Song Yuanhuanzhi

Seeing this, the subordinates next to Fu Yuanzhi quickly kicked Fu Xuelin out.

The subordinate had already drawn his sword, but suddenly he remembered that the other party had just called him his cousin. He was unsure of his thoughts and did not dare to cut off the other party's hand with his sword.

Fu Xuelin was kicked to the wall and hit the table when he fell. I have to say that the quality of Fan's furniture was really good. Fu Xuelin's head bled from knocking on it, and the table didn't even move.

Fu Yuanzhi's hands were bloody, and the dagger stained with his blood was falling to the ground. When Fu Xuelin flew out just now, he also pulled out the dagger.

Fu Yuanzhi stared blankly at the wound. Song Yi, who was beside him, came to his senses and quickly took out the handkerchief from his arms. Looking at the dirty handkerchief, thinking about what his sister had said before, he was afraid of infection, so he grabbed the handkerchief of the person next to him. The weapon cut off the curtain from the pillar on the side and gave it to Fu Yuanzhi to bandage.

If you want to ask why you didn't ask the people in Chaohuang Pavilion for it, do you think these gangsters would still wear the handkerchief when they go on a mission to kill people?

Don't even think about it.

"Brother-in-law, there's too much blood, let's go to the hospital first?" Song Yi asked worriedly.

Damn it, after being in Dali Temple Prison for so long, they didn’t even break a layer of skin, but when they came out, they were all red.

Are the days of the Fan family's rebellion over?

It probably didn't count.

How can such a day be considered an auspicious day?

After Fu Yuanzhi waited for Song Yi to tie the cloth belt, he also came to his senses. His voice could not hear the fluctuation, and he said slowly: "Wait a moment, you go to rest first."

Song Yi wanted to say something else, but the people on the side made a gesture of invitation to Song Yi.

Fu Yuanzhi didn't want Song Yi to see him next.

Fu Yuanzhi stepped into the light from the moonlight, and the wound on the back of his hand turned red on the cloth belt.

Fu Xuelin, who fell to the ground and never got up, was in pain and wanted to get up, but he couldn't find a point of strength and could only toss back and forth repeatedly.

Every step Fu Yuanzhi took struck his eardrums and heart.

Fu Yuanzhi picked up the bloody dagger on the ground, and then squatted down in front of Fu Xuelin.

Fu Xuelin knew that he couldn't get up now, and he was unwilling to move again.

Fu Yuanzhi used a dagger to push the hair away from Fu Xuelin's face, with a hint of doubt in his tone: "Why do you do this?"

A deep bitter smile came from Fu Xuelin's chest. The bitter smile contained unwillingness, regret, and resentment.

Unwilling to accept it, he finally ended up in this situation after ten years of hardship.

The regret is that when he saw his mother hit Fu Yuanzhi on the head, he should have gone up to make up for it instead of letting him fend for himself in the trap, which caused things to completely deviate from his expectation.

Resentment is resentment that he does not care about family affection. The death of his parents and the death of his sister are all directly related to him!
From then on, he was alone.

Not only did he lose his official position, he also went to the suburbs of Beijing to work as an ordinary farmer, plowing in spring and harvesting in autumn, and his life was impoverished ever since.

He can't go back to Darongshu Village yet, so there is really no hope at all.

He also complained about God's injustice.

Why are the Song siblings around Fu Yuanzhi?Why!
Why are they both walking the same path, but their career paths are at two extremes?

He couldn't express his pain in words.

"Why? Don't you know?" Fu Xuelin endured the pain, his voice was filled with uncontrollable wheezing due to physical pain.

"Are you very proud now? Are you very happy?"

Fu Yuanzhi looked at him indifferently, and Fu Xuelin always felt that he could see through him when he looked at him.

Fu Xuelin said sternly: "If it hadn't been for the mistake just now, if I were given a chance to do it again, I would definitely make you pay with your life."

Fu Yuanzhi put the dagger close to the left side of Fu Xuelin's face. Fu Yuanzhi's blood slowly flowed from the dagger to his face, with a sticky and disgusting smell.

Fu Xuelin said coldly: "Why, do you still want to kill your cousin who has blood with you now?"

Fu Yuanzhi didn't speak, but his actions told Fu Xuelin.The chilling dagger slid from his cheek to the main artery in his neck.

At this moment, Fu Xuelin felt that his heartbeat was beating like a drum all over his body.

Fu Xuelin closed his eyes.

"Go ahead."

Fu Yuanzhi raised his hand, and just as the blade in his hand was about to fall, a female voice that seemed to be able to tear through the night came from far and near. The voice contained panic and a plea for hope in despair.

The dagger blade barely touched Fu Xuelin's skin.

The moment Fu Xuelin felt the dagger approaching, his blood stopped flowing and he became stiff and unable to move.

Fu Xuelin was hugged by soft and warm hands before he recovered.

"My lord, my lord, you can't leave us, you can't..." Fan choked up and said with tears streaming down her face.

Mrs. Fan attached Fu Xuelin's hand to her belly, "Here, I have it. My husband, please promise me not to continue, okay..."

A glimmer of light flashed in Fu Xuelin's eyes, and then disappeared in the darkness.

late.

Fu Yuanzhi will not let him go.

Of course Fan knew it too. She knelt on her knees and kowtowed three times to Fu Yuanzhi.

"Tang, no, Master Fu, my husband is your blood relative after all. Please let him go!"

After Fan finished kowtowing and saw that Fu Yuanzhi didn't respond, he immediately said, "Master Fu, judging from your actions tonight, I think my father's plan will not work."

Mrs. Fan held Fu Xuelin's hand tightly, holding back her sobs, and continued to speak: "My husband... My husband has been depressed since a few years ago. He is quite depressed and worried, and he only laments the potential for injury."

"I know it was a very bad act for my husband to stab you tonight, but I know that he didn't really want your life."

There was a trace of fluctuation in Fu Yuanzhi's eyes.

Mrs. Fan seized this slight fluctuation and quickly continued: "As you know, we work in the countryside. I was born... and there was always no shortage of servants around me. Once I became a commoner, I relied on farming to support myself. On weekdays, Here, not only can I help my husband, but I can control him and not cause him any trouble."

"So the whole house, inside and outside, including growing wheat, green vegetables, pickles, etc., is all taken care of by my husband."

"Don't think I'm verbose. It's precisely because he's been doing this for the past few years. My husband is no longer the scholar who couldn't carry it on his shoulders or lift it with his hands. He's very strong. If he really wants your life, this dagger It won’t just pierce the palm of your hand.”

There was so much foreshadowing, but the last sentence was what she really wanted to say.

"My husband has been overly grieved in the past few years, and now that things have reached this point, he has already planned to seek death."

"Perhaps, this idea occurred earlier, since I learned that you came to Beijing."

How could Fu Xuelin hide this from Fan?

He is Fan's world, and every move he makes can be magnified in Fan's eyes.

His calculations and dignity were all told to the person he least wanted to let know by his wife tonight.

He now felt as if his wife had stripped off his clothes one by one and showed them to the enemy. The feeling of wanting to die immediately made him miserable.

And he couldn't blame her, she was trying to survive.

She knows herself, but he doesn't know her.

For a wife who had been careful to protect her face even when she was struggling to survive in the village, at this point she could only be forced to put everything aside and give up.

Just because he felt her urgency, he could only bear all this silently, even if he lost his face, his arrogance as a scholar, and his dignity as a man.

Alas, I want to type a lot of words, but suddenly I feel like I have nowhere to start...

Nowadays, I believe more and more that a person's destiny is never decided by himself.