Nightfall Chapter 277: This is not a story written in a book

Volume Two, Winter Lake, Chapter 277, This Is Not Nine Astronomy

Everyone believes that Ning Que is the son of Xuanwei General Lin Guangyuan, the orphan of the massacre that year, dormant in the world for many years, and as soon as he finally entered the academy to gain power, he would begin **** revenge. Even His Majesty the Emperor and Xiahou, as well as many senior brothers and sisters in the back mountain of the academy believed this rumor.

So at this time, when the people in front of the imperial city heard Ning Que whispered this sentence, they couldn't help being shocked. They couldn't believe it. If you were not Lin Guangyuan's orphan, then why did you do it? These things?

Xiahou looked at Ning Que under the black umbrella, frowning, not knowing what he was thinking.

Ning Que looked down at the plum blossom-like blood spots on the snow, as if seeing those blood spots on the ground in the wood house fifteen years ago, with an inexplicable smile on his face.

The wind and snow suddenly dissipated and gathered, and gradually became more urgent.

Ning Que raised his head and watched everyone ask three questions.

"Why do you all think I am the general's son?"

"Why must I be the general's son?"

"Why do you all want me to be the general's son?"

Everyone is still in extreme shock, unable to answer his question at all.

Ning Que laughed at himself and said, "It's a pity, I really am not."

"My father is not General Xuanwei, not a school lieutenant, not an official, or even a clerk. He is just the concierge of the General's Mansion and the concierge of the second door. "

"My mother is naturally not the general's wife. She is just a maid from a humble background. Although she has fed the young grandma and can enter and exit the back house, she is still just a maid."

"Your Majesty reversed the case for the general. I am very pleased. This is a real feeling, because the general and the general's wife are good people. They died very wrongly, but I regret that... I didn't hear my parents' names."

He looked at the people in front of the imperial city and said: "This is a very natural thing. My parents are originally humble people, and their names are also very humble."

"My father is an orphan, so the general gave his surname Lin, and his name is Lin Tao."

"My mother didn't even have a name. She was sold from Hebei County to Chang'an City. She was called Li Sanniang from childhood to death because she vaguely remembered that she was ranked third in the family."

Blood water continued to flow down the palm of Ning Que's hand to the snow. The expression on his face was very calm, and his narration was also very calm, not indifference, but true peace.

However, this kind of calmness without excitement made everyone who saw Ning Que's face feel a chill rising from the soles of their feet, and then their whole body froze.

This calm is terrible.

Sangsang was not afraid, just feeling his feelings at this time, saddening his grief at this time, chilling at the coldness of his body and mind at this time, subconsciously reached out and held his hand, wanting to give him some warmth.

"I know, it's all written in the book."

Ning Que said calmly: "The prince who was taken away from the throne went away, and then returned to the country for revenge. The minister who was framed by traitorous officials escaped from a young master. Many years later, he was awarded the champion and won the favor of his majesty. Revert the case."

He looked at the people and asked seriously: "But why must the protagonist of every revenge story be a prince? Isn't the son of the concierge and the maid girl eligible for revenge?"

Faced with this calm but vocal question, the people in front of the imperial city could only be silent. Zeng Jing wanted to say something, but couldn't open his mouth. Li Qingshan sighed slightly.

"It is written like this in the books, and people think so. I know that no one can be blamed. Any self-pity feelings are idiots, but I still hate this kind of thinking."

"It's like a dozen years ago."

Ning Que looked at Xiahou and said, "That day, I took the young master to play on the street, just like I always do, because he regarded me as a good friend... He said too much, anyway The butler wanted to save the blood of the general, and by the way, he took me into the doctor's office across the street."

Hearing these words, the academician Zeng Jing's expression was slightly stiff, remembering the situation when the wife, who was still a concubine, gave birth to a daughter, and blood was flowing across the street.

Ning Que continued: "When you marched into the General's Mansion with your soldiers and horses, I was hiding in the firewood room of the Doctor's Mansion with the young master and the butler."

