Nightfall

The Big Black Horse thought that it made no sense.

But since she was heaven, everything that she thought could produce unnatural results.

The Big Black Horse had just run hundreds of meters in a short time. Therefore, she returned to the grassland with her hands behind her back.

It had given up the idea of running away and listlessly followed behind her. Her blue dress looked tight on her because she was plump. The Big Black Horse looked at her back and shuddered.

Then it remembered the Calligraphy Addict, who looked slender in the same color clothes, and sighed inwardly. “Ning Que, I told you that woman was better, but you never listenedto me!”

When they returned to the place that she had found it, she saw the black carriage. She entered it quietly and found the broken Big Black Umbrella and the iron box in the corner.

She sat down next to the iron box, stroking it with her fingers and wiping the dust off. Her fingers were very steady and the box became clean instantly.

She looked toward the Tianqi Mountains in the south and fell silent. The Big Black Horse saw this and just knew what it should do next, so it raised its hoofs and was about to go.

Its sweat trickled out of its black skin and wet its dirty mane. It was pissed because even though it had tried its best, it still could not pull the carriage.

She stretched out her right hand and touched the wall of the carriage. A blue light flashed and the talisman of the walls was started. Then the carriage was able to move.

If they wanted to go through the Tianqi Mountains, they would have to pass through Helan City. The Tang Army had retreated to the south, and only a dozen Tang soldiers were left. The city was empty.

Although they were short-handed, when they saw the black carriage approaching, they still picked up their weapons and got prepared. Just then, she opened the curtain and took a look at them.

The gate of Helan City, which even the Golden Palace could not open, slowly opened under her gaze. The black carriage entered the city and passed through the gorge, heading toward the Eastern Wilderness.

Not until the black carriage had disappeared did they finally revive, feeling confused and shocked. They knew exactly what had happened, but they did not know why they had done that.

The black carriage passed through the Eastern Wilderness and the border villages. It entered the Yan Kingdom and continued on, heading for the south. The trip was mountainous and desolate and she never spoke.

One day, they arrived at a small town between the Yan Kingdom and the Song Kingdom. It was so small that it only had one street. The buildings in the town were old and broken, filled with bad smells and rotten vegetable leaves.

The town was remote and had not been involved in a war, but the people had been affected. All the businesses aside from those dealing with food had declined. The butcher’s shop was the only one on the street, which should be crowded on sale days, but it was so quiet today that even the flies felt bored.

The black carriage stopped in front of the shop. She went out of the carriage. When she saw her breasts in the tight clothes, she frowned again. She hated her body.

Although the business was not good, the butcher was in a good mood. He did not count on this shop to make a living. At this moment, he was cutting some marinated ribs for his next meal.

Hearing the footsteps, he looked up and was stunned when he saw the girl in blue. He was wondering who she was and why he did not remember her.

Then he continued to cut the ribs. His knife was sharp and heavy. As he hacked down, the meat residue would be thrown into the air and the thick chopping board would shake.

She walked over to him and watched quietly, as if she was very interested in what he was doing.

The butcher just kept cutting.

Then he sped up his breathing like a sick old man. His chest was moving up and down like a bellows and his hand holding the hilt began trembling.

He felt more and more scared, and his speed of cutting the ribs became faster and faster. He felt the knife get heavier and heavier and he did not even dare to wipe the sweat off his forehead. The sweat fell down onto the ribs and was smashed by the knife, melting into the meat.

As his hands continued to tremble, he finally chopped onto his finger.

With a muffled sound, the waist-high board cracked, spraying out a vast amount of fat and wood.

The knife did not stop after it chopped the board in half. A deep crack appeared on the ground, which was dark as if it had no bottom. Only the sound of water could be heard and it belonged to the underground river.

What a terrifying knife! It had landed on his finger instead of the chopping board, but it cracked the ground all the way to underground.

However, this terrifying knife had not cut his finger off, it just left a shallow white mark.

What was this man made of? No matter what he was made of, under her peaceful gaze, he was going crazy.

Looking at the ribs all over the ground, the butcher opened his mouth, revealing his yellow teeth, and was about to cry out as if he was laughing at himself. Suddenly, he threw his heavy knife to the ground, crouched down holding his head with his hands, and began crying. He still did not dare to look at her face.

“The marinated ribs may be too fatty. I will steal some cordate houttuynia from the palace. That is the best condiment to be cooked with the meat, they…”

A drunkard came in from outside. He was murmuring until he saw the crack and the butcher, who was crying like a child that was seeing a ghost.

He opened his mouth and wanted to say something but he discovered that his throat was too dry to make a sound. Only the flagon hanging on his waist shook in the cold wind, making a whooshing sound.

He looked at the girl in blue and his face turned pale in one second. He was in shock because he could not understand anything in front of him and did not know how this had happened.

The butcher’s shop was silent.

The drunkard gradually calmed down, at least he looked a little more normal. He hoarsely said, “Can I know who you are? Where are you from and where are you going?”

For the girl, the last two questions were not the real questions, but the first question was. Therefore, she thought for a moment, putting her hands behind her back. She was looking at some place in the world and thinking of her past.

The flagon stopped swinging, but the chilly wind still continued.

In the twinkling of an eye, the drunkard disappeared from the butcher’s shop.

The drunkard went to the large levee of the Sea of Storm in the Kingdom of Song, and then he went to Lanke Temple. After that, he went to a nest of a group of water bandits in the middle of Great Lake. He even went to Chang’an and stopped in front of the Academy for a long time. However, eventually, he chose to go to some small island in the depths of the South Sea because he believed that Chen Mou would not make a mistake.

He just stayed on that island, which was full of hot fog, for a short while. This short time was the sun rising and falling three times, as well as the tide going out and coming in three times.

The drunkard had spent those three days dawdling, thinking only of one thing. In order to accomplish that, he was willing to suffer a great loss. In order to avoid her, he would do anything that could keep him alive.

The drunkard stood on a black rock in the morning, looking toward the far north. He had tried his best but he was still unable to see the mainland. He considered it a relief rather than a sadness. At this moment, he thought he could probably sympathize with Chen Mou during those years.

Even if he could not step on the mainland, so what?

In his lengthy life, besides the last Everlasting Night, he had only had this kind of “Treme” feeling one other time—when he saw the broken carriage being dragged by an old yellow bull entering the small town.

Even those two times were not as thrilling as this one. The drunkard felt lucky for himself, but sorry for the butcher. And when he was happy, he needed to drink.

As he took the flagon off his waist and lifted it to his mouth, a white-jade hand came and took it away through the sea breeze.

The hand was so natural and casual. No one could refuse it.

She picked up the flagon and began drinking, dripping the wine on her blue dress before drinking it all up.

She threw the flagon back to the drunkard.

Then they returned to the small town together.

Three days had passed. The town was smellier but not a thing had changed in the butcher’s shop. The butcher stood in the corner with his head lowered, not crying or running away.

The drunkard was limitless and boundless. Three days was merely his one flash of thought. His realm was really profound. He might have understood the most advanced rules of time and space in the world of Haotian.

However, she was Haotian and this was her world. She was the rule. No matter how deep they understood the rule, they were still in the rule. How could they get away from her?

“Good wine,” she looked at him and said.

This was the first time she had spoken in the world. Her voice was so flat, expressing no emotion. It did not sound mechanical but it was blank, quiet, transparent, and void.

She had only said two words, but they sounded like countless syllables. It was as complex as a beautiful song of nature.

Everyone would be in awe when they heard this sound. The higher the level they were at, the more they could feel in her voice and the more eager they would like to worship such a great being.

That included the drunkard and the butcher.