Violent and sick beauty [interpenetration]

Yan Xingyu just found out the identity of this person, but he didn't understand his way for a while.

Jing Hanzhang looked at this man who seemed to be struggling to catch his breath, snorted, didn't say any more, let go of the curtain at will, and rode away directly.

Come and go like the wind.

Only Yan Xingyu was left to stare at the shaking car curtain for a long time, not knowing why.

After a while, the carriage arrived at Xiangfu.

Yan Xingyu was holding a piece of Poria cocos cake that Aman bought for him in his hand. It was freezing and the smell had dissipated a lot, but he didn't feel like eating it.

Hanruo Temple's carriage staggered into the Prime Minister's mansion, Aman was overjoyed, his eyes were not enough all the way, and everything he saw seemed fresh.

As the prime minister of Yasukuni, the emperor on the top, and the officials on the bottom, with such a distinguished status, Aman originally thought that the prime minister's residence must be extravagant, but he never thought that only the entrance of the prime minister's residence is more prestigious, and the inner house is not much different from ordinary wealthy people's houses.

The courtyard was covered with heavy snow, and the eyes were covered with snow, which added a bit of tranquility.

The carriage stopped after entering the prime minister's mansion, Yan Xingyu wrapped it in a thick cloak, the double doors behind the carriage were opened, and the wooden wheelchair slowly slid down the inclined wooden path, making a series of noises as the gears rubbed against each other.

Director Zhao of the Prime Minister's Mansion watched Yan Xingyu grow up, and when he saw that he was sick and torn, tears almost fell down his cheeks.

"Young master... I suffered."

Yan Xingyu smiled gently: "It's not bitter."

"How can it not be bitter?" Uncle Zhao looked at his pale face, feeling terribly distressed, "Places like Hanruo Temple are often places for monks to practice hard. You were so young back then, and your legs were injured. How can you be willing to send you to such a difficult and dangerous place to suffer because of that order?"

Seeing that he couldn't persuade him, Yan Xingyu had no choice but to say: "I'm back, haven't I?"

Uncle Zhao quickly wiped away his tears: "Yes, yes, it's good to be back, it's good to be back. I'm going to report to the master..."

As soon as he finished speaking, a man dressed in brocade just happened to walk over from the long corridor beside him, it was Prime Minister Yan Ji.

Yan Ji's years passed without confusion, and he wore the majestic aura that he had been in the court all year round. He was not angry and majestic, making people afraid to look directly at him.

Yan Xingyu's eyes were slightly bright, and he was holding the armrest of the wheelchair with his hands. Because of his eager movements, half of the cloak on his shoulders fell off - he was wearing such a thick cloak, and his body was extremely thin without the cloak.

"father."

Yan Ji raised his head and glanced at him, his eyes were sharp, like a sword drawn from its sheath.

"I'm back." His expression was indifferent, and he looked away after a blank glance, and ordered to Uncle Zhao, "Send the booklet on the chariot to the study."

Uncle Zhao was taken aback, he didn't expect Yan Ji to be so indifferent when he saw Yan Xingyu, so he froze for a while.

Yan Ji acted swiftly and resolutely, and didn't even wait for an answer after finishing his order, and walked past Yan Xingyu without looking sideways, leaving a sentence in a cold tone.

"Now that you're back, be safe."

Yan Xingyu grabbed the armrest with five fingers, his knuckles turned white.

Uncle Zhao saw Yan Xingyu's pale face on the side, and was about to speak bravely, but Yan Xingyu nodded, and said in a dull voice, "Yes, Xingyu remembered."

Yan Ji hurried away.

Uncle Zhao took Yan Xingyu to his yard with a worried face.

Although Yan Ji had a high position and authority, he was extremely frugal. After Yan Xingyu left the mansion for ten years, the Prime Minister's mansion did not change much.

Although the door of the side courtyard is dilapidated, the inner courtyard is in good order. The medicine garden is separated by a fence, and two peach trees are planted beside it. It also blooms like clusters of flowers.

Uncle Zhao welcomed Yan Xingyu in with a lamp, and whispered as he walked: "Now the court is in turmoil, and the princes are tossing and turning the city into a smog. The master is busy with court affairs all day long, and he didn't mean to treat the young master coldly."

Yan Xingyu lowered his eyes, and blinked his long eyelashes lightly, covering his somewhat gloomy pupils.

Whether it was a deliberate cold treatment, he knew in his heart.

After Uncle Zhao finished speaking, he also felt that the reason was unreasonable, so he laughed dryly: "The master said that the young master has been in Hanruo Temple for many years, so he must be happy and quiet. He asked us to clean up this courtyard a long time ago. Although it is remote, it is very quiet."

Yan Xingyu didn't speak.

