Reincarnation of the powerful minister

The key was pressed before the palace gate, and Su Yan took out his western pocket watch to see that it was exactly seven o'clock.

He couldn't keep up, so he could only spend one night in the East Palace, but he resolutely rejected the prince's unreasonable request to sleep in the same hall, and planned to go to the side hall next to him.

The prince didn't force it any more, but held his red cloth-like face, sat cross-legged on the arhat's couch and thought about it again and again, laughing from time to time.

Su Yan gave him a sideways look in shame and disdain, and left.

Outside the imperial palace, in the Su Mansion in Huanghuafang in the inner city, Jing Hongchai, Xiaobei, and Xiaojing waited for an hour with a table full of food and wine, until a servant came to tell that Mr. Su was staying overnight in the East Palace and would not come back for the night.

Su Xiaojing pursed her lips: "Staying in the East Palace again. How much does our lord fall into the eyes of my young master, and he won't let him go back to his residence to sleep. In the one or two months before leaving Beijing, it's hard not to go to the palace as an official. In the end, the young master went straight to the house to find someone, which scared me to death!"

Su Xiaobei glared at him: "I'm ashamed to say it! If it wasn't for your bald mouth that night, you lured the prince to the lord's outer house. Fortunately, nothing happened, otherwise, even if the lord didn't pick your skin, I would have ruthlessly Smack you hard."

Outside house?Jing Hong chased her pupils back suddenly, and unconsciously clenched the hilt of her sword.Master Su raised a foreign house?Who is it, male or female, how does he not know?

... It's normal not to know.Whether Mr. Su is raising a concubine or marrying a wife, it is necessary to inform him?But a guard.It's just a "little concubine" jokingly, but do you really think of yourself as a family member of an adult?Jing Hongzui pursed her lips tightly.

Su Xiaojing was very ashamed: "Brother Bei, stop talking! Companion to a king is like a tiger, I know. I will never dare to talk nonsense in front of my young master again."

Jing Hongzhui got up suddenly and said: "You two eat, I'll go practice sword."

"Brother Chasing, it's not too late to practice sword after dinner." Su Xiaobei stopped him.

Su Xiaojing echoed: "That's right, aren't you hungry? I'm so hungry."

"Not hungry." After Jing Hongzhui finished speaking, she walked out of the flower hall with her sword, and came to the snow-covered open space in the backyard.

Slowly pulled out the sword that the adults gave him, the black and white lines on it seemed to flow endlessly under the moonlight and snow.Jing Hong chased her hand and caressed Jianfeng, and whispered two words: "Oath——"

The sword light suddenly pierced through the snowy night, and the cold light shot out, like exploding a misty nebula.

Jing Hong pursued the sword all night.

The galaxy's cold light is misty, and the star shadow seems to be close to the top of the head, crumbling in the sky.

Hu Tian is snowing in August.The September wind slashed across his face like an ice knife, and Sharidan pulled the horse's hooves out of the snow nest and walked forward with difficulty.Altan, who was bound on horseback, fell into a coma again after a brief sobriety.

Sharidan was glad that he fed the prince with the only remaining food and water in time when he was still awake - and this was the only thing to be thankful for.

They traveled all the way, over rolling mountains, through dry forests, wading through frozen rivers, encountering hungry wolves, and avoiding the Dayan hunting team. Fewer and fewer.

In the end, he was the only one left beside the prince, and he lost his way in the snowstorm. He couldn't recognize the location of Ulan Mountain, let alone the sacred tree on the shore of Lake Baikal.

... Are you really going to die on this vast snowfield?Sharidan gritted his teeth, thinking unwillingly.

Fengxue lifted a corner of the wolf fur wrapped around Altan's body, he stretched out his hand to tuck it tightly, drank the last sip of milk wine in the cowhide pouch, lowered his head and pulled the rein, and walked forward with difficulty.

The horse under Aletan was the best steed in Beimo, and at this moment it finally couldn't stand it any longer, and knelt down on the snow with its front legs bent, foaming at the mouth.

Sharidan pulled the rein hard a few times, but he didn't pull it. He stared at the prince's beloved horse desperately, and really didn't want to take out his machete and cut its throat.Everyone in the Beimo tribe grew up with horses, and they would not kill horses to survive unless it was absolutely necessary.

He slowly drew the machete.

At this moment, there seemed to be a faint singing voice mixed in the wind and snow.

Sharidan listened carefully, his voice was deep and ethereal, each sound was like stepping on a heavy drumbeat, simple and desolate, as if he had penetrated thousands of years and came from the ancient wilderness:

"Your rolling thunder echoes on the cliffs.

