Chapter 813: Chapter 488: Runaway Carriage (Part 2)
Zhang Huizhi put down the wine jug, “Hmm, okay.”
In the distance, the man holding a sword switched hands.
He glanced for a moment at Zhao Rong and Zhang Huizhi, who were laughing and drinking, then turned his gaze to the two carriages.
There, a thrifty woman sat upright beside a young boy, supervising him as he read.
From time to time, she glanced at her husband who was chatting and laughing with his friend.
On the other carriage.
An old servant with one eye carefully took out some dry food to eat, while another old servant with a face burned by fire buried his face, took out a smoking pipe and tobacco pouch, and took a few puffs, occasionally coughing.
The sound echoed on the grassy roadside where everyone was resting.
A lame old servant took out some fodder and fed the horse carefully.
Li Bai watched for a while, then withdrew his gaze, scratching an itch on his neck with his hand, occasionally muttering.
Who knows if he was complaining about the heavens.
“By the way, I wrote a fine piece today, Brother Ziyu, could you correct it for me?”
Zhang Huizhi gently patted the table, remembered something, and got up vaguely.
“I wouldn’t dare correct, just want to learn from Brother Huizhi’s masterpiece.”
“No, no… wait a moment.”
The tall and thin Confucian Scholar turned and walked to the carriage where the simple woman was to fetch the manuscript.
The young Confucian Scholar drank calmly, occasionally glancing at the distant Dragon Coffin.
The man holding a sword near them mumbled in boredom.
At the other carriage, after feeding the fodder he had in hand, the lame old servant turned back to the carriage, took the fodder passed over by the disfigured old servant, and returned.
The lame old man fed the fodder to the horse’s mouth.
At that moment, a sudden neigh sounded! The horse pulling the carriage reared up on its hind legs.
It seemed to be frightened and, the next second, it lost control and ran forward.
It knocked over the lame old man, pulling the large carriage, and charged forward recklessly.
The other old servants on the carriage swayed and stumbled.
Zhao Rong, who was drinking, suddenly became alert, quickly turned his head to see that a frightened, out-of-control horse was indeed charging towards him and was about to collide in the blink of an eye.
What was happening? Zhao Rong didn’t have time to frown.
In a flash, a fiery maple leaf slid down from his sleeve, caught by his left hand, ready to throw.
But the next second, his hand stopped moving, Zhao Rong’s eyes flashed with a sharp light, and his right hand swiftly blocked forward.
The carriage stopped.
PS: Brothers, refresh at midnight…
Zhao Rong turned his head and looked towards the south in the direction of Great Wei.
When he first arrived in the territory of Great Wei, Brother Sanbian once said that after being away from home for many years, the wine at home was still the spiciest.
“Before, on the way north to Du You City, I passed through a kingdom, I’ve forgotten…”
The young Confucian Scholar shook his head, not elaborating.
Zhang Huizhi nodded and poured Zhao Rong another glass of wine.
He didn’t put down the wine jug, turned, and looked at the man standing not far behind Zhao Rong, holding a sword.
“Does your attendant want to sit down and have a drink with us?”
Zhao Rong turned his head to look.
The man holding a sword shook his head, appearing to lack interest.
Zhao Rong shook his head, “No need, he doesn’t drink.”
Zhang Huizhi put down the wine jug, “Hmm, okay.”
In the distance, the man holding a sword switched hands.
He glanced at Zhao Rong and Zhang Huizhi, who were chatting and drinking, then turned his head, his gaze sweeping across to the two carriages.
Over there, a frugal woman sat beside a young boy, supervising his reading.
She occasionally turned her gaze to her husband who was laughing and talking with his friends.
On the other carriage.
An old servant with one eye carefully took out some dry food to eat, while a servant with a face disfigured by fire buried his face, pulled out a pipe and tobacco pouch, took a few puffs, and coughed occasionally.
The sound echoed across the grass by the roadside where everyone was resting.
A lame old servant carefully took out fodder to feed the horses. Zhao Rong turned to look towards the south, in the direction of Great Wei.
Back when I first arrived in the Great Wei territory, Brother Sanbian once said, after being away for years, the wine from home is still the strongest.
“On the way north to Du You City, we passed a dynasty, but I’ve forgotten…”
The young Confucian scholar shook his head and did not elaborate.
Zhang Huizhi nodded and poured Zhao Rong another cup of wine.
He didn’t put down the wine pot, turned and looked at the man in white standing not far behind Zhao Rong, holding a sword.
“Would your servant like to sit down and have a drink?”
Zhao Rong turned to look.
The man holding the sword shook his head, appearing not very interested.
Zhao Rong shook his head, “No need, he doesn’t drink.”
Zhang Huizhi put down the wine pot, “Alright, fine.”
The man holding the sword nearby switched hands to hold the sword.
He glanced at Zhao Rong and Zhang Huizhi, who were chatting and drinking, then turned his head, his gaze sweeping across to the two carriages.
Over there, a frugal woman sat beside a young boy, supervising his reading.
She occasionally turned her gaze to her husband who was laughing and talking with his friends.
On the other carriage.
An old servant with one eye carefully took out some dry food to eat, while a servant with a face disfigured by fire buried his face, pulled out a pipe and tobacco pouch, took a few puffs, and coughed occasionally.
The sound echoed across the grass by the roadside where everyone was resting.
A lame old servant carefully took out fodder to feed the horses. Zhao Rong turned to look towards the south, in the direction of Great Wei.
Back when I first arrived in the Great Wei territory, Brother Sanbian once said, after being away for years, the wine from home is still the strongest.
“On the way north to Du You City, we passed a dynasty, but I’ve forgotten…”
The young Confucian scholar shook his head and did not elaborate.
Zhang Huizhi nodded and poured Zhao Rong another cup of wine.
He didn’t put down the wine pot, turned and looked at the man in white standing not far behind Zhao Rong, holding a sword.
“Would your servant like to sit down and have a drink?”
Zhao Rong turned to look.
The man holding the sword shook his head, appearing not very interested.
Zhao Rong shook his head, “No need, he doesn’t drink.”
Zhang Huizhi put down the wine pot, “Alright, fine.”
The man holding the sword nearby switched hands to hold the sword.
He glanced at Zhao Rong and Zhang Huizhi, who were chatting and drinking, then turned his head, his gaze sweeping across to the two carriages.
Over there, a frugal woman sat beside a young boy, supervising his reading.
She occasionally turned her gaze to her husband who was laughing and talking with his friends.
On the other carriage.
An old servant with one eye carefully took out some dry food to eat, while a servant with a face disfigured by fire buried his face, pulled out a pipe and tobacco pouch, took a few puffs, and coughed occasionally.
The sound echoed across the grass by the roadside where everyone was resting.
A lame old servant carefully took out fodder to feed the horses.