Mysteries of the Great Zhou Dynasty

Chapter 142 Love Token
Rong Wanyin looked closely and saw that it was an exquisitely crafted crossbow with a sleeve.

The sleeve crossbow, as the name suggests, can be hidden in a sleeve. A book says: "It is shaped like a crossbow, and is filled with more than ten small iron balls. When used, the trigger is opened, and the balls are fired in a row. It is very fierce."

Yan Mingzhang said with some guilt, "I don't know martial arts and can't protect you. With this, if anything happens in the future, it might be able to help you escape a disaster."

Rong Wanyin felt a warmth in her heart. So he still cared about the wolf pack incident: "It's not your fault for encountering the wolf pack. I don't need anyone to protect me. I can protect myself. If I got injured, it's because I'm not skilled enough. You can keep this crossbow for self-defense."

Rong Wanyin shoved the crossbow back into Yan Mingzhang's hand, feeling somewhat annoyed at her overreaction. How embarrassing! It turned out he just wanted to give her a crossbow, and she had misunderstood.

Rong Wanyin picked up a small pastry and stuffed it into her mouth to cover her embarrassment. Before she could finish swallowing, Yan Mingzhang said calmly, "I also have one exactly the same. It's our token of love."

After Yan Mingzhang finished speaking, his face remained normal, but his ears turned bright red, yet he still pretended to be unaffected.

Rong Wanyin was startled and choked on her pastry. Why was Yan Mingzhang acting so differently after drinking? What nonsense was he spouting?

Yan Mingzhang handed her his own cup, which Rong Wanyin tilted her head back and drank in one gulp, but choked and coughed, painfully squeezing out a few words through her teeth: "This is wine!"

Yan Mingzhang hurriedly poured water for Rong Wanyin, who drank several cups before finally catching her breath: "What are you talking about? I'll just pretend you're drunk and talking nonsense... I'll just pretend I didn't hear you!"

Yan Mingzhang's face was flushed and he looked embarrassed. He was about to speak when Rong Wanyin interrupted him.

Rong Wanyin was like a cat with its fur standing on end: "If you keep talking nonsense, don't blame me for not showing brotherly affection! I treat you like a brother, you..."

"Pretend I didn't say anything, but you must keep this for self-defense, otherwise I won't feel at ease." Yan Mingzhang firmly stuffed the crossbow into Rong Wanyin's hand.

Rong Wanyin snatched the crossbow from her sleeve, not forgetting to give Yan Mingzhang a disapproving look before leaving.

Yan Mingzhang was embarrassed and slapped his own mouth in frustration, muttering to himself, "Drinking leads to trouble, what nonsense are you talking about!"

Over there, Rong Wanyin lay on the bed, her eyes closed as she recalled Yan Mingzhang's words from earlier that day. Her face burned with embarrassment, and she rolled around on the bed, clutching the blanket, crying out, "Ahhh... what was he saying?!"

------

The next day, Rong Wanyin and the others returned the copper bell to Aunt Yun Zhao.

Throughout the journey, Yan Mingzhang seemed distracted, constantly rummaging through something.

Rong Wanyin asked in confusion, "What are you looking for?" Yan Mingzhang scratched his head, a little embarrassed, "I lost something, but it's okay, luckily there's still one left."

Yan Mingzhang handed another crossbow from his pocket to Rong Wanyin: "I made a crossbow from a sleeve. You can carry it with you for self-defense."

When Rong Wanyin saw the hidden crossbow he handed her, she was both angry and touched. She was angry that he had forgotten he had given it to her yesterday, and also forgotten what he had said. Yet, he only had one hidden crossbow left, and he still wanted to give it to Rong Wanyin, disregarding his own safety. His words yesterday had unsettled her, and she hadn't slept well last night, but now he acted as if nothing had happened—what kind of person was he!

Rong Wanyin angrily pushed him away: "Keep it for yourself! I don't want it!"

After Rong Wanyin finished speaking, she walked away, leaving Yan Mingzhang, who looked completely bewildered, asking the others, "What's wrong with her? Who upset her?"

Everyone pursed their lips, shook their heads, and followed him away.

Yan Mingzhang was completely baffled.

On the octagonal table in Aunt Yunzhao's room were two bowls of vegetarian noodles. When Aunt Yunzhao saw everyone arrive, she stood up with a smile and said kindly, "Little Stone, Er Ya, you've come!"

Xiao Mu handed over the wooden box and said, "Aunt Yun Zhao, my master told me to return this to you. He doesn't dare to come see you. He asked me to say sorry to you."

Xiao Mu briefly recounted what his master had instructed him to do.

Aunt Yun Zhao smiled as she took the wooden box from Xiao Mu's hands, gently opening it. When she saw the bronze bell, she paused, startled. Her shoulders trembled slightly, her nose flushed, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself. When she opened her eyes again, they were clear, the previous confusion gone. She seemed to remember something: "Thank you..."

Aunt Yun Zhao just sat there blankly, memories flooding her mind like a tide. Tears welled in her eyes as she gently stroked the two copper bells: "Brother Meng..."

She closed her eyes, two lines of tears sliding down her cheeks, but she forced a weak smile. She tried to speak, but couldn't utter a single word.

Aunt Yunzhao stroked the box and slowly said, "After he left, I initially thought I would be strong. Little did I know that the moment a loved one departs usually doesn't cause extreme sadness, but what truly makes you grieve is—the bowl of plain noodles on the table, its aroma wafting through the air; the poetry book he often read, now lying on the table, half-worn and disheveled by the breeze; the old clothes, quietly folded and faded from washing, lying on the bedside table; and the tinkling of the copper bell hanging by the window, carried by the wind. Because everything is imbued with his presence, constantly reminding you that he existed, but will never return."

Aunt Yun Zhao's throat was dry, and two clear tears streamed down her face: "He made this bookcase for me. He said that I brought back a lot of books, all of which were my most treasured possessions, and I didn't want them to get damp. He didn't know how to make them, and he ruined two of them. This is the third one."

Aunt Yun Zhao smiled faintly, as if she could still see him making the bookshelf with her eyes closed, clumsy yet earnest.

Aunt Yun Zhao took out several scrolls from the crudely made bookcase with its mortise and tenon joints and unfurled them one by one. Each scroll depicted the same man, either sitting or standing, but they all shared one characteristic—their faces were not painted!
Aunt Yun Zhao gently stroked the scroll: "Actually, the hardest part wasn't what happened afterward, but the gradual blurring of memories of the person. When one day you suddenly realize you can't remember even a small habit of his, you feel a deep sense of despair. I know I'm probably sick; I can't remember many things. Every day I would make a bowl of noodles and wait for someone, still remembering that I was waiting for someone. But who was it? He didn't come back even after the noodles had sown. What was he doing? Where did he go? Why didn't he come back? Later, I couldn't even remember his face. If even I forgot him, who else would remember him? He's really leaving me."

Everyone was moved by the scene, their eyes welling up with tears. They looked at each other speechlessly, unable to utter a single word of comfort. Aunt Yun Zhao didn't mention missing anyone, yet every word she spoke was filled with longing.