That winter.
Zhong Wu held the Spring Rain Sword, his eyes were calm, and he said in a gentle tone: "The swaying leaves send cold sounds, and the autumn wind on the river stirs up guest sentiment. I know there are children teasing..."
"Zhong Keqing!! Don't read any sour poems to me! I'm illiterate." Xie Zhou glanced at him and said softly.
"... I know that there are children picking up knitting, and a lamp is shining on the fence late at night." Zhong Wu smiled lightly, but Xie Zhou couldn't see how happy he was, "Xie Dengming, what a good name this is."
"Zhong Keqing, you, you are doing well." Xie Zhou smiled, turned around and said.
"What is written in the poem is right, I am a guest, and it is limited to a guest." Zhong Wu pulled out the Spring Rain Sword in the heavy snow, and threw it into the snow with a clang.
Xie Zhou turned around and walked away without looking back.
Zhong Wu shed tears at his back, but he still smiled and saluted, saying softly: "Thank you, General."
He always called Xie Zhou "Dengming", but this time he called him "General".
He rescued him from the execution ground and gave him a personal sword, Chunyu, and he could never leave him again.
He was rescued by his quick horse, and he also gave him a precious bamboo flute - the sound of coldness, which has been by his side ever since.
The general's illness is so serious that I miss him deeply.
Zhong Wu, the son of the guilty minister, rode his horse and whipped his whip into the sky
One is carefree and sassy, the other is weak.
This is a story with no consummation, and it is no longer a reunion.
The world is wonderful, and I still have the taste when I recall it, including the smell of the bamboo flute and the salted duck made by Zhong Wu that year.
How nice.
Purpose: Practice martial arts well and beat people every day [No]