Mustang

In fact, even after seeing that scene, I never took the initiative to inquire about that person's identity or his relationship with the young prince after that night.But rumors about him are rampant in this mansion, from his father's concubine to the maid who does the laundry, and the gardener who plants flowers, people are always keen to use him as a topic of conversation after dinner.From those gossip, I pieced together his origin.

His name is Chunchuan, he came across the ocean from Japan, and he was a maiko in a theater troupe.Last year, the prince had a banquet and invited the theater troupe to his house to add to the fun, and the little prince fell in love with him at that time.Not long after, the little prince casually made up an excuse, saying that he met a bandit when he was riding a horse in the countryside, and was fortunately saved by this maiko.Then he was taken out of the troupe and stayed by his side as a bodyguard.

"It's a guard, the little prince is not willing to let others hurt him."

"Just serving our little prince is enough for him... His job is much more tiring than being a bodyguard!"

After speaking, they all laughed together.In the laundry room full of laughter, I only think of the eyes I saw through the candlelight when I was sitting on the stone bridge that night.His eyes were red, and there were tears in his eyes, but I didn't see the slightest hint of despair in his eyes—even if people thought that.

What I saw was a vigorously growing reed, swaying in the wind and rain, but taller than anyone else, and would never fall down.

The first time I talked to that reed-like stranger was in the second month after returning to the palace.

There was a grand banquet in the palace, and the father was sick in bed, so he asked the little prince to go alone with an entourage.My younger brother eats and lives with his bodyguards inseparable on weekdays, but he is exceptionally clear about important matters.Naturally, he would not let Chun Chuan accompany him on the occasion of meeting the current Holy Majesty.

Because of this, I rarely saw Chunchuan alone during the day.

When he slipped into the yard, I was sitting on the roof polishing an old flute my mother had left behind.He stood in the middle of the small courtyard and looked inside the house. After making sure that there was no one around, the flamboyant young man stretched out his limbs and gradually began to dance.

I am ashamed to say that I have studied rhythm and performance since I was a child, and studied many folk songs and songs, but I have never watched dance seriously, and I have never really come into contact with people who are good at dancing.

Driven by curiosity, I put down the flute in my hand and focused on him.

I saw him bend and fold his body in the early morning birdsong and then open it suddenly, his seemingly thin waist burst out with terrifying flexibility and strength; The hem of the clothes is stained with dew and mud, like a freehand landscape painting.

Without music, I interpreted his inner melody from his body, and suddenly, the man in front of me seemed to be completely opened to me, and I got a glimpse of his soul—it had nothing to do with his identity, but something deeper and more inner.I don't care where he came from, what people say about him, who owns him in any way, I don't even care what he thinks of me.I just disassemble and feel it out of the instinct of a musician, and use my eyes to hear what he is dancing and why he is dancing.

I picked up the flute and tried to answer him with the sound of the flute.Hearing the music, he was stunned for a moment, but he didn't turn his head to look for me. He just connected his movements naturally, making the lines of his body softer and smoother, blending into the melodious tune of the bamboo flute.

It wasn't until the end of the song that he leaned over and turned to me on the roof.I saw him slowly raising his hand towards me amidst the fading flute sound, and the large sleeves of his coat that were rolled up by the violent flip before were instantly shaken off. white crane.

He smiles at me.

I pinned my mother's flute to my waist and climbed awkwardly down the roof.Chun Chuan enthusiastically helped me hold the bamboo ladder.

"That's a good jump," I said to him after I landed on both feet.

He grinned again.This is quite different from what I expected - in the past two months, I saw him always silent and gloomy, always following behind my brother with a low eyebrow, and politely nodding and smiling when he saw me, but Far from being so sincere and hearty today.I thought he would reject people thousands of miles away.

"Do you come here to dance often?" I asked him.

"Master Yun, no one lived here until you came back, so I often dance here."

I smiled embarrassedly: "I hindered you."

He shook his head hastily: "I should thank you son. It's been a long time since anyone played me a song."

"Oh?" I looked at him, "Father said that the young prince also learned the piano, I thought..."

He lowered his head and stopped responding.

I never expected him to avoid the topic of the little prince so much.It seems that my younger brother does have some insane tricks—this wild horse in front of him is clearly dreaming of running wild, but he has nailed iron palms and put a saddle on it, making it so tame that people can no longer see how brutal this horse was. And grow up tenaciously.

