Chapter 102: Save Chen Pingping in the Rain

The rain in early autumn became heavier and heavier, and it fell on the ground and blossomed, and it fell on the body to wet the clothes, and it fell on the heart. The square in front of the palace was covered by misty mist and rain, and the sight was full of wet world.

Everyone's eyes were looking at the small wooden platform in the autumn rain, and at the two people on the stage, with a dead silence around them. I don't know what emotions were infected and controlled by them. No one spoke or moved. I just looked at it like this, and my eyes condensed on the stage through the heavy rain and fog.

Hundreds of imperial guards, the masters of the inner court and the ascetic monks who celebrated the temple were so nervous and solemnly, like a stagnant wooden man.

In just a moment, several people had died in the hands of Lord Xiao Fan. The most important thing was that the rain was falling so fiercely. They didn't know what kind of emotions were shining in the eyes of the Supreme Lord of the Nine Five on the top of the palace.

Yan Bingyun had already reacted from the shock when he first saw Fan Xian's figure, lowered his head and began to prepare for what might happen next. He used a very low voice to command the most loyal subordinates around him. These voices were covered in the rain and no one heard them. However, several spies of the Supervisory Institute wearing ordinary clothes had begun to squeeze in the direction of the court in the crowd.

At the city of the palace, all the officials and people were shocked by the scene where Fan Xian came with blood on his horse's hooves, drew his sword in the rain, and untied his clothes and covered the old man's body. The first person to react was He Zongwei, who was the highest-ranking person in charge of the imperial palace at this time, and was responsible for the sentence.

When Fan Xian rushed into the sea of ​​people, he had already reacted. With the fastest speed and the most inconspicuous movement, he quietly left the range of the small wooden platform and hid his figure behind the officials and guards. Through many masters, his eyes passed through the wet shoulders and hats. Looking at Fan Xian holding Chen Pingping's thin body alone and sadly on the small wooden platform, a complicated emotion flashed in He Zongwei's eyes. He just didn't want to die, but he had to let both young and old on the wooden platform die.

There were many people who didn't want to die. At this time, Fan Xian's body was filled with a hint of heart-wrenching chill, which made the cold autumn rain between the world unable to suppress. Everyone subconsciously left the wooden platform. Eunuch Yao had already retreated into the team. He didn't want to be the next grass dog to be used by the young master to sacrifice to Chen Pingping.

There were a few corpses scattered around the wooden platform, and the blood was quickly diluted by the autumn rain. The executioner of the Ministry of Justice, who was trembling all over and holding a sharp knife, became the closest person under the wooden steps. He looked at Lord Xiao Fan on the stage and found that Lord Xiao Fan lowered his head deeply and hugged Dean Chen tightly in his arms, as if he could not sense any other sounds in the world. He was shocked and quietly retreated to the wooden platform.

After only two steps back, the executioner's throat broke with a loud noise, his head fell heavily into the rain, and the headless body also fell from the stage. He let out a heavy sound.

Everyone around was shocked and stared at the stage. Only those with extremely high cultivation level could notice that Fan Xian's hand moved slightly in the moment. A black dagger flew out and then fell into the rain.

Fan Xian sat cross-legged on the wooden platform, sitting in the eyes of the crowd, but seemed to be unable to sense any gaze at all. He just hugged Chen Pingping's body, buried his head very low, and let the rain fall from his head, and his back looked slightly hunched.

The old man in his arms was very light in weight. He held it in his arms like a ball of wind. This ball of wind could dissipate at any time. Under his slightly messy hair, Fan Xian's pale ground twitched slightly, subconsciously reached out his hand, held Chen Pingping's cold and old hand, held it tightly, and never let go.

The old man has experienced so many pains in this life. He has been disabled for half his life. His qi and blood in his body have long been exhausted. Today, when he was lingchi, he did not burst out much blood except for pain. However, the torture of so many swords still caused the blood to gather in one place, wetting the black inspector's official uniform that Fan Xian covered him. It was a little sticky, a little hot, and a little hot.

In the autumn rain, Fan Xian gently hugged his thin body, for fear that he would hurt again, and held his cold hand tightly, for fear that he would just leave like this.

"If you don't want to come back, who can let you come back? What are you doing to drag me to Dongyi City?" Fan Xian whispered in a hoarse voice, his dry lips were soaked in the rain, and they were a little peeling, looking very pitiful, "Who did I work hard for and whom I have been working hard for over the years? I just want to let you old guys leave Kyoto and live a good life. I have been working hard..."

"You know I know everything." Fan Xian's head lowered a little, leaned gently against the old man's wrinkled cheeks, and his body gently shook in the rain, as if he was coaxing the old man in his arms to sleep.

The hand suddenly tightened, and the old man's hand tightened Fan Xian's hand. However, the power of his entire life could not even hold one hand tightly at this time. I don't know if he was reluctant to let go or fear something, so he wanted to hold something in the wind and rain and blood all over the ground.

