Southerners

Chapter 142 - Extra Story - Home and Prison

According to the Li family, when Song Zhi died, she had nothing but a porcelain cup from Fuliang Porcelain Bureau in her arms. The porcelain cup looked broken and was repaired by a skilled craftsman with gold leaf.They saw how precious he was, so they buried the porcelain cup with him, and asked him to take it with him after death, so that he could have a thought when he went to the underworld.

Before Song Zhi died, she ate a bowl of egg noodles, and the bowl was still put aside. She just watched the charcoal fire alone, curled up in the bed, and fell asleep peacefully, without suffering any other pain.

At the beginning of March, warblers sing and swallows sing, butterflies dance and bees fly, and the willows in the Pujiang River sprout new leaves, and the drizzle nourishes the earth. After a winter of dry and yellow ground, lush grass grows again.

Song Zhi was buried next to his mother in the outskirts of the city, and the funeral was organized by the Li family and the old gentleman from the private school.They were all people from the bottom of the society, they didn't have much money, but they still spent as much as they could to buy a nice coffin for Song Zhi. The stele was also carved by someone, and it said Mr. Song Zilan's tomb.

Because it is a new grave, the soil is still new after spring rain, and there is no grass.And beside Li Hansu and Xiuniang, deep spring grass has grown.

The house that Song Zhi rented was abandoned, no one lived in it, there was thick dust and cobwebs all over it, the Li family cleaned it up for Song Zhi, and found that Song Zhi's life was too poor, with only a few volumes of books and a few pens , a few pieces of paper, and the furniture are very old and creak when touched.

"I found this in the master's room. It is his relic. I think it was left for you, my lord." Mrs. Li handed a scroll of paintings to Meng Huan.

Meng Huan unfolded it and looked at it, only to understand why Mrs. Li said it was for herself, because he was painted on the painting.

In the painting, there are continuous mountains in the distance, hidden behind the misty clouds, and a meandering river nearby, with willow trees on the river bank, and the slender and soft paper strips of the willow trees are swaying in the wind. Then he lay lazily under the willow tree, with a book covering his face, as if he had fallen asleep.

Although he didn't show his face, the person lying down could be vaguely identified as Meng Huan by his figure.

Meng Huan looked at the inscription on the lower right corner, "Song Zilan, on the eighteenth day of the twelfth lunar month in the year of Guisi."

That is, the eighteenth day of the twelfth lunar month last year, Meng Huan thought back, what was he doing on the eighteenth day of the twelfth lunar month last year?At that time, he was still hesitating, he wanted to come to Song Zhi, but he was afraid that he would not see him, if he could come earlier, how could...

"My lord, my lord?" Mrs. Li called from the side, "What's wrong with you?"

Meng Huan's Adam's apple moved, and he said in a hoarse voice, "Go out, I want to stay here for a while."

Aunt Zhu is Song Zhi's neighbor. Looking at Meng Huan's expression, she remembered what Song Zhi had said to him last year, so she tentatively asked, "My lord, Mr. Song...are you the one you are talking about?"

Meng Huan rolled up the painting little by little, wiped his face, and asked in a low voice, "What did he say?"

Aunt Zhu said: "I wanted to tell my master about the marriage, but he said he had someone in his heart, so he refused." She looked at Meng Huan's expression, and saw that Meng Huan seemed calm, but his hand holding the painting was moving slightly. Trembling with confidence, he said, "Master said, that man is married and has two children."

Meng Huan turned his head to look at the bed where Song Zhi lay, but did not look at Aunt Zhu. When he blinked, tears fell down. He didn't let them see it, and said without turning his head: "Thank you very much." , you go out, I want to stay here alone for a while."

Hearing Meng Huan's voice trembling at the end, Aunt Zhu said nothing more, and dragged Mrs. Li away in a hurry.

Meng Huan didn't pay attention to what the two women said again, and he couldn't notice it anymore.