Xiahou said with a gloomy expression: "My subordinates finally chased to the chaifang and saw two dead bodies. I confirmed that Lin Guangyuan’s son was dead, so I have always been puzzled about your identity, and I no longer doubt it. I started to wonder how you did it."

Ning Que looked at the wind and snow around him, as if he was reminiscing something, and smiled and said, "There is nothing new under Haotian, it's not just the old stories."

"If the general's son is to be alive, the concierge's son must die. They are all four-year-old boys, cut blood and blood, and changed clothes. Who can tell who is who?"

"The butler thought he didn't need to be alert to a four-year-old boy, so he looked at me in a daze, with regret, sympathy, and sadness in his eyes. At that moment, I knew what he was going to do. "

He spread his hands, smiled and said, "Isn't it all written like this in books?"

Then his smile gradually turned away, looking at Xiahou, Zeng Jing, Li Qingshan, and everyone he could see, and asked blankly, "But why?"

"Why should I do what is written in the book?"

"Why should the general's son live and the concierge's son to die?"

"Why should I die?"

The wind and snow fell on the palace gate, and everyone was silent.

No one could answer this question, so it was quiet, only Ning Que's voice was still floating in the heavy snow, and it was floating higher and colder.

……

……

"I'm just the son of a concierge."

"But I want to live."

"I want to live."

Ning Que's voice is calm and firm, telling his thoughts back then, just like telling the truth that the sun will rise every day and the water will flow down.

He continued: "So when the butler tried to trick me into taking off my clothes and getting the hatchet by myself, I took the hatchet in my hand and stabbed him in the stomach."

"I stabbed more than one knife."

Ning Que recalled the events of the year, frowning and said: "It seems to be five knives."

"Because the strength is not strong enough, the stabbing is not deep enough, and he can't be stabbed to death for a while, so I have to stabb him a few more times, but I don’t know why, the butler didn’t call, he just looked at me in horror, like a devil, Over the years, I have been thinking about whether he was so scared that he couldn't speak, or he didn't want to start talking to people outside the wood house."

He was silent for a while and continued: "Master...that is, the son of the general. He didn't know what happened at the time. He just watched the housekeeper, who has always been the most beloved, lying in a pool of blood. He rushed at me like crazy. Come here, want to hit me, want to bite me."

He shook his head and said: "I was also in a panic, dancing with a hatchet, and somehow cut his neck, then he covered his neck and retreated backwards and fell on the pyre."

"The blood in the young master’s neck spouted from his fingers. I wanted to cover it for him, but I couldn’t cover it no matter what. Until the end, the blood he shed condensed in my fingers. ."

Ning Que raised his head, looked at the people in the snow, was silent for a long time, shook his head, and said, "Not a manslaughter."

"Maybe I just wanted to kill him."

He looked at Xiahou and smiled and said, "Because only he is dead, and people like you and His Royal Highness will not care about my concierge’s son anymore."

The world is shrouded in wind and snow, shrouded in deathly silence.

Snowflakes floated to Ning Que's face, touching that smile, and it seemed to be even colder.

It was a smile that seemed mild, but was actually extremely cold.

People looked at the smiles on Ning Que's face, shocked and unspeakable, feeling unprecedented cold.

They seem to have seen the picture in the firewood room of the doctor's house of the consultation ten years ago.

A four-year-old boy, holding a rusty hatchet in both hands, stood in front of the two corpses. His small face was full of despair and fear. His body was shaking constantly, and he might collapse to the ground at any time.

But the little boy never fell.

Now, the little boy of the year is standing in the wind and snow, standing in front of the majestic palace, standing in front of people, telling the ancient story.

The stories in the books are often written like that.

The story he told is not in the book.

……

……

(On the first anniversary of Ye Ye, I finally told one of the few stories I want to tell in this story. I feel very happy. At eight o'clock, the crooked one...55373, let’s chat.)

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