novelraw Chapter 821 180: What Does It Have to Do with Me? (5)
Chapter 821 180: What Does It Have to Do with Me? (5)
However,
people are like this,
the more frightened they are, the more they want to do something to make up for their previous "loss of composure".
"Tsk tsk, extravagant, wasteful."
The Sword Saint was at Snow Sea Pass, forcefully opened the Second Rank, killed a wild general with a single sword, annihilated a thousand cavalry, and then he was burnt-out.
And then look at Tian Wujing now,
forcefully opened the Second Rank,
just to see his son once.
It's simply extravagant to an unimaginable degree.
"What should we do now?" A Ming asked.
"Nothing we can do, just wait here, or if you're itching for action, you can spar with Prince Jingnan?"
A Ming took out his water pouch, pulled the plug, and took a sip of blood.
Tasting it, he said:
"I feel like I've been triggered again just now."
"Envious?" the blind man asked.
"Envious."
Because he once had this kind of strength too.
"Take it slow, whether the train can run fast depends mainly on the engine."
"Crude words, but true."
"This time it should be quite challenging if Siniang hasn't advanced by tomorrow."
"That's just empty talk."
"What else can be said now? Say I've finally eaten all my oranges?
Oh, by the way, when we get to Snow Sea Pass, help me set up an off-season orchard, an orchard just for planting oranges."
"Okay."
"Aiya..."
The blind man stretched lazily,
and said:
"The road ahead is long and arduous."
...
Shatuo Queshi was sealed outside, motionless.
Tian Wujing walked into the tent and saw an infant, with little hands grasping the crib's rails, standing on tiptoes and looking at him.
The recent days when forty thousand Chu people created a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood,
were nothing compared to this infant's gaze,
for with this gaze,
the eyes of Lord Jingnan began to redden.
Some people are destined never to cry in their lives, nor are they suitable for crying.
Because they have been stripped of the right to "vulnerability," "loneliness," and "sadness."
Like Zheng Fan, in a life of warhorses and tight formations, he would intentionally set aside time and space to allow himself to be a bit sentimental.
In Lord Zheng's view, what is the meaning of life's struggle?
It's not for the sake of struggle itself, but to have the peace of mind to pause and enjoy the scenery after succeeding in the struggle, and the current scenery is uniquely beautiful.
Just as many people long for a pastoral life in the countryside,
for the wealthy, the countryside is pure land;
for the poor, the countryside is pure dirt.
This is also the goal of the Mo Wan lords; the current hibernation is for the future to indulge freely.
Rebellion, in fact, is not the main purpose; the main purpose is to free oneself from control.
Having been reborn, living life again, one must pursue true carefreeness.
However, Tian Wujing is different.
He has lost far too much, including... the future.
His life's end point is a grave that has long been prepared.
Yet even the most solid tombs are pierced in an instant in the gaze of an infant.
Tian Wujing walked to the infant, knelt on one knee, so he could look the child in the eye.
The child blinked wide-eyed, looking at this stranger.
The scene of deep father-son affection and long-awaited reunion does not suit him, because his world hasn't yet had any impurities and cannot contain too much emotion.
Tian Wujing reached out and gently caressed his son's face.
It could be seen that his son was very well cared for.
Zheng Fan, that guy, did not pocket the "wet nurse" money he gave.
The child seemed not very accustomed to this affection; in many cases, he usually played by himself, and previously, Mo Wan was there to keep him company, but Mo Wan hadn't been around lately.
So, he stepped back two steps, losing the support of the railing, and sat down on the ground, pouting, yet not crying, but quietly turning his body around, showing his little backside to his biological father.
What Tian Wujing didn't know was that Zheng Fan, this godfather, most loved to play the "spanking" game with his godson.
Fortunately, the young prince couldn't speak yet,
otherwise,
Lord Zheng might have...
Tian Wujing reached out and picked up his son.
An infant,
how could he resist a terrifying warrior capable of forcefully opening the Second Rank?
The young prince was sensible too; he didn't like affectionate gestures, true, but he also knew how to adapt.
He even looked up and gave Tian Wujing a smile,
then lowered his head to continue playing with his fingers.
The child's weight, really not heavy, very light, very light;
but when Tian Wujing held him in his arms, this prince of Yan, with tens of thousands of iron cavalry under his command, felt an overwhelming weight.
Yet, as a father, he had never been truly taught how to play with his child, to frolic with him.
No one could teach him, nor dared to teach him.
Even Zheng Fan, only in the capacity of a "godfather," could just beat around the bush a little.
So, holding the child, Tian Wujing seemed somewhat at a loss.
Suddenly,
the young prince began to struggle in a certain direction.
Tian Wujing gently set him down, and he crawled towards a bundle, and with his head, he nudged the bundle open.
Inside the bundle lay many snacks.
Siniang would secretly change them every now and then to prevent these snacks from going bad.
In this regard, Siniang was meticulous, after all, he was Tian Wujing's son, and if he really got sick from eating expired food, it would indeed be a big problem.