With trembling lips, he took out the two identical jade pendants from his bosom. The Maitreya Buddha on the jade pendants was no different from the past, with his eyes squinted with a smile, two big ears, and a big belly.Meng Huan remembered that when Song Zhi gave him the jade pendant, he said, "I hope you will always laugh and have no troubles."

My eyes were filled with tears quickly, and I couldn't even see the Maitreya Buddha in my hand. When was that?It seems to be the 19th year of the Yuan Dynasty, 12 years ago, Song Zhi.

He raised his hand to wipe it, but more and more.

"Laughing all the time..." Meng Huan murmured, he stroked Maitreya Buddha's smiling face gently as if he was afraid of crushing it, "...do you hate me to death?"

The furnishings in the room were the same as before Song Zhi died. Meng Huan sat on the wooden chair where Song Zhi sat eating noodles, looked at the empty and cool charcoal basin, raised his head again, and looked sideways at the crabapple outside the window. Buds sprouted from the broken branches of crabapple trees, and the green branches and leaves shook their heads in the soft spring breeze. On the branches, orioles flew up and down.

Spring is here, and the spring light is pouring in through the windows.

Meng Huan imagined what the house would look like in mid-winter, it must be extremely cold with wind leaking from all sides, Zi Lan is so afraid of the cold, no wonder she has to cover so many quilts.

Does he usually just sit here and watch the snow?What was he thinking when he looked at the snow? ...Will you think of him?

Meng Huan walked over to Song Zhi's bed, and then lay down as Hei Wazi described, sleeping in the place where Song Zhi had slept, the bed was dusty because no one slept for a long time.

The quilt was also put away by Mrs. Li to dry, and locked in the cabinet.

Meng Huan was much taller than Song Zhi. He curled up and lay on the hard wooden bed with the two jade pendants in his arms.

What was he thinking before he died?

Meng Huan lowered his head, gently kissed the jade pendant engraved with Song Zhi's name, and then pressed it to his chest.

Meng Huanduo wished that he could lie here and fall asleep like Song Zhi, and never wake up again.

But he didn't, he couldn't even fall asleep, even though he hadn't slept for several nights in a row, even though he had been exhausted physically and mentally for more than a month, but he didn't feel sleepy at all.

Just pinching those two jade pendants in a daze.

The spring rain from the Pujiang River was falling, and Meng Huan stumbled to his grave after leaving the shabby house.

It's raining, Zilan will be cold, right?

Meng Huan lay curled up next to Song Zhi's tomb, and stroked Song Zhi's name on the tombstone inch by inch with the palm of his hand. The touch of his body was rough and cold, but his Zilan skin was so soft, it was warm in his arms.

How could it be like this?

Meng Huan didn't understand.

"You clearly said that you asked me to come to you..."

Meng Huan's voice was muffled by the growing spring rain, so low and incoherent that no one could hear it except himself.

"I'm here, why don't you wait for me?"

Meng Huan leaned over with his muddy body, his face pressed against the tombstone, as if it was Song Zhi.

But the man would never answer him again.

No laughing at him, no anger at him, no more cynicism.

……

By the time Bayar arrived at Pujiang, it was already the autumn of this year. Meng Huan's half-year vacation had arrived, and the new king issued several decrees to let him go back to Beijing, but Meng Huan ignored them.Originally, after returning from the Western Expedition, with Meng Huan's merits, it is very likely that he will be promoted from the second rank to the first rank, and become a real pillar of the imperial court.But at this moment he realized that no amount of merit could compare to Song Zhi's smile.

Why didn't he understand it before.

The magistrate of Pujiang received Bayar and sent the lady to Song Zhi's dilapidated house.Meng Huan lived here and stayed inside all day long, as if Song Zhi was still living by his side and was here with him.

Meng Huan was unconscious most of the time, either drunk or in a daze. He sometimes cried and laughed, and the neighbors didn't like to associate with this friend of Mr. Song's.

When Bayar pushed the door, Meng Huan was still drunk, lying on the wooden bed with a jug in his arms. The thin bedding was damp and smelled of alcohol. Meng Huan had lost a lot of weight, his eyes were bloodshot, and his chin was stubbled. I don't know how long it hasn't been repaired.

