[Demon Slayer: Blade] The fiancé is always incompetent and furious

In this world, there are many things that are born once and cooked twice.

Death is no exception.

In the time when I was born, the epidemic spread and people were like grass.Although the nobles in the capital lived a seemingly pampered life, they could not escape the shadow of tuberculosis and other diseases, and they often passed away before the age of 35.

When I experienced death for the first time, I was just full.

I am not dying of disease.

Contrary to my parents who passed away early, I have never had a cold since I can remember, and I can still be alive and kicking in the freezing cold winter, with amazing energy.

In that era when human life was short like a candle in the wind, I was an out-and-out freak.

However, apart from the fact that my body is too healthy, I have no other shining points - family, appearance, conversation, knowledge, no matter which standard I choose, I just barely struggle above and below the passing line. Not to mention outstanding.

My mother said, I just want to be happy.

So I didn't cry when she left.

Because I didn't cry, those who thought I was weird at first became more and more convinced that I was weird by nature.

I don't like poetry, I don't like sad autumn and spring, I don't raise my sleeves to wipe away tears when I see falling flowers, and I'm always slow to respond when singing songs. Even the stones in the courtyard are more humane than me, and I know what elegance is.

Some things are so illogical. I obviously lost my mother, but just because I didn't show the sadness I should have in front of others, I was pointed at behind my back.

Reputation is as important as life to people living in society, and to women, it is like a knife hanging over their heads all the time.

If I hadn't already been engaged, maybe until my death, there would be no such thing as a fiancé.

Hey, did I just use the word stuff?

Don't mind such small details.

Besides, why not call your fiancé a thing?

You are a thing, I am a thing, everyone is a thing, and there is no difference in the end.Just like your life is your life, so is my life.

People who can't understand this, people who think that their family or themselves are superior to others...

Wait, this seems to be talking about my fiancé—ex-fiancé, to be precise.

My ex-fiancé came from a big family with a long history, the kind who stomped his feet casually, and the elite circle in the capital would be shocked.

Why did my father, who is an ordinary civil servant, even take the initiative to ask for a marriage? I have to start with my ex-fiancé's physique.

To put it mildly, my ex-fiancé was pretty, very, extra frail.

Since he suffered from a terminal illness in his youth, he has been living in a mansion surrounded by thick bamboo curtains and with a brazier burning all year round.

When others go out for an outing, he stays in the house.

When others recite poems and make right, he stays in the house.

When the Holy Majesty passed away and the political situation was in chaos, he still stayed in the house isolated from the world.

Can't see the wind, can't go out, and can't even stay in the sunny and warm courtyard for a long time. The man who was once the favorite of heaven has become fragile and useless porcelain. abandoned.

In order to restore my dying fiancé to health, I, who has nothing but physical fitness, was chosen by strange fate.

I was exactly ten years old when we made the marriage contract.

When I was ten years old, in order to catch a glimpse of my fiancé who was said to be frail and sick, I learned to climb over the wall.

When I successfully climbed over the wall for the first time, I was kicked out by his servants.He stayed in the house the whole time, and the bamboo curtains under the eaves were rarely rolled up. At a glance, he could only see a thin figure, with black hair like seaweed, with charming and curly arcs.

I began to climb over the wall frequently, and my father turned a blind eye to it.

When my father passed away right after my mother, I was taken to live in this fiancé's mansion, and there was no longer any need to climb over the wall.

I was 14 years old that year.

Aristocratic couples in that era seldom lived together. The two usually had their own mansions and would only meet at night. This form of marriage was called "wife-visiting marriage" by later generations.

The problem is that I'm not a nobleman, and my fiancé is in a special situation. According to his family's intentions, it seems that I, the mascot, would like to stay by his side more often, so as to drive away his illness.

The room filled with the smell of medicine has become the place I am most familiar with.

His family didn't visit often, and they were afraid of being contaminated with filth, which was taboo for people at that time, and the servants and maids never stayed in the room for a long time.I, a freak who doesn't get sick, naturally became the closest person to him.

This intimacy is self-proclaimed.

In winter, the wind and snow in the capital is extremely cold, and it is simply a disaster-like test for the frail and sick.

I surrounded the room with wooden boards, which were tightly closed to prevent the cold wind from getting in. There are braziers in every corner of the house. The fire inside must not be extinguished and must be watched at all times.

The previous winter was very difficult.Cotton has not yet been popularized, and people's clothes are not cold-proof, and sometimes they still feel flimsy even if they are covered with more than ten layers of thin cloth.

Every year, many people freeze to death inside and outside the capital.

In order to prevent my fiancé from becoming one of those "many people", I would often get up in the middle of the night, in the dark where I can't see anything, quietly touch his pulse, measure his temperature, and make sure He's still breathing.

He's always breathing.

My fiancé has an extraordinary obsession with being alive, and I sometimes suspect that what he is passionate about is not being alive itself, but something else.

The emotion projected on this other thing, if we must give it a name, it may be called unwillingness.

