!"

In my ears, the familiar voice of a young man came from afar, and I couldn't feel the sudden moment of silence around me, and I couldn't hear the scattered shouts and wails. In the heavy snow, Mo Xing pointed in the direction of his hometown, with his hands on his lips. By the side, just like Qin Song shouted in the rain ten years ago——

"We're going home—"

The carriage was driving on the rough and uneven mountain road.

Mo Xingtian rested his forehead on his bent knees, and quietly closed his eyes.

The wind and snow carry the journey.Bumpy along the way, the road ahead melted into the snowstorm, and it was so white that it was hard to see clearly.Cold, tired, hunger and thirst that I have long been used to, and the difficult return journey... After ten years of life and death disasters, it is easy to stay, is it not enough?Another torture on the way home.But even so, when the snowflakes fall on the skin, everyone's heart is full of hope for a cool and refreshing.We're going home, we're going home, we're finally going home...

The fat man who was in charge of the spoon broke three fingers, but he could still swing the spatula. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand with a silly smile.The second child of the Zhao family is left on the chaotic grave; how should I tell Uncle Li and Aunt Li, their only son is gone... On the way back to the hometown, the little mute from back then disappeared, where is Shaoqing?I told Mo Xingtian that he was going to stay in the army, and I heard that he was going to the capital with Chongwu's gun... I heard that Master also rested in the capital after he was out of work.

In the ears, there was a clear and clear laughter, which was the voice calling "Xing Tian!".In a blink of an eye, ten years have passed, and Komatsu is already in his twenties, right?How is he?is it going well?Still working as a craftsman, do you still love talking and laughing so much?Has he... married?

In the white snow, the outline of the small village can be vaguely seen...

Mo Xingtian supported his wife, and slowly set foot on the land where he had been away for ten years.

He could no longer ride the horse.His right leg was like a heavy burden, dragging behind him stiffly, step by step, moving forward slowly, but it didn't matter, he went home... he went home.

Immediately... I will see Xiaosong again.

A heart is as light as if it is about to fly.Don't leave, never leave again, he is the only one left, in this life, never leave again...

Ten years have washed the small village out of dilapidation.Countless desolation, countless people go to the empty building, when they left home, who stood among the willows to see him off?Now, the snow is falling, you see, I have won, and it is really Guan Ling who returns home...

Urgently walk to the familiar door.The heartbeat was tense for a while, Mo Xingtian stretched out his slightly trembling hand, and pushed——

There was a light click, and an iron lock on the door shook, but was still fastened tightly.

The heart was suddenly squeezed by an invisible force, and Mo Xingtian's hand that pushed the door froze in the air, stretching out in a daze, not knowing whether he should retract it or not.This is, how...

There was a slight sound of footsteps behind him, and a few old coughs dissipated in the wind. Mo Xingtian turned his head and saw a white-haired old man walking tremblingly.Mo Xingtian hurriedly took a few steps towards the old man, just about to ask, but saw the old man's cloudy old eyes widen suddenly when they touched his face.After looking Mo Xingtian up and down several times, the old man shook his head, slowly stepped back a few steps, raised his head and laughed and burst into tears:

"Good, good, good! Baby Qin Song, I finally waited for you to come back!"

Ten years later, Mo Xingtian and Qin Song finally met again.

A low mound rose from the snow-covered roadside.

In the heavy snow, a tall and straight Qinsong stands alone by the grave.As the cold wind blows, the shaking of the pine branches is like a soft laugh——

Mo Xingtian swayed a few times, and knelt down straight on the snow in front of the grave.

Behind him, the old man Xu Xu whispered hoarsely like a ghost:

"Father was arrested and served as a soldier, and he died in battle within two years. Mother and younger sister depended on him to support the family. Day after day, he was exhausted. One eye was sent to the military officials on the day father was taken away. It was broken... For ten years, I was alone, holding on desperately, until my younger sister got married, and my mother was forced to remarry by her family...

"People often ask... who is this handsome young man waiting for, until he died of illness... he was always alone..."

A huge piece of white jade was held by two old hands, and it was handed to Mo Xingtian: "This is what he has practiced since he was five years old, when he just knew how to hold a jade knife. give you……"

White and delicate like suet, the flat jade surface without a trace of blemish, half of the bottom is covered with a lifelike welt that stretches in the wind. On it, faintly reflected the mighty figure of Xing Tian raising his relatives in the ancient mythology, a piece of cursive lettering that looks like a dragon written by a child who is just learning to write, is as free and easy as a dragon, and is amazingly beautiful, as if growing out of jade. Generally, neatly clothed on it——

Plucking Wei, Wei also stops.It is said to return, and the age is endless.Extravagant room extravagant home, because of the hunger.Not to mention Qiju, because of the hunger.

Plucking Wei, Wei is soft.Said to return, said to return, the heart is also anxious.Worry is fierce, hungry and thirst.I am undecided, and I will be hired.

Plucking Wei, Wei just stopped.Said to return, said to return.Wang Shi is extravagant, and he is not open to it.Worried and guilty, I can't do it!

Pervi Ho?Wei Changzhihua.What is Belus?The gentleman's car.Both the army and the four-mu industry.How dare to settle?Three wins in January.

Drive the other four males, four males.The gentleman depends on the villain.Four male wings, like a fish suit.Don't you quit daily?Lynx hole spines!

In the past, I have gone, Yang Liu Yiyi.Now let me think about it, rain and snow are falling.The road is late, full of thirst and hunger.I'm sad, don't know I'm sad!

The snow is falling more and more urgently.

There was silence between heaven and earth, Mo Xingtian covered his eyes with his arms, and remained silent for a long time, in front of the grave, in front of the people in the grave.

From the age of 15 to the age of 25, he waited for him for ten years, carefully burning the most vivid life in his life, and burning it all in the hopeless waiting...

Kneeling in the snow is an empty shell.The soul, already buried in that lonely tomb, is a vast expanse of whiteness, nothing, clean...

Snowflakes fell on the shoulders one after another.

After a while, Mo Xingtian put his hands down, looked at the grave, and slowly raised the corners of his mouth as he did to Qin Song in his arms.

He stretched out his hand, and gently brushed away the snow covered on the grave, then bent down, and gently pressed his lips on the cold grave.

"Xiaosong." He smiled softly and called in a low voice.

"I am back."

尾、

The battle of defending the frontiers of General Mo Tuixuan was lost in the long river of history.

It's just the ten-year frontier defense that can be seen everywhere in history books. After many years, no one remembers it anymore.

No one would know that the general guarding the border once had a father, an elder brother, a group of brothers who faced life and death together, and a person who accompanied him all his life after he was disarmed and returned home.

No one knows the small village full of willows, no one knows the name of the old man with a broken leg who guarded a grave until his death.No one knows who the person in the grave has been waiting for, spending the best years of his life.

People only know that the wild weed in the Xinjiang desert over there has withered and grown, and the green pines beside the country road are still green.

An insignificant life in troubled times, an insignificant story.

No one bothers to record.

——The end——