I felt compassion because of this, and suggested to him without much thought: "If you don't dislike it, I can play music for you in the future."

He suddenly looked up at me, the brilliance in his eyes seemed to overflow: "Is it really possible?"

I nodded and said, "Anytime."

After that day, I began to meet the dancer privately—the time was chosen by him, and the place was the small courtyard where my mother and I used to live on the outskirts of the city.Locking the gate of the low courtyard, I sat under the eaves and played the piano, and Chunchuan was dancing to me in the mud in the middle of the courtyard.He dances whatever I play.

One day it was raining lightly, and when he came into the yard, his clothes were already soaked in rainwater. I stopped my hand from plucking the strings and asked him, "Do you still want to dance?"

Without even thinking about it, he stood in the rain and shouted to me with a smile: "Yes!"

The rain gradually became heavier, and the sound of the piano was mixed with the sound of the rain.The long line of water running down the eaves separated the two of us like a curtain made of colored glass.He changed his footsteps tirelessly in the muddy courtyard. When he stepped into a small hole, the mud splashed everywhere. The rain wet his forehead and covered his eyes, but he was very happy.

Until all the rhythms were drowned by the torrential rain, I stood up and stretched out my hands from the eaves.The rain hit my palm and he ran towards me.

I lit a fire in the stove and asked him to take off his clothes to dry.He unscrupulously untied his belt, took off his coat and coat, and walked up and down in front of me with his upper body bare.

I noticed deep and shallow scars on his chest, abdomen and back.The deep ones looked like old wounds, the wounds were sharp and smooth, and one could tell they were caused by swords.The rest of the superficial, fresh wounds were minor by comparison—nothing more than teeth marks and bruises, probably from my brother playing with him.

"Do you really know how to use a sword?" I asked after he sat down beside me.

He looked at the long and narrow scar on his chest, then nodded: "Yes."

I asked again, "Who did you learn from?"

"When I was young, there were wars and famines in our place. I was separated from my family when I was fleeing. When I was about to die of starvation, a swordsman rescued me and became my master. The master was an assassin. He taught me swordsmanship and killing people, but my courage Too young, he can learn sword dancing fairly quickly, but he can't learn how to kill people."

"Then how did you get here?"

"Later, the master was chased and killed. We hid in Tibet, and finally boarded a boat that came here by mistake. Before boarding the boat, he was injured, his wound was infected, and he died on the way. The envoy on the boat helped me to bury him Master, let me come to the capital with him. After arriving in the capital, the adults introduced me to the troupe, and I danced in the troupe until I met the little prince."

It was the first time I heard him say such a long paragraph.I didn't know what to comment, so I just stared at the charcoal fire in front of me, fascinated by the swaying flames.

After being silent for a while, Chun Chuan spoke again: "My lord envoy came to the troupe to look for me the year before last, saying that he was going to be an envoy to Japan again, and asked if I would like to go back by boat."

"you are not willing?"

"Yes." He buried half of his face in his arms, "I might not be able to find my family when I go back, and I might starve to death on the side of the road again. The troupe has food to eat and can dance. I'm very happy." satisfy."

Hearing this, I really want to ask him: what about now?Do you still feel content today?Have you never regretted being a bird in a flower cage in the courtyard of princes and nobles, curled up in human hands and let it play?

I never dared to ask.It was the same for him, and it was the same for his mother in the past.

It was dark, but it was still raining.I remembered the box of ointment I put in the bedroom earlier, so I went to get it back and handed it to him.

"This ointment is milder than ordinary medicinal wine, and you can use it to smear most of the wounds on your body..."

He stared at the porcelain box containing the ointment, and showed an incomprehensible smile: "Thank you, my lord."

After that rainy night, we saw each other more frequently.

We have met privately many times, and the people in the palace haven't found any clue yet - because the gossip people still gossip about him in front of me, and they still often tell him about my origin as the illegitimate son of a young master with a different surname.By luck, we are no longer limited to playing the piano and dancing in the courtyard, but go to the lakeside, mountains, and fields in the suburbs.

The sound of my zither and my singing echoed in the wilderness overgrown with weeds, white cranes spread their wings in front of me, and wild horses roared and galloped around me.

My white crane, my wild horse.

It was my younger brother who held the rein and whip that shattered this wonderful dream about cranes and horses.