Or rather, anger.

That cold anger was well hidden under his handsome appearance. No matter who has seen his elegant manners and extraordinary conversation, it is hard to imagine that this person has another face.

At 16, my fiancé's condition took a turn for the worse.It was obviously getting better before, but suddenly it took a sharp turn for the worse.

I remember that it was broad daylight, around lunch time, and the best doctor in the capital came to see him.He was a very kind-hearted doctor, who would write down detailed medical orders every time, hand over the medicinal materials wrapped in oil paper to me, and told me to pay attention to his condition and take good care of his body.

There was a sound in the room, something heavy fell down.I opened the door, and the smiling doctor's head was split open with a knife, and he fell limply on the ground.

The floor was wet with dark red blood, and the hand of my frail fiancé who threw the knife was still in the air, his knuckles were trembling and convulsing, and his eyes seemed to be eating people.

I could have had a chance.

At that time, I would have had the opportunity.

"do not Cry."

My fiancé spoke softly, cupping my face in the hand that just killed someone.

When did I fall to the ground?I do not remember.

As for when the tears came down, by the time I realized it, my vision was so blurred that I couldn't see anything clearly.

"Shh," he said, "don't be afraid."

The hand touching my cheek was warning me to keep quiet.

But it wasn't the emotion of fear that was tearing open in my chest.

For a moment, I didn't even know who I was crying for, as if there was an insurmountable line that completely collapsed at this moment.

My fiancé put on his usual face again, as if the blood around him and the corpses lying on the ground didn't exist, a smile floated on his pale face.

But I see it.There was another face, growing out from that gentle and refined expression, like some kind of poison out of the ground, covered with thorns and crazy flowers.

"You have to help me."

"Don't tell anyone else, okay?"

"Just like you only have me, I only have you." He pretended to be tender, but his eyes were lying, and so was his heart.

I said, "You can't do that."

But he has been, and he always has been.

A small doctor, disappearing from the capital will not attract the attention of others.

The only imprint left was a pool of dark color on the wooden floor.

I wiped the pool of blood for a long time.

Leave it alone if it can't be wiped clean.My fiancé said to me.

By that time he had made a miraculous recovery.He was no longer sick in bed, but put on his court clothes again, and went in and out of the vermilion palace gate every day, posing as an elegant and noble son in front of everyone, and he was in incredible health.

But I knew that he was beginning to be afraid of the sun, and that when he looked at other people, his eyes would be stained with a frenzied look that was close to hunger.

His appetite began to gradually decrease, but his behavior did not become sluggish or weak.

The people around me didn't seem to notice anything about it. People disappeared one after another in the capital, and no one suspected my fiancé.

except me.

One night, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night.There was no sign of him in the room.I put on my coat and walked out of the mansion. The pale moonlight swept across the empty streets of the capital, and the shadows of dark clouds walked along the walls like ghosts.

When I saw him on the bridge in the outskirts of Beijing, he was throwing the eaten corpses down.

The faceless, once-human thing rolled over the bridge rail like a rag bag and disappeared into the dark river.

"No misery."

When I was ten years old, I learned that I had a fiancé, and his name was Mumai Tsuji.

I sneaked over the wall to see him, thinking to myself, how could someone call Wu Mi?

It's a miserable name.

People on the bridge cast a glance.That is no longer the eyes of a human being.

That night was the last time I saw him.

After that, my fiancé disappeared.Mess is an understatement to describe the mess he left behind.

His family, colleagues, political enemies, people I have met and people I haven't seen, seem to pop up at the same time.They couldn't believe it, they were full of suspicion, but the only one who firmly believed was me. I must be the only person who knew his whereabouts. It was impossible for him to really leave the capital and just walk away.

Their judgments were wrong, but at the same time they were right.

Gui Wu Tsuji Wu Mi did not leave the capital.

During the years he disappeared, he created other ghosts.One of the ghosts did not know what happened, but it appeared at the wedding banquet of Zhong Nayan's daughter.

I generally never go to these events and have no interest in sitting behind a screen with a fan covering my face all night.But at that time there were rumors that someone saw Ghost Dance Tsuji Wumi who had disappeared for two years near Luocheng Gate.The person who spread the rumor was none other than the daughter of the Zhongnayan family who got married that night.

"It's just a rumor."

I clearly told myself this in my heart, but it was unprecedented, and I chose to go to a banquet for the first time.

The screens were overturned, and the screams of the guests quickly turned to screams.Black and red blood splattered out, and the ghost ate a few mouthfuls of its wriggling and struggling prey, and suddenly met my gaze.

Before the tragedy of that night, human beings did not know that ghosts existed in the world.

I died that year.

I was eaten alive by ghosts.

The author has something to say: only one chapter in the Heian era

Next cut the map

not finished.

There are still several lifetimes [.

The Blade of Ghost Slayer is so beautiful, I can't control my hand that wants to open a hole

The crumb boss is really too crumbly, it’s just crumbly

……Write!