Grandpa is such a bird

The north of Xinjiang is not a place name, but the wild land outside the territory to the north of Dajing. The north of this place is a vast area.

However, due to the extremely remote geography and severe cold climate, although the land is vast but barren, there are no shades and fruits when the warbler flies and the grass grows.

So further north, it is rare to see the gathering of big countries, and most of them are nomadic people with tribes as their ethnic groups, and the Xuemo tribe is one of them.

Yin Chenglan read the short six words for a long time.

Lingjiang didn't know who sent the letter, but found that Yin Chenglan was obviously unwilling to accept the letter when he saw it, and when the letter was opened, he revealed emotions that he rarely had in his body—that kind of tenderness and preciousness. Be careful.

Lingjiang murmured in his heart, whoever sent the letter, it smells so fragrant, isn't he afraid of being smoked by the bird?

He stared at Lian Presse coldly, and met his gaze silently in mid-air.

--Who?

Lian Press Song raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth, and replied with two words.

But probably these two words were too unfamiliar to Lingjiang, so that he didn't realize what they were, and wanted to ask again, so Yin Chenglan said, "Does it have anything to do with you?"

Lingjiang's eyes dimmed.

Yin Chenglan carefully folded up the letter paper, put it back in the envelope preciously, and brushed off the remaining snow on the burden with a pretentious gesture, saying: "According to the song, the plan has changed, get ready, we are going to northern Xinjiang. "

After speaking, he controlled the wheelchair to go back into the house, and the wheels made two marks on the snow. Ling Jiang said coldly behind him: "You have always disagreed before."

Yin Chenglan didn't look back: "I've changed my mind."

Ling Jiang stared at his back: "Because of that letter?"

"It's none of your business."

There was a storm between Lingjiang's brows, he restrained his temper, didn't make a move, but couldn't help cursing: "Yin Chenglan, you bastard!"

Yin Chenglan tilted his head and patted the snowflakes off his shoulders: "To each other."

Manager Lian, who was watching from the sidelines, rolled his eyes around the two of them several times. Standing in the snow below his ankles in the freezing cold winter months, he felt a burst of crackling sparks out of nowhere. Getting angry and hurting the manager', he ducked to the side with discernment.

The master who was ten steps away turned his back to him and said, "Come here, push me into the house."

"Okay." Lian Presse immediately agreed, and gave Lingjiang a helpless look, and was about to turn around when Yin Chenglan said, "I'm talking about him."

Manager Lian froze when he just brought out his flattery and was about to pat on him to show his courteousness: "..."

Ling Jiang, who was beside him, strode over and kicked the back of the wheelchair. The snow was very slippery, and the wheelchair was suddenly stressed. It rolled away and went straight to the steps under the eaves. Yin Chenglan was about to fall all over the place, but fortunately, at the moment when he finally slipped and fell, he barely managed to stabilize his figure so that he would not be ashamed and thrown home.

Yin Chenglan sat down in the wheelchair with lingering fear, and thought: "I can't afford to offend, this bird is too cruel."

Turning her head, she pretended to maintain an expression of 'I'm not panicking' on her face, and asked doubtfully, "Is my mother related to you?"

Lingjiang's face was blank for a while, and seeing Yin Chenglan looking at him with a half-smile, he realized that he had fallen into a trap. His expression was still cold, but his black and white eyeballs looked arrogantly at the sky, and rolled his eyes : "I knew it was your mother."

Whispering, he walked to Yin Chenglan's side, supported the wheelchair, and said, "How do you know that it doesn't matter in the future? Didn't I ask clearly, so I can bring some gifts to her old man."

Yin Chenglan glanced at him with a smile, but didn't expose him.

Ling Jiang pushed the man back to the house, and closed the door with a "click".

The small courtyard of the ancient temple is covered with snow, quiet and quiet.

A gust of cold wind blew up and messed up Lian Presse's hair. He stood stiffly in the wind and messed up for a while, raised his head and looked at the sky, looking like he really wanted to cry out.

But because he was afraid of being buried by the avalanche, he had no choice but to hold back and cover his eyes silently.

Feeling blind.

After lunch, Yin Chenglan and Lian Presse went to meet Mr. Ruisi and his mother to discuss the postponement of the plan.

Ling Jiang stayed in the house by himself and didn't follow him. When he said no, Yin Chenglan was quite surprised. Ling Jiang lay on the bed and waved his hands. He was thinking hard about what gift to bring to Nineteen's mother, and he was not in the mood to listen to him. plan of.