"It's better to be far away from the main courtyard." Uncle Zhao hasn't seen Yan Xingyu for a long time, and he chattered non-stop, "Young master has been spoiled by his wife these years, and he still has a childish temper. I didn't know where I heard your words a few days ago. ... Gossip, alas."

Before he finished speaking, Yan Xingyu probably guessed it.

When Yan Xingyu left Beijing, his younger brother Yan Weiming was only three years old.

Although he was very attached to him back then, ten years later, things changed and people changed, let alone Yan Weiming, even he no longer remembered what that younger brother looked like.

He only returned to Beijing after ten years abroad, and his reputation was not very good when he left, so the people in the capital had to gossip.

Yan Weiming was still young, so it was normal for him to have a bad feeling towards him after hearing those groundless rumors.

Yan Xingyu didn't care.

Aman's cheeks puffed up with anger.

He finally figured out that his son's father was really nothing, it was nothing more than his son being so indifferent when he came back, and he even sent his son-in-law to such a remote place.

This is simply putting the "dislike" towards Yan Xingyu on the bright side. If it gets out, people outside don't know how to arrange it.

Uncle Zhao gave some instructions, and wrote down a few places in the courtyard that needed to be repaired, and left a few servants to take care of them.

Yan Xingyu was not used to being served by so many people, so he sent them all away.

After such a toss, Haishi has passed.

Fortunately, Yan Ji only treated him coldly and did not treat him harshly. Although this courtyard is remote, it has everything that should be there.

Yan Xingyu tidied up, leaned on the soft pillow with his eyes closed and fiddled with the Buddhist beads, his black hair was shawl, and his face was full of sleepiness, as if he could fall asleep at any time.

After an unknown amount of time, he moved the prayer beads several times and finished reciting the Buddhist scriptures in his mouth before slowly opening his eyes.

This is a habit he has developed in Hanruo Temple over the years.

He had some heart problems since he was a child, and he was most afraid of mental agitation, and the Buddhist scriptures can calm the mind.

Snow fell outside the window.

Yan Xingyu was weak and unable to open the window, so he could only see the falling snow petals from the cracks in the window lattice.

He raised his hand lightly, and the black cat that appeared in the corner at some point stretched, jumped onto the couch lightly, and awkwardly rubbed the slender fingers twice.

A rare smile appeared on Yan Xingyu's childish face, and he gently rubbed the black cat's head with his fingertips. The red mole under his left eye seemed to come alive, and it was so bright.

A series of footsteps came from the courtyard, and Yan Xingyu was taken aback for a moment, frowning slightly.

Soon, Aman pushed the door open, holding a bowl of black bitter medicine in his hand.

Yan Xingyu took the medicine bowl familiarly, sniffed it lightly: "Did you change the medicine?"

"Ah."

Yan Xingyu was used to drinking the medicine, and there was no rejection on his face, but his empty hands almost crushed the Buddhist beads.

He drank the medicine in one gulp.

Aman took the medicine bowl and said casually: "My lord, just now I saw someone coming to the side courtyard..."

"Hey, don't talk." Yan Xingyu said softly, with a gentle face and lowered eyes, "Go out first, I'm going to be angry soon."

Aman: "..."

Every time he took the medicine, it was so bitter that he felt angry with himself, and his son was the first one.

Yan Xingyu's anger was still not generated.

He was already physically weak, and after traveling from Jiangnan to Kyoto for half a month, the cold wind blew again today, and he started to have a high fever as soon as he lay down for a while.

Aman has long been familiar with this kind of thing, and skillfully boiled the medicine and brought it.

Yan Xingyu was so burned that he stared dazedly, and when he smelled the medicine, he instinctively reached out to knock it over.

Aman has long been used to it, and helped Yan Xingyu up, almost forcibly gulping down the medicine.

Yan Xingyu was lying sickly, the quilt was pulled up to cover half of his face, only a pair of watery eyes were exposed.

He was delirious with fever and murmured something.

Aman didn't hear clearly, and leaned forward: "What?"

Yan Xingyu said softly: "There are insects, and they want to copy Buddhist scriptures."

Seeing that he was in a coma from fever, Aman spoke incoherently, and carefully stuffed his hand resting on the edge of the bed into the quilt, coaxing him in a low voice: "Okay, I'll go fight the bugs."

Yan Xingyu's eyes were absent-minded, and the pupils seemed to be covered with a layer of misty glass.

He seemed to be complaining, or acting like a baby, and murmured: "There are a lot of bugs in Kyoto, I don't like it."

Aman coaxed and perfunctory: "Okay, if you don't like it, then kill them all."

Yan Xingyu answered vaguely, said a few more nonsense words, and finally couldn't hold back and fell into a drowsy sleep.

