You rascal, stop right there!

Day two.

Since Ling Shumo's right arm and right leg are seriously injured, he has to rest for a night before setting off again.

They temporarily arranged it into Song Yuanshan's carriage, and several guards sat on the horses in pairs.

The group planned to head towards the nearest city, Zhengzhou.

Ling Shumo's body had already looked a little weak due to the long journey. Although his face was not pale, it was not very bloody.

So, Bai Wan volunteered to carry it into the carriage.

As a result, because he couldn't hold him, Ling Shumo fell directly to the ground.

There was a snap.

The man's body had not yet fully recovered, and now he couldn't help but whimper.

The guards stared at the man.

Is this scoundrel here to cause trouble?

"I...I...I..."

He mentioned "I" three times, but he still didn't get to the point.

He is a ruffian, not a strongman.

With thin arms and legs, he's good at cheating and gang fighting.

He couldn't even lift up a grown person.

It's really embarrassing.

However, he didn’t expect that Ling Shumo didn’t blame him at all. Instead, he stood up by himself using a makeshift piece of wood as a crutch.

Bai Wan looked at Ling Shumo awkwardly as he stood up, feeling like a useless quail.

The person opposite gently pulled his sleeve and said faintly: "I don't blame you, help me up! Okay?"

This voice is even gentler than the one spoken by Aniu's mother who lives next door to the tofu shop.

So, Bai Wan helped Ling Shumo, who had an injured arm, into the carriage. The narrow space seemed to make people feel a little nervous.

He looked at the man in front of him with a conspicuous bloodstain on his knee. He was wearing tattered clothes and looked dishevelled, but his expression remained calm.

He was detained by the enemy country, but he escaped and fled back to his country.

Either way, it's an astonishing event.

Except for that time when I saw him painting, I have never seen him get angry, laugh, be overjoyed, or be sad. It was as if everything in the world was as calm as water.

Even his behavior just now was ignored.

His temper is really good.

"Abai, don't you have anything to ask me?" Ling Shumo's voice was not loud. It could even be said that it should have sounded gentle, but there was a certain tenacity hidden in it.

"That..." Bai Wan smiled very reluctantly, "The current Minister of Rites, Lord Ling who greatly surpassed the Three Saints of the Painting Academy. I dare not act rashly!"

Knowing that this person was teasing him on purpose, Ling Shumo couldn't help but smile, then frowned as he looked at the person who got on the carriage.

"Actually, I really didn't mean to not tell you..." he said softly.

"I know..." Bai Wan stopped smiling.

"There is actually a reason why I said I wasn't familiar with you in the past." Ling Shumo had experienced a life-and-death experience and was wondering whether to tell this person the truth.

"I know..." Bai Wan suddenly became serious.

"If you are doing this for my own good, I am willing to wait until you feel it is appropriate to tell me!"

After saying this, he smiled, but his face was as dark as water.

These days, I have come to terms with it a little.

The present is more important than the past.

Ling Shumo looked at him and smiled quietly, in silence.

"How did you see my handwriting?" At this moment, some indescribable emotions emerged in Ling Shumo's eyes.

Those words were written by A Yan after his arm was injured.

Ah Yan had followed him for many years, and had been influenced by his calligraphy and painting, and he could imitate them to some extent.

Bai Wan brushed the man's hair, and her fingers touched the slightly cracked wound on his shoulder. His brows suddenly frowned, and his eyes dimmed.

Ling Shumo didn't even dodge, but continued to look at the man.

"The stroke you write is different from the one others write." Bai Wan said.

Ling Shumo asked sincerely: "What's the difference?"

The ruffian was very happy: "It's not as good as your own handwriting! I can recognize your handwriting at a glance!"

These words are so sincere and come from the bottom of the heart that they can't help but move people.

At this time, winter had already arrived outside the carriage, and snow was flying everywhere. Snowflakes fell gracefully on the trees, leaves, and the carriage.

Deserted, lonely, and sad.

Bai Wan looked at the person next to her, who had been sitting quietly since a while ago, with her eyes slightly lowered. Her long eyelashes seemed to hide the thoughts in this person's mind.

You can see that there is a little shadow in his eyes.

Ling Shumo held his breath and said subconsciously:

"If I had been in Baiyun City at that time, and I had not gone to Xuanli Country. Or if I had gone to Xuanli and unfortunately died in a foreign land! I'm afraid I wouldn't be sitting in the car and looking at this snowy scene now."

"That's impossible!" Bai Wan looked at him and smiled, "You won't not go. If my brothers have conflicts with others in other territories, I will go even if I know I might be beaten to death!"

This metaphor is quite apt.

Bai Wan would not only go, but would also grab weapons and dry food, and be prepared to spend several months in jail for the crime of fighting.

The word "righteousness" is not a big deal!

However, he felt that such things were meaningless, and as a gangster himself, he would never get involved in national affairs or the people's livelihood.

I just think it is a good thing that Daying has good officials like the Zichen brothers.

The reason why a ruffian like me can understand a little bit is simply because he is one of the lower-class people.

Looking at Ling Shumo wearing such shabby clothes, without a crown or a headband, his expression was calm, with no more changes except a slight smile.

It makes this person look even more independent from the world.

It's a pity that they are no longer brothers. With such a character, he is a person worthy of being worshipped as a deity.

Then, the atmosphere around them became awkward.

He didn't know what to say.

In fact, the most they had ever interacted with before was just that night of painting and a few occasional conversations.

Now that they were really getting close to each other, Bai Wan realized that apart from asking for advice on painting and asking about political matters that he didn't understand, he didn't know what to say at all.

If it were his other brothers, he would not have trouble finding topics to talk about. Eating, drinking, whoring, gambling and cheating were all things he could talk about.

But he knows.

The man in front of him had just experienced the death of dozens of his companions. To be able to remain so calm was a sign of strong determination. It was absolutely impossible for him to chat and laugh with him or talk nonsense.

Outside the window, the snow was falling harder and harder, as if it was going to swallow up the entire road.