What is appropriate to give, this is the first time we meet, and he has no experience at all.

Ling Jiang turned into a bird, lying on his back on Yin Chenglan's pillow, spreading his little wings, his paws facing the sky, and fell into a deep tangle.

As soon as Yin Chenglan entered the room, he saw a funny little bird on the pillow, with his fluffy little chest heaving and falling asleep.

Lian Yi took a look at the song and said, "This sleeping position is too weird."

Yin Chenglan was no longer surprised by the strangeness. He sat at the table and poured a cup of tea, and said coolly, "That's the weirdest posture you've ever seen."

He didn't know how he fell asleep with the tightly entangled marijuana flowers.

The speaker is unintentional, but the listener is intentional. His focus is on the weirdness, but he can't prevent Lian Dachang from being completely different from him, focusing on the word "posture" with all his attention, and even sneering while pressing the song, thinking: "This kind of thing is also a problem. Do you want to share it with me!" She was ashamed and desperately curious, "What kind of posture is it!"

Yin Chenglan said: "Let Qi Ying replace you, you take a few people with me to the north of Xinjiang, and start tomorrow."

He sighed, the only thing in this world that can shake his mind is the concubine mother.

Pressing the song repeatedly, sniffing the snot, and then regained consciousness from the charming picture in his mind, subconsciously touched his nose, fortunately there was no nosebleed, and replied vaguely.

Yin Chenglan held the teacup between his hands and looked down at the ups and downs of the tea leaves: "Fang Xin and tell Shanyue to let him—"

"Let him ignore it." The little yellow bird on the pillow woke up at some point, still in that flirtatious posture, only tilted its little head, looked at them, and said, "Your people don't move!" , let him find a chance to leave the palace."

Yin Chenglan: "Why?"

Lingjiang's small black eyes were so deep that he couldn't see the bottom: "If you want to play hard to get, you can only control the emperor if he stays away from the emperor. You still have time, so you must make the line longer. The longer the line, the more likely the fish will be hooked. "

Yin Chenglan gently stroked the rim of the cup with his fingers.

"We finally sent Shanyue into the palace." Lian Pressong said.

Ling Jiang looked at him contemptuously from between his claws: "That's when you didn't have time before."

He turned his head and said, "Your plan will only succeed if the emperor does not feel his existence but relies on his existence. Nineteen, I said that you can't let a coincidence turn into an ulterior motive."

Lian pressed the song and frowned, "But..."

Yin Chenglan, who had been meditating all this time, raised his eyes, indicating that he didn't need to talk about the song. He took a sip of tea, maneuvered the wheelchair and walked to the bedside: "How sure are you?"

Ling Jiang raised his little wings slightly: "Ten."

Yin Chenglan nodded, "Okay, just follow what you say, follow the song, and believe what he wants."

Even the chief manager was very confused, does one of its small wings represent ten fingers?

You must count the chances, and leave with confusion.

When there were no outsiders in the room, Yin Chenglan looked at the little yellow bird that looked like a quail that had overturned, and said, "Still up?" This gesture made him lose face.

Lingjiang kicked his claws and said depressedly: "Help me, my claws are numb and I can't get up."

Yin Chenglan: "..."

He lifted him up by pinching the paw in the shape of a sissy, and rubbed him for a while.

Ling Jiang pouted his ass, and buried his head under the pillow in distress: "You can tell me what I want to give."

Yin Chenglan looked at the soaring tail wings on his buttocks, moved his lips, but was still speechless.

They left as they said, packed up their things that night, and rearranged the hidden guards and organs around the ancient temple overnight. Waiting at the gate of the temple.

The white snow on the distant mountain reflects the green cypress, a leisurely and clean place, and a red brick path was swept out in front of the gate of the ancient temple, winding and extending to the distance.

The beauty here is like a painting, and if you casually lower your eyes, it will be a celebrity calligraphy with a quiet mood.

Ruisi and his mother saw each other off at the door.

Yin Chenglan stopped in front of the carriage, handed the cloak in his hand to Ruisi, motioned him to put it on for his mother, and said to the woman, "Mushi, can you wait any longer?"

Simu Shi nodded, took a deep breath, looked at the endless mountains in the sky, and suddenly smiled: "Master Nineteen can bear it, there is nothing I can't bear."

She smiled very charmingly, with a maturity that has been washed away by the years, but she is still very young, but she is no longer a girl: "Although I hate him, I hope that the nineteenth master can find him smoothly." The antidote, the poison on my body."