***

The news of Yan Xingyu's return to the capital spread throughout the capital almost overnight. In the early morning of the next day, some dignitaries in Beijing sent people to give gifts, and moved one by one to the prime minister's mansion.

Others knew very well that giving gifts was fake, but watching a show was real.

The prime minister, Yan Ji, is tyrannical and has made many enemies in the court. Those who have been suppressed all the year round will naturally not let go of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to watch a good show.

Everyone wanted to know whether the eldest son of the Xiangfu who was ordered to kill seven times by the national teacher and stayed in a remote place in the south of the Yangtze River for ten years was as vicious as the rumors said.

However, there are also people who sincerely come to give gifts.

The rare good weather in Kyoto, there is no wind at all.

Yan Xingyu's fever had subsided, his face was sickly, and he sat weakly on a wooden wheelchair basking in the sun. Aman was afraid that he would not be able to withstand the cold, so he put two more charcoal basins around him.

Yan Xingyu finished reading the Buddhist scriptures silently, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Aman coming from the door.

"My lord." Aman's face was full of joy, "Someone gave gifts again, and I saw a big piece of Xiuyan jade. The people in Kyoto are really rich."

Yan Xingyu knew that most of the people who couldn't wait to come to Xiangfu today had no good intentions, so he didn't say much, and said indifferently: "Have you bought my Fuling cake?"

Aman nodded, took out a piece of Poria cocos cake wrapped in paper from his arms, handed it to him, and said, "Oh, by the way, I also saw that someone sent a deer over."

Yan Xingyu squeezed the hand of Fuling cake: "Deer?"

"Well, it's very small, it seems to be only a few days old, and it keeps screaming there."

Yan Xingyu was thoughtful, wondering if he thought of the "Yan Xinglu" that the seventh prince who met for the first time yesterday said, he was stunned for a moment, and said: "Bring that deer."

Aman was squatting aside to tease the cat, when he heard this, he asked in confusion: "Ah? Didn't you just say that gifts from outside should not be sent here?"

Yan Xingyu: "Now I want it again."

Aman had no choice but to get up and go to the inner courtyard, and brought the fawn over.

The fawn must have been frightened, its whole body was trembling, it couldn't stand on all four hooves, and it fell three times when it took a step, it looked very pitiful.

Yan Xingyu saw the young deer for the first time, and it was very novel. He tilted his head and watched the deer scrambled and crawled to his legs, and looked at him with wet eyes.

Yan Xingyu sized it up, only to find that one hoof of this deer was injured, and it should have been smeared with medicine before it was sent. It smelled like a high-quality hemostatic medicine.

Even a deer is willing to use such a precious medicine...

Yan Xingyu raised his hand to stroke the deer's head, and said, "Who sent this deer?"

"The Seventh Prince Jing Hanzhang sent it to the man we saw outside the city yesterday."

Yan Xingyu was startled: "Jing Hanzhang..."

Aman said "Oh oh oh" a few times, took out a piece of paper from his pocket, and said: "I saw this in the cage where the deer was kept, take a look."

Yan Xingyu opened the paper, and there were three words written on it.

"Yanxing Deer"

The lower right corner is not signed, but seven impatient ink dots.

Yan Xingyu: "..."

It was rumored that His Highness the Seventh Highness acted recklessly, and it seemed that it was true.

Seeing Yan Xingyu's expression changed, Amansao almost crushed the piece of paper with his fingers, and asked suspiciously, "My lord, are you going to be angry?"

"Yes." Yan Xingyu was very straightforward, and he didn't know how to hide it. Even if he was angry, he behaved in an orderly and well-behaved manner.

Aman was about to find a place to hide, when he heard an earth-shattering shout from outside the yard.

"Where's Yan Xingyu?! Does he live in such a broken place?"

This voice sounds like an immature child, arrogant and arrogant.

Even if Yan Xingyu was angry, he was not as ferocious as when ordinary people were angry. He patiently folded the piece of paper neatly, put it close to his body in his skirt, and looked at the door calmly.

Soon, a half-grown child in fancy dress was rushed in by several servants, aggressive, those who didn't know thought he was here to seek revenge.

The child was about eleven or twelve years old, his childish face was full of arrogance that didn't fit his age, he looked like he was spoiled, and on such a cold day, he was holding a fan that was so angry.

Yan Weiming raised his eyebrows, his whole body was full of the aura of a dandy, and he was so proud that he almost turned his head back.

He said aggressively: "You are Yan Xingyu?"

Probably for the sake of gaining momentum, as soon as he entered the side courtyard, he opened the fan with a swish, and fanned himself several times with his hands frantically, blowing the hairband hanging from his long hair slightly.

Yan Xingyu shuddered as he watched the child without a trace.

Yan Xingyu: "..."

His little brother doesn't seem to be very smart.