Like a knife slowly tearing his heart apart, Fan Xian looked at the old man in his arms in cold and fear, knowing that the other party could no longer hold on, he subconsciously clenched the hand, and even his fingers began to turn white and began to hurt slightly.

Chen Pingping's turbid and scattered eyes slowly moved in the rain, seeing the familiar palace, seeing the sky covered with rain and clouds, and seeing the blurry figure of the emperor at the top of the palace, but not clearly seeing the person's face. Then he saw Fan Xian's face beside him. A smile flashed in the old man's turbid but clear eyes.

The old man knew that he was leaving the world where he had lived for the rest of his life, his eyes gradually dimmed, and he could not hear any sounds in the world clearly, and the light in front of him gradually turned into some strange shapes.

At this moment, perhaps his legendary life flashed quickly in front of his eyes like a slide. Little eunuch, Donghai, that woman, the inspectorate, the black cavalry. Another woman, dead people, conspiracy, revenge, all kinds of pictures flashed by in front of his eyes, forming a white line that was afraid to look directly. However, no one knew what he saw before his death, and what he wanted to see the most.

——Is it the soil splashed in the fight in Prince Cheng’s mansion? Is it a plum blossom blooming in the winter in Taiping Villa? Is it a shallow pond fish swimming freely in the backyard of the gloomy building of the Supervision Office? Is it a matte shirt in the mountains in the north? Or the little boy in Danzhou City who has entrusted all his emotions and hopes for the rest of his life?

In the sound of wind and rain, Chen Pingping suddenly heard some sounds, which were the songs, graceful and familiar songs, which he had heard countless times in Chen Garden. Those concubines were beautiful, those songs were beautiful, the old man was ups and downs in the dark, but he had the most gentle wish to collect beauty and love beauty. If tragedy was to destroy the beauty of the world to others, then Chen Pingping was just destroying what he thought was ugly and dirty in this life. He devoted himself to ugliness and dirty, and then looked at all beautiful things from afar.

"If I hear the sound of rain, who will be happy? Climbing mountains and ridges, the sound of joy in the rain, I will be happy..."

This is a song that the women in Chenyuan once liked very much. It was played in Chen Pingping's ears again in the wind and rain. He opened his eyes with difficulty and looked at the people in the sky and the earth. Listening to the graceful voice, his blood-free lips slightly fluttered, as if he was singing along, but he did not sing.

Chen Pingping suddenly looked at Fan Xian and asked: "Box..."

Fan Xian smiled uglyly and said in the old man's ear: "It's a gun, a firearm that can kill people far away."

This was probably Chen Pingping's last question in her life, so at the last moment he asked. Hearing Fan Xian's answer, the old man's eyes lit up slightly. He seemed to have not thought that it was this answer. He was a little surprised and relieved. He made a sound in his throat and gasped in a hurry. A look of coldness and arrogance appeared on his face and said:

"This...thing...I...have too."

Fan Xian didn't say anything, but just sat in the autumn rain, hugging him gently, shook his head gently. He felt that the old body in his arms became softer and softer, while the old palms tightly held in his palms became cooler and cooler. Until the end, there was no temperature anymore.

Chen Pingping died, and died in Qiuyu in the arms of the little boy he cherished the most. Before he died, he learned the truth about the box, and there was still a hint of coldness and arrogant expression on his face.

Fan Xian hugged his cold body in a blankly manner, lowered his head and said softly to the old man's cold face. Suddenly, he felt that the wind and rain were like a knife, cutting off his body, making him extremely painful and unable to bear it. The pain burst out from his heart and moving forward towards every inch of his skin, like a lingchi, and finally exploded.

A loud cry suddenly broke out on the small wooden platform in the autumn rain, crying heartbroken, crying torn the heartbroken, crying sorrow that it hurts the autumn rain, crying so sad that it dares not fall, and crying thousands of people can't bear to listen...

Twenty years since his rebirth, Fan Xian has never cried. Even when his eyes were wet, he was forced to suppress him. No one in this world had ever seen him cry, and no one had ever seen him cry so thoroughly, so sad, and thousands of emotions were all revealed in this loud cry.

Tears could not blur his face, but they only washed away all the dust left on his face and the dust that could not be washed away by the autumn rain.

Just as the autumn rain cannot stop, tears cannot stop, it just flowed out of his eyes with endless sadness.

The cry of the small wooden platform on the Dharma field penetrated the autumn wind and rain, spread throughout every corner of the palace, and pierced into everyone's ears. I don't know how many people suddenly felt sad and chilled in their hearts.

However, this sound fell into the ears of some people, and a strong sense of fear arose, which is also a clear signal.

Dean Chen finally died.

I don’t know if anyone would be secretly happy or relieved because of this fact. However, none of the officials in the storm showed any emotions on their faces. Sorrow might flash in some eyes, but more of them remained solemn and slightly nervous, and a faint feeling of confusion in their hearts.