Seeing Meng Huan like this, Bayar was furious, pained, and sad for a moment, raised his hand high, and then slapped it down, hitting Meng Huan heavily on the face.

Meng Huan's head was tilted, his hair was disheveled, hanging from the side of his face and spreading it on the bed, there was a clear palm print on his face.He didn't move for a long time, but his shoulders trembled slowly, and he shrugged, tears fell down his face in big drops, leaving round water marks one after another on the old blanket .

"Ake..." Meng Huan spoke suddenly, his voice hoarse.

"He's gone."

Meng Huan raised his face, looked at Bayar with half-opened eyes, and repeated in a murmur, "He's gone..."

"Why didn't he wait for me?"

Bayar lost her husband last year, so she can naturally understand Meng Huan's current mood, but she is more distressed by her son.

Bayar grabbed Meng Huan by the collar and pulled him up: "Hazier, look at yourself...look at your current appearance!"

"Do you still have half the bearing of the number one warrior in the Great Yuan?"

Meng Huan stared blankly at Bayar, this is his Ake, the Han people call it mother, Meng Huan thought of Song Zhi, who lost her parents when she was only 13 years old.

"Ake..." Meng Huan lowered his head, stretched out his arms, hugged Bayar, buried his face in her arms, and asked in a low voice, "Without him...what should I do?"

Bayar's eyes were already red. She held Meng Huan in her arms and stroked his hair. She was a strong woman. Even when Kuduhu passed away, she never shed a few tears in front of others. shed tears.

"Mengtao...you still need to raise him, Hazier, that is your son, you have to raise him, you can't be like this, the Holy One is already angry, you disappeared for so long without any reason, without even a word of confession, Don't you even want the family business?"

"Meng Tao..." Meng Huan closed his eyes. He couldn't even remember his mother's appearance. He had been in a daze for more than half a year, and his mind was confused. "Don't you want a grandson? Meng Tao will give you , you raise him, I can't raise him well."

"Hazier!" Bayar was so annoyed that he pushed Meng Huan out, pointed at his nose and scolded, "For a man, you made yourself so low, who are you worthy of?"

However, Meng Huan lay on the bed indifferently, Bayar flicked his sleeves fiercely, turned around and left, when she reached the door, she took Meng Tao's little hand and said, "Let's go, your Brother Ai Chi doesn't want you anymore, Just let him rot here!"

Meng Tao's amber eyes are exactly the same as his father's, but he hasn't enjoyed much paternal love since he was born. He glanced timidly into the room, only to see a dejected figure. He quickly retracted his eyes and followed Bayar gone.

His brother Ai Chi is a great hero who can fight well, how could he be the drunkard in the room?

But this winter, Meng Huan still returned to Beijing. After returning to Beijing, he began to beg for bones. In the book, he said that he had been fighting for many years and his bones were dying. He asked the Holy Lord to let him go home to retire.

Meng Huan was in his early thirties, and he was in his prime. When he heard that the book was in the hands of the Holy Master, the young emperor was so angry that he threw the table and refused to approve it.

If you don't approve Meng Huan, you will write a letter again. After going back and forth several times, the little emperor is younger than Meng Huan and has no patience. Let him go home and farm.

Meng Huan had already tidied up, immediately rolled up the bedding, packed up Song Zhi's previous use, hired a few carriages, and set off from Dadu to the Pujiang River.

Meng Huan thought he was unable to support Meng Tao, so he handed Meng Tao over to Bayar, saying that he could visit him occasionally.

Meng Huan refurbished the house where Song Zhi used to live, and put all of Song Zhi's daily necessities in the house as he did before his death. Since then, he has lived here, as if Song Zhi was still there.

Before Song Zhi was alive, Meng Huan regarded Meng Mansion as their home, but Song Zhi regarded it as a prison.After Song Zhi's death, it really became Meng Huan's prison, and every bit of it was covered with Song Zhi's shadow.

And this hut will be the home of Meng Huan and Song Zhi for the next few decades, and it will also be his prison for the rest of his life.