Mr. Jiang is not driving today

Jiang Xun squatted on the ground with his knees hugged, and across the clumps of legs, he could still see the elegant young man in colored glaze and white clothes. Jiang Xun didn't dare to get up at all, hugged himself into a ball, and the porridge team moved forward a little. Jiang Xun took duck steps and rubbed forward a little.

Amu couldn't stand it anymore: "Xiao Xun.→_→"

Jiang Xun was nervous when a voice suddenly sounded in his mind, which made him gesticulate: "Shut up! Don't say anything! If he sees me, he will kill me!"

The last time I accidentally made him kneel down and worship him for a long time. When Jiang Xun was running, he didn't even dare to turn his head back. He was afraid that Yu Jiu would unleash his spiritual power and come over and knock him to the ground.

Thinking of the last time he was bedridden for several days and couldn't get up again, Jiang Xun still felt cold in his lower body and a dull pain in his head, so he hugged himself even tighter.

A Mu: "→_→Xiao Xun, have you forgotten that Yu Miao can't hear me?"

Jiang Xun stretched his head to observe those legs, afraid that he would approach him: "...if I can hear it."

Amu: "..."

Jiang Xun looked at the pair of legs surging with the flow of people. They were slender and straight like poplars. Every time he took a step, the loose and light clothes were pushed up, and the beautiful muscle lines were faintly visible. He knew that he was hiding. Jiang Xun Still couldn't help but put her face on her arm, admired the dizzying light between those muddy legs, and muttered to herself: "...I miss him a lot."

Yu Miao, who was not far away, completely ignored the awe-inspiring gazes of the refugees around him, holding Guangcheng in his hand, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing against the hilt of his sword.

The single-ringed jade clinging to his waist oozes hot spiritual power, burning his side psoas muscles, guiding the direction of the other half of the jade, and a warm stream of light spreads around his waist.

——Mingyu will have a special feeling when he is close to the other half, and since Jiang Xun escaped from Dongshan, Yu Miao has not experienced such a clear sense of bondage for a long time.

... He felt that at least ten years had passed.

Yu Miao remembered that he had found out during the investigation that Ying Yisheng had an old friend. After Ying Yisheng's death, that person risked the world's disgrace to go to the Yin family to collect the bones for him, and then followed the trail all the way here. .

He thought that if Jiang Xun got the news, he would always come here.

I just didn't expect him to come so fast.

Yu Miao's gaze fell on the crowd intentionally or unintentionally, and he forcibly suppressed his urge to run over to pick up that dirty guy.

There are too many people here, it is difficult to start, and it is even more difficult to end if they are scared away.

...Besides, this guy may turn into a cat and escape.

On that side, Jiang Xun was very nervous, hugging Yin-Yang in his arms, and all the aura flowing on the umbrella bone of Yin-Yang was swallowed up by the umbrella made by the chaotic beast. Xun didn't notice the burning spirit of induction, nor did he notice a pair of indifferent eyes staring at him a few meters away.

Perhaps because he was too nervous, Jiang Xun broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn't feel the cold even when the wind blew, but he felt tired and tidal. He moved forward with his head covered. He didn't know how long he squatted like this. When he raised his head again, I have already seen the greenhouse brackets and tarpaulins of the porridge shed.

The furnishing here is very simple.A large wooden porridge bucket half the height of a person was placed on a somewhat crude wooden table, and a large iron pot was placed on top of a stove that was still burning.The porridge shed is backed by a vertical cliff, and mold has grown on the cornices on three sides. The fungus has penetrated into the wood, leaving spots of traces, but it seems that it has been carefully scraped by the owner of the porridge shed. There are still fresh and rolled fine stubble all around.The tarpaulin was made of burlap, which, although a little ugly, was thicker.The sky has not stopped raining since just now, and the tiny raindrops splashed on the linen sheets, making a pleasant and fast-paced rustling sound.

The refugees who received the porridge were holding a porcelain bowl in their hands, some were holding two or three, big or small, colorful and warm in their hands, and everyone's eyes were locked on the steaming wooden porridge bucket , and the hearth not far from the porridge barrel.

The fire under the hearth was burning vigorously, and the damp firewood crackled and burned in the stove. Soon, a new batch of porridge was out of the pot.

Jiang Xun raised his eyes, and saw a man in azure-colored clothes barely holding the big iron pot that couldn't be hugged by his arms, he barely climbed onto the table, and poured the rich and attractive millet yellow porridge into the porridge. In the barrel, there is a unique viscous sound when the porridge is fused with each other, and at the same time, a sweet porridge aroma is stimulated.

He was the only one busy in the porridge shed, but everything was surprisingly orderly.Whenever young people poured porridge or lifted the steaming pot, there would be a commotion among the refugees, but they were all well-intentioned, and everyone would go into the shed one by one to receive alms.

The young man standing on a high place put the iron pot back on the stove, added water and rice, and after making a new pot, he jumped back on the wooden table and stirred it back and forth in the wooden barrel with a long porridge spoon, turning the head of the spoon There was a muffled sound of knocking on the barrel, and then turned around.

Jiang Xun finally saw his face clearly.

Unexpectedly handsome and ordinary, very ordinary, his looks belong to the kind that is difficult to find when thrown in the crowd, his temperament is as gentle as a warm spring lake, to be honest, Jiang Xun can't match him with Ying Yisheng Lenovo in one place.

There was a five or six-year-old girl holding a sea bowl, waiting eagerly at the foot of the young man. Her eyes were bright and clear like purple grapes. The young man looked at the little girl, smiled slightly, and squatted down.His voice was nice, and matched his temperament very well: "I'll fill it up for you, okay?"

