Chapter 32: foreign aggression

The four seasons of the northern continent are very clear. After a long and hot summer and early autumn, the leaves of the tree will begin to fall, and late autumn will come quietly.
These days are not good. It is about to enter the cold winter. The cool air below the ground slowly floats to the ground. The air starts to dry, sometimes the sun is shining, and sometimes the autumn wind is bleak.
On the mountain, at this time of the year, Chang'an will reduce his activities. He changes seasons in autumn and winter. Even if he sits quietly there is nothing moving, his chest will become stuffy. If he catches the rainy weather, it will be more difficult to breathe. I can't always it in my chest, I flutter around my throat lightly, and I will drift away by myself, always feeling panic.
Huayi stood in front of the tree of Solaimu, raised his head silently, and lowered his head silently, bent over and picked up a leaf scraped by the sharp tool to leave only the veins, and his eyelids yanked suddenly. Finally helpless.
I saw that the leaves on the ground had been gathered up, and a root incense was still inserted on it. It was probably that Solem was hanging this extremely old tree god, who was extremely bald this year.
Originally said that the shadow of other tribe messengers to be visited today did not see one. Huayi sent a few people to check along the way to prevent any change. Then he was stunned to come here. He expected to wait here until Chang'an. Let's talk to that little cub, let him practice his knife and change his place, don't hold a soft persimmon.
But he waited for a long time, and Chang'an didn't come.
For Chang'an, it seems that in addition to eating, sleeping, and practicing knives are the first important things, everything else is optional. These days, living in the Jushan tribe, the practice of knives can be described as wind and rain, and Huayi does not know what it is. The gadget stumbled his footsteps, so he decided to take a personal look at the rare event.
There was a scent of licorice floating in the Chang'an house, he never closed the door, so Huayi lifted his account and went straight in.
The little slave was not there, and Chang'an was sitting in front of a delicate small stove. It was Huayi that it was getting cold, and he got a small stove here. A small stove is a good thing. It can be held in a quilt. It is burned with special charcoal. It can be covered even if it is covered by the quilt. It is not smoky. Smell it carefully. There is a scent. It can be burned for two days. Both nights are not gone, unlike the stove pit in the house, if you go off, you have to get up at midnight and re-order.
These things are peddled by the wandering traders, the asking price is very high, and the charcoal fire inside is very precious.
When Huayi entered the room, he watched this rare and precious stove, and now he was put on the table by Chang'an, an unlucky child who could not tell the difference, and cooked soup.
When Chang'an saw him in, he didn't even raise his head, and still very carefully cut a washed taro fruit. The skin of the taro egg has been carefully scraped off. Chang'an uses a small blade that is not too long for the index finger to shave the flesh of the taro egg. Each knife cuts a uniform piece, as thin as a cicada. His actions No slow, the taro eggs fell from his hand seam one by one, and soon they were full of plates.
Huayi could not help but reach for a pinch, but the slice was too thin, and before he picked it up, he was accidentally crushed in the middle.
He couldn't help but ask, "Is this for food?"
Chang'an nodded.
Everyone eats taro eggs and peels them, throws them into the stove pit, fiddles with a fire stick a few times, and sprinkles them with coarse salt, then they can be eaten directly. Huayi has never heard of this way of eating, blurt out: "You Are you full? "
"I practice my hands. By the way, I keep eating and save waste."
At the end of Chang'an, his hands were so hard to read that he had cut a round taro fruit. He picked up the second one, and the taro fruit that was as thin as snow flakes went on in his hands. fall.
I do n’t know which extravagant man taught him the sword technique, and there are all kinds of practice methods for hunting strange things. Huayi set his eyes on the small stove that made his back molars hurt, pointing to the top and cooking A bowl of green, green, yellow and yellow soup, asked, "What the is this? Insecticide?"
"Herbs," Chang'an said, "I drink."
Huayi was startled when he heard the words. He turned his head and pinched Chang'an's chin. He looked closely at his face, but Chang'an's face seemed like a day for decades. Similarly, as time goes by, no difference can be seen. He asked a little worriedly, "What are you sick of?"
Chang'an's eyes were forced to shift, but the small knife seemed to be alive, passing between his fingers, the back of the knife rolled over his index and middle fingers, and fell between the most inflexible four fingers and the little finger. The taro fruit turned around in his palm, and in the blink of an eye, it was shaved off a full three layers of skin, in one go, let alone a breakpoint, or a turning point and stagnation.
Chang'an then slammed his head, threw down Huayi's hand, and rolled the fragile taro egg strip into a plate with a knife, saying, "My master said it was born. of."
The diseases brought by the mother's womb were all serious problems, and they could not be cured. Huayi was startled and asked, "What are the symptoms?"
He wanted to suggest Chang'an to go to Aye to take a look. Who knew that Chang'an aimed at the herbs seemed to be almost cooked, then he took it up and drank it. After drinking, he wiped the green on his mouth and smashed it. After twitching your mouth, frowning and complaining to the stove giver: "There are no symptoms-you don't use this broken thing. It has been cooked for an entire afternoon and it is not cooked. It is still cold inside."