Your roaring wind and snow are whistling in the mountains, forests and rivers.

Your body is as strong as a mountain, towering like a sacred tree, and as violent as lightning.

You are the ruler of the clouds in the sky, you have ten thousand bright eyes..."

——It's a shaman song!With ecstasy on Sharidan's face, he untied the rope, carried Altan on his back with all his strength, and headed towards the place where the singing came, braving the wind and snow.

He walked for a long time with one foot deep and one foot shallow, the singing sound was always drifting, but he couldn't find the source no matter what.

When the strong wind blew, Sharidan staggered a few times, and finally couldn't support himself and fell on the snow, fainting.

"Altan. The son of the sacred tree, the gold of the grassland..."

Amid the old man's call, Altan slowly opened his eyes, and saw a darkness that was barely illuminated by the firelight.

He was full of burning pain all over his body, as if he was in the middle of the flame all the time, and it was extremely difficult to even move his fingers.He gasped for breath, gathering all his strength, and only completed a small movement of turning his head sideways.

He saw gray-brown rough walls.After a trance, I realized that it was not a wall, but a tree trunk so thick and shocking.

There was a short figure in front of the tree trunk, wrapped in layers of long streamers, like a pupa wrapped in gray-green cloth strips, the exposed face was also covered with deep wrinkles like bark.

This is an extremely old man, so old that he is like a collapsing earth bag, ready to disintegrate in the wind at any time.

A dying old shaman.

Altan moved his lips, but could not make a sound.

The old shaman used a drumstick made of camel bone to touch his white hair and his face, which was blue from the cold, and then dripped some dark green turbid juice into his mouth.

After a while, Altan felt the burning sensation in his body subside a little, took a breath, and said in a soft voice, "I'm still alive..."

"It's not yet time for the leaves to fall back to their roots." The old shaman said in an almost decayed voice, "You are just about to wither, but you are still saved."

A strong will to survive surged in Altan's heart, and he begged, "Old witch, save me..."

The old shaman stretched out the drumstick, and used the end of the bone wheel to part his robe, exposing the tattoo of the sacred tree on his abdomen.The original black tattoo, some of the branches were once dyed maroon by Su Yan's blood, but now the red is so pale that it can hardly be seen clearly.

"When the blood color completely disappears, and you haven't come here, you can't be saved. You are a lucky child, and this sacred tree tattoo is your life-saving talisman."

As the old shaman said, he moved to a stone mortar a few steps away, put a handful of fist-sized black-brown fruits in it, and began pounding it vigorously with a stone pestle.

"It was the elders of the clan who helped me get the tattoo." Altan said with difficulty, "He said that this tattoo would protect me from the evil front and the evil disease."

The old shaman picked up a trace of dark brown mucus from the stone mortar, and said, "This is added to the tattoo dye, which can detoxify all kinds of poisons. The poison is so strong that it can't be detoxified for a while, but it can also hang your body for a short time." Life, until you find the location of the sacred tree in time."

"Thank you for the sacred tree, thank you for the shaman. Old witch, have you seen my companions, those who sent me here?"

"only one."

"What about others?"

"Frozen to death. It's a pity that I almost couldn't save him." The old shaman lifted the cloth and showed Altan his lower body.

He didn't have a lower body, he was amputated from the thigh at the root, and he fixed himself on a wooden board with rollers, and he could only slide a certain distance.

Altan was silent.He felt a deep sadness, mourned for his companions, and prayed for the old witch.

The old shaman seemed to be used to it long ago, and he didn't show any sad expression, but continued to make medicine with all his strength, aggressively and non-stop.After a long time, he pulled out the hole plug at the bottom of the mortar, drained the juice, and put it in a skull bowl.

He said to Altan in an unusually serious tone: "You have to think clearly."

"Think about what..."

"In order to get rid of the remaining poison on your body, I will use the juice from the fruit of the sacred tree to smear all over your body. Then you will fall into suspended animation, like a hibernating chrysalis."

"Fake death? How long will I sleep?"

"It depends on how quickly your body recovers, maybe two or three months, maybe two or three years."

Altan was stunned, "I...won't starve to death?"

The old shaman showed a smile that was uglier than crying: "Your heartbeat will become very slow, and the blood flow in your body will be like a gentle prairie river. You can go without eating for several days... Of course, during the period I also I'll give you some berries and broth. But I'm old and have a bad memory, and I'll have to wait until I remember. I hope you can make it through."