The little girl nodded and said "Thank you" weakly. The young man narrowed his eyes with a smile, and wanted to reach out to touch her hair, but the little girl shrank back and whispered: "... There are gnats on the head, it is not clean."

The young man didn't mind at all, he knelt down on the spot and kissed the little girl's dirty cheek.

The little girl bowed her head shyly, and said, "...I know the rules. My dad taught me."

After finishing speaking, she ran to the back of the greenhouse. Jiang Xun looked at it from a distance. There was a tablet that did not match the simple furnishings of the porridge shed. It was made of red sandalwood. A furnace of high-quality sandalwood, a ray of incense is curling up with green smoke.

The little girl Duanduan knelt down in front of the memorial tablet and bowed to the end: "I wish Brother Ying Yisheng good luck and good luck."

The young man's face turned slightly red, and he brought a bowl full of porridge to the little guy. The little girl thanked her again, took it cautiously, and walked step by step towards her sick father lying on the side of the road.

...Jiang Xun felt that as far as he was now, it would be good not to snatch Ying Yisheng's memorial tablet and chop it into firewood, so he expected himself to wish him good luck?

But looking at this young daughter-in-law's face, Jiang Xun couldn't arouse the interest in questioning him.

It seems that people who come here to beg for porridge have to give a blessing to Ying Yisheng, which proves from the side that the young man really thought that Ying Yisheng was dead, otherwise people would not bow down to his tablet and pray.

It is said that this young man has been here for nearly ten years. Whenever there is a famine, he will open a porridge shed to help the victims. He does not know where the rice comes from. It is difficult to find it in this southern barbarian land. Even so, he still insists on it. This made Jiang Xun curious as to what kind of friend Ying Yisheng was.

If it's life and death, Ying Yisheng has no reason to hide the fact that he is still alive.

If they meet by chance, who can do good deeds for the other party for ten years and accumulate good fortune for ten years?

Jiang Xun thought about getting up, but he didn't know whether it was because he had squatted for too long or for some other reason. He felt dizzy for a while, and almost fell to the ground. The muddy water on his body had dried up and condensed on his skin. The heat seemed to pass through Jiang Xun's skin and burn directly into his flesh and blood.

At first, he was optimistic that the lack of security was because the lost soul was not far away, but soon, the piercing coldness that surrounded his body made him realize that it didn't seem to be the case.

His eyelids were as heavy as a weight, his back was so sore that he couldn't stand up at all, and the soles of his feet were itchy radiantly, spreading to the crooks of his thighs. When he was so uncomfortable that he couldn't breathe, he saw the glazed white He stepped forward and walked straight to the young man.

Suddenly such a neat and well-dressed person came, the young man was also taken aback, he sized up Yu Miao, and when his eyes fixed on the jade around his waist, his face suddenly turned blue.

The young man immediately looked away, stirred the porridge with a spoon, and the panic in his voice betrayed him completely through his movements: "My lord... what do you want, my lord? I only serve good porridge here. Nothing else..."

Of course Yu Miao ignored his evasive words and said calmly, "I am fleeing. Please give me a bowl of porridge."

youth:"……"

Jiang Xun: "..."

The young man seemed to want to complain, but he still held back and didn't make a sound. He bent down and picked out a blue and white sea bowl from behind the table, filled a spoonful of it, and pushed it to Yu Miao in a panic: "Okay , please... please leave, my lord."

Yu Miao held the bowl with a frank expression: "Don't you need me to say something to Yisheng?"

The young man looked like he was about to cry: "No, there's no need..."

But Yu Miao suddenly took a step forward: "I still want to personally go to his grave to offer a stick of incense for him. I heard that his tomb is nearby. Could you please show me the way?"

The young man was so frightened that he almost fell off the table, and the refugees also realized that something was wrong. The people in the front row were agitated, jostling and jostling, pushing the drowsy Jiang Xun to and fro, making a fuss. A few kicks kicked Jiang Xun's back, but he didn't feel any pain.

I felt uncomfortable, my whole body was cold, my throat was sore, and I couldn't even speak.

Yu Miao over there was still unaware of Jiang Xun's situation, grabbed the skirt of the young man who was trying to retreat, and held the azure-colored robe that had been mended many times, and even the original color had faded a lot.

Having lived with Gong Yi for many years, he only needs to touch this tactile material to know that it is not extraordinary.

He fixed his eyes on the young man, and asked in a low voice: "Are you from the Gong family? Ying Yisheng is full of Tu Gong families, why do you still offer Ying Yisheng's memorial tablet?"

The young man panicked, he dodged backwards regardless, jumped off the table, and disappeared in the air.

In a blink of an eye, only a torn azure skirt was left in Yu Miao's hand, fluttering in the wind.

Yu Miao frowned, walked around to the side of the table where the young man disappeared—

There was a magic circle formed there.

He wanted to chase after him, but when he looked back, he saw Jiang Xun lying in the crowd, his face was covered with dirty sand, but it couldn't cover up the abnormality that came out from under his skin. sickly red.

Countless pairs of feet stepped on him, but he didn't even notice it, he just held Yin Yang tightly in his arms with his right hand, as if he was afraid of losing some important treasure.

In fact, Jiang Xun was still conscious, but he didn't feel the pain anymore. He could only feel a foot stepping on his finger. He was nervous for a while, and when he realized that it was his left hand that was being stepped on by the other side, he relaxed again. in one breath.

He hadn't been sick for a long time, but he didn't realize until now that he had a fever.

...Damn it, you shouldn't take the initiative to get caught in the rain.

This was also the last clear thought in Jiang Xun's mind before he passed out.