She returned the cloak to Yin Chenglan, walked to his side and put it on him, carefully tied a knot on his neckline with her slender fingers, took out the veil from her bosom, wiped off the melted water drops from Yin Chenglan's forehead, and put the veil into him. In his hand, he said: "Rui Si is still waiting to grow up to be filial to you."

Yin Chenglan laughed, took the handkerchief, and patted her hand: "Take care."

Turn around and jump on the carriage.

The wheels rolled slowly, and Yin Chenglan opened the curtains to watch the figures of the woman and the boy in front of the ancient temple gradually fade away, until they became blurred in the wind and snow, and he could no longer see anything clearly, so he put down the curtains, feeling a little lost Floating between the eyebrows.

"You still miss her!" The little yellow bird got out of his sleeve.

Yin Chenglan was puzzled: "My son, let me think about what's wrong."

Ling Jiang flew up, picked up the handkerchief embroidered with peach blossoms with one claw and held it in front of Yin Chenglan: "Then what about this one?"

Yin Chenglan slapped him off like a mosquito: "No nonsense."

Ling Jiang transformed into a human form and came to Yin Chenglan's side, stretched out his arms, and wanted to hug him into his arms, but Pavilion Master Yin sat still like a monk, and Ling Jiang couldn't hug him, so he had to lean into his arms, shake off the veil, Pointing to the verse between the pink peach blossom embroidery on the top, read: "There are deer in the peach forest, and beautiful women are rare. Could it be you who wrote it?"

Yin Chenglan frowned slightly, grabbed the handkerchief, held it in his hand and turned it into powder with internal force, and said lightly: "Besides Ruisi, this is the only thing that the emperor left her."

Hearing this, Ling Jiang turned serious and thought: "If she still can't forget, will it affect..."

"No." Yin Chenglan was uncomfortable by Lingjiang's leaning, so he moved his shoulders. Lingjiang took advantage of the situation to find a comfortable position in his arms, and turned his legs into an uncle.

Yin Chenglan said: "I understand her."

He turned his head and looked at the white snow outside, remembering not only nostalgia, but also grudges.

A month later, they arrived at the northern border of Xinjiang from Lizhou.

They were used to seeing the snow all the way, and when they appeared in northern Xinjiang, looking at the vast and endless snowfield, they couldn't help but take a deep breath.

No matter how heavy the snow falls in Dajing, it is only a few feet thick, and outside the north of Xinjiang, it is really snowy and windy, and it is vast for thousands of miles.

As far as the eye can see, the sky and the snow are connected together, inseparable. Half a day's journey northward, half of the carriage was buried in the heavy snow, and it was almost impossible to move an inch.

"I'm afraid this is the biggest snowfall in northern Xinjiang in decades." Lian Presse wrapped his little padded jacket tightly, sinking in the heavy snow from the waist down, and grabbed a handful of snow that was already as high as the shaft of a car. , Said: "Master, I'm afraid I won't be able to leave before the snow stops."

Yin Chenglan glanced out: "Go to the nearby village and find Yan Chu's whereabouts first."

Lian pressed the song and jumped on the horseback, looking into the distance: "But the snow is too heavy, and the direction is hard to identify."

At this time, Ling Jiang flew out of the carriage, and his little milk-yellow body was covered with a small cotton vest with a strange shape. Two wings and claws were exposed from specially cut holes for Does not affect his flight.

When I saw the song, I laughed stupidly, with snowflakes spraying out of my mouth: "What the hell is this?"

Ling Jiang fluttered his little wings and glanced at Yin Chenglan.

Pavilion Master Yin, who was idling in the carriage, turned a pair of small scissors in his hand, the sharp blade flashed a cold light, and he said faintly: "The Chief Manager looks quite cold too, wait a minute, this Pavilion Master will also make you a pair of scissors." .”

Lian Pressing Song immediately waved his hands and pursed his lips tightly, but when he looked at the little yellow bird, the muffled laughter still came out uncontrollably.

Half an hour later, Ling Jiang was leading the way in the snow, and even the chief executive was driving the carriage, sitting on the shaft of the carriage. The expensive and elegant cloak was forcibly wrapped with a small vest of the same style as the little yellow bird.

Double-click the song: "..."

He doesn't want to talk.

Yin Chenglan sat leisurely in the carriage, put his hands in his hands, and said casually: "I don't like to idle around."