One of the pillars of the Daqing Dynasty was broken like this. Those civil servants who had been suppressed by the Dark Supervision Institute for decades were a little relieved. The civil servants who were as strong as water and fire in the court dispute suddenly felt cold. The ancestors of the Supervision Institute died like this? They seemed to find it difficult to accept this fact for a while, because in their eyes, this terrifying figure covered in black fog seemed to never die.

Countless people have thought of countless pictures because of Chen Pingping's death. Regarding the pictures in the past few decades of Qing Dynasty, no one dares to deny the achievements Chen Pingping has established for the Qing Dynasty. In this historical scroll, the thick black ink balls used to light up the sun are the local supervisory agency built by this person and this person. Without this ink ball. How can this scroll have the spirit?

When Fan Xian's cry penetrated the wind and rain and arrived at the high palace city, no one noticed that the Emperor Qing, who was wearing a dragon robe and was extremely subtle, made an extremely subtle move. His whole body owed a little, about the distance between two fingers. After a moment, His Majesty the Emperor strongly straightened his waist again, and kept his ruthless face from the magic site with the bloody smell in the rain, and then to the initial distance.

It is certainly no one noticed that His Majesty the Emperor's hands, hidden in the sleeves of the dragon robe, were slowly clasped.

At this moment, watching the old servant die after decades of his old companion, the old servant die. The old guy who watched him die from an inconspicuous prince to the most dazzling and powerful man in the world, resolutely die. What is the emperor's thoughts? What is his feeling? Is it a kind of emptiness that comes from the deepest part? Or is it a kind of anger that even he himself cannot explain clearly and does not know where it comes from?

Yan Bingyun lowered his head deeply under the palace city, pressing lower than all the officials beside him. His body was facing the direction of the court. Through the rain curtain, he could see the indifferent appearance of Lord Xiao Fan holding the old dean's body. His body trembled slightly, and he thought of what the old dean had said to him in the corner building of the Supervision Bureau.

One day, I will die, Fan Xian will go crazy...

Yan Bingyun suddenly raised his head, took a deep breath, wiped away the rain from his face, and continued to issue orders to all parties in secret, the spies hidden in the group of people who were observing the prison may take action at any time, compressing the madness that might happen next into a minimum range. Of course, Yan Bingyun hopes that none of this will happen.

The man died. Although the punishment of Lingchi was not completed intact, the executioner was cut in half by Fan Xianhan's grievances, so there was no need to continue. The autumn rain still landed in such a sad way, but no one left in the square in front of the palace. It seemed that everyone knew what might happen next.

The ascetics surrounding the field slowly approached the small wooden platform. The hats on their heads covered the rain from the sky and covered the original expressions on their faces. Fan Xian seemed to be unable to sense the danger below the stage, but he was sitting on the wooden platform ignorantly. He still hugged Chen Pingping's body and did not put it down.

The tears had already mixed with the rain and gradually stopped. Fan Xian suddenly stood up, but his body was a little shaking. It seemed that the thousands of miles of running around for several days and nights had already consumed him to the extreme. Today, the anger and sadness that had hit his heart was even more debilitating.

However, the figure in the rain on the wooden platform shook, which shocked the people around the wooden platform and subconsciously retreated half of their body.

Fan Xian hugged Chen Pingping's body indifferently and walked down the wooden platform without even looking at these people. It seemed that these people just didn't exist.

These people surrounded the wooden platform, waiting for the orders of the Supreme Lord of Nine Five in the palace.

His emperor's emperor looked at the scene under the imperial city with pale complexion. Extremely complex emotions flashed in his deep eyes. From the fact that the matter of the Hanging Temple was based on the fact that his son was a person who valued love and righteousness. Although he did not expect that Fan Xian would come back today, he did not find it strange to see this scene.

Even our Emperor Majesty was not worried. In his heart, he thought Anzhi was a poor child blinded by Chen Pingping, the old black dog. Perhaps Anzhi still doesn't know how much Chen Pingping wanted to kill him, to kill all my sons, and to make me die... But when he looked at Fan Xian Xiaosuo's figure, the emperor was a little sad and angry, sad by what Fan Xian showed, and angry at the old dog Chen Pingping, even if he died, he still easily took away the heart of his favorite son.

Just like the woman who has been dead for many years.

The emperor was silent for a long time, and the injury that had been forcibly suppressed by him gradually cracked due to the stimulation of his mind. Blood seeped from his chest and abdomen to the dragon robe outside, which was particularly thrilling.

He brushed his sleeves and left the palace city with a cold face.

Under the palace, Fan Xian hugged Chen Pingping's body, left the small wooden platform soaked by rain and blood, and walked towards the west of the square. He walked very slowly and heavily, until now, he did not look at the head of the palace.

Your Majesty has left, and there is no longer a dare to block Fan Xian in this world. Everyone subconsciously made way for a road. The crowd was like a sword cut open on the sea, and the waves gradually rose, splitting a road where you could see the reefs.
Chapter completed!