Not cooked ... The herbal mochi and the cold water were half-baked by him, so Huayi looked at him for nothing for a while and knew that this guy didn't fart.
"Because‘ that thing ’is a quilt, it ’s not for you to make grass residue soup.
Huayi said quietly,
You are a special bun that spoils good things.

However, the bun bun Chang'an was different from him. He used a stick with a long pole to pinch a piece of charcoal fire from the small stove, blowing up two breaths, and blowing out a small flame, the fragrance was richer, Chang'an pinched his nose and turned his head to sneeze. Then he dug out a pile of oil from the side, and wrapped this piece of "delicate charcoal fire" roughly. When the delicate flame met the oil, he immediately became big and rounded. Get up, melt the solid oil into hot oil drops, and land on the thinly sliced ​​taro fruit. They are immediately scalded and curled up, giving off a subtle fragrance.
But Chang'an quickly lost his patience, and he let go of the entire charcoal fire on the plate with a loose hand. "Boom" sparked a cluster of sparks. After a while, the oil was burned out, and the fire finally went out. Clip the dying noble little charcoal fire, shook it around the table, wiped it twice, and threw it back to the futile stove.
On the plate, there were leftovers grilled and roasted, and the scorched and rolled taro fruit-really opened Huayi's eyes.
Changan politely pushed the plate forward and asked Huayi, "Do you eat?"
Huayi looked at this pile of dark, horrible things, and shook his head indifferently, refusing his kindness.
Chang'an didn't wait for him to shake this head, so he was afraid he would change his mind. He dragged the plate back and ate it directly with his hands. He ate quickly, and a layer of black ash quickly floated around his mouth, as if I have a mustache and it's kind of fun.
Huayi's heart was then put down-he had seen Luo Tong's son before, remembering the appearance of the little guy before, that was the sickness in the real mother's womb, like a little paper man, who could not hold or touch anything. , Others can not speak loudly beside him, otherwise the wind will blow him out.
How similar is this animal look?
Huayi's told him that he couldn't stand it. Chang'an made himself into this respect, so he stretched out his hands, but he gently wiped the ash on Chang'an's face with a rude movement, and thought sadly: " He was blinded by a beautiful skin. "
Just then, the three of them suddenly rushed in from the outside together and said, "The person sent out is back, is it ..."
The speaker was Solaim, and when he broke in at first, he bumped into Huayi's hand holding Chang'an's face and rubbed his thumb on it, as if someone had broken his neck and said, "Ouch" , The eyebrows turned their eyes, raised their feet and went out, haha ​​said: "It's okay, nothing big, not busy, hahaha, not busy, I'm not bothering, let's go-you two are not yet Let's roll together and poke here? "
Two people behind him, one is Lu Quan who speaks the same as stunning thunder, and the other is a thin man-with one arm □ outside, he is actually an orc with a beastprint, but the orc grows into such a pair The bamboo-like swaying wind is also very magical. Obviously, it is Lu Quan's brother.
Huayi seemed to realize that his action didn't look so ridiculous, so he retracted his hand as if he was okay, sitting in a serious position, and wanting to openly curse Solimu: "You get me back! Rubbing your face can also make you think of a lot of things. Why do n’t you have a demon who has more gods than broken tree leaves to purify your dirty soul? "
Solemy smiled and smiled, refusing to refute, the whole person flickered with insignificant halo.
Huayi asked, "What do the returning people say?"
"There was an accident over the mountain pass." Solem was short and straightforward, only listening to him, "There was a small earthquake a few days ago, and we didn't feel anything here, and there shouldn't be any problems there, but Who knows just such a small sway, called a landslide, the water on the mountain rolled down a large stone, several tribes were hit, and other uneasy was too late to move, planning to move, no time to mess with We are in trouble. "
Tribal migration is a big thing. On a forest-covered continent, how easy is it to find a place to take root? Ca n’t live in bad places, and fertile soil has many eyes staring, waiting to grab, how can there be such a trivial trivial disaster?
Huayi turned straight and asked, "What's going on?"
Shanxi interjected and said slowly: "I heard that the elder of the White Wing Tribe would look at the sky. He saw the sight of countless stars falling, and came to the conclusion that this plain is about to be enveloped by calamity. Live again. "
Huayi shouted: "Non-sense, the twelve days of the gods are dead, so where else can the stars in the sky control the things on the ground? You speak to me."
Shanxi didn't think hesitant, and continued to say slowly: "In addition, the elder will listen to the sound of the earth. He said that there are hordes of things, at least as many as tens of thousands, and he is running towards the mountain pass. You can reach the White Wing Tribe in less than ten days and a half months. That kind of movement is by no means a small thing, and the visitors are not good. I am afraid that you can step on the entire White Wing Tribe under your feet. "