Altan smiled wryly: "If you can't bear it, you have to endure it. If you don't do this, the toxicity will attack soon. I can feel the fire in the internal organs is still burning."

"This is not the only thing I want you to think about." The old shaman tapped his heart with a drumstick, "You may become another person."

"--what?"

"The medicinal properties of the fruit of the sacred tree will detoxify you and change your temperament. A brave person may become cowardly, an upright person may become despicable, and a gentle person may become Tyranny—are you willing to take the risk?"

Altan opened his mouth, but did not answer.

The old shaman shook his head, "I know, it's hard."

He beat the catch drum with a drumstick, and sang another divine song: "Summon the soul of myself, call, call, call. May all wishes of Fudge come true, as longed for..."

Altan was silent, considering whether to die as himself or live as another person.

"I..." He hesitated, "The so-called risk is not inevitable, right?"

The old shaman changed from a long chant to a short drumbeat without answering.The beating of drums urged him like a nervous heartbeat.

Altan didn't hesitate too long, and made up his mind: "If you want to hunt wild wolves, you have to take the risk of being bitten by wolf teeth. If you want to catch falcons, you have to take the risk of being torn apart by claws and beaks. How could one not need to take risks in order to survive? Old witch, I am willing to accept it. And I believe that no matter how I change, I am Altan!"

The old shaman beat the last heavy drumbeat, showing an ugly smile again.

"It's more than that. Your tattoo seeped into another person's blood. I think the person who gave you the tattoo should have warned you."

Altan recalled: "Yes, no one else can touch this tattoo, except parents and... partners."

"So that person must become your partner. Within three years after you recover, if you don't get that person's body and mind, and if you don't both kneel in front of the sacred tree and make a wish to be united, you will suffer the backlash of tattoos.

"That person's blood will become your deadly poison, a poison with no solution.

"you will die."

Altan's eyes widened in shock.He slowly raised his arm, with a light blue hair band wrapped around it.After experiencing the wind, snow and dust all the way, the hair tie has long since become dusty, and the leaf-shaped jade pendant at the end has fallen off to the last piece.

Su Yan...would you agree?Will they be able to meet again three years after he wakes up?In the face of Prince Beimo, who is likely to change drastically, will Su Yan, an official of the Great Ming Dynasty, be willing to mingle with him physically and mentally, and form a couple?

This is so far out of reach!It is even harder than holding on to one's temperament under the influence of medicine...

Altan shook his head subconsciously, trying to recall the smiles and frowns of that Central Plains boy, hoping to catch the slightest look at him differently from them.

But he found with great regret that compared to the strong affection he had for Su Yan, Su Yan didn't even seem to have a good impression of him.And the word "friend" is still on the premise of harmlessness to the country.

He always remembered Su Yan's joke full of warning:

"Nowadays, even a young horse dealer in Wala can recite poems describing the capital of our country. Does your department also have the idea of ​​knocking on the gate?"

At that time he wanted to say, I only yearn for Da Ming, and I have no intention of aggression.But when the words came to his lips, he swallowed them back—is that really the case?Apart from admiration, don't you have any ambition to possess?

Altan let out a long breath.

The old shaman asked, "Have you thought it through?"

Altan nodded: "I want to live, even if I don't know how long I can live. Maybe I will die in three years, but at least I have worked hard and fought for it. Populus euphratica still takes root in the desert, and eagles still build their nests on cliffs. And I am a dignified man, how can I retreat without a fight!"

The old shaman nodded, reached into the skull bowl, scooped up a handful of dark brown semi-solid ointment, applied it on the tattoo on his abdomen, and then spread it up and down.

After the bowl of ointment was used up, he pounded it three more times before he could barely smear Altan's whole body.

Altan was naked, and was wrapped in a gradually drying ointment into a clay figurine.After the old shaman took off his robes and all the gold ornaments on his body, he wanted to go ahead and remove the headband wrapped around his arm, but Altan insisted on keeping it.

"There will be several rings of different skin colors on your arms, like snakes shedding their skin, which is ugly." The old shaman reminded him.

Altan didn't mind, "I don't care, I want to keep it."

Since he said so, the old shaman stopped persuading him, and watched him gradually lose consciousness while beating drums and singing divine songs.

The drum beat suddenly stopped again, the old shaman scratched his muddy ears, and said to himself: "Oh, I am really old, I forgot to mention, there is a risk - you may forget some things in the past, A few people. Maybe including the guy who gave you the hair tie."

"Alas..." The old shaman sighed and sang, "You are the master of the earth and fields, and you have ten thousand strong hearts."

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