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Tea | words | feelings | small | said
Wang Kun opened his eyes and looked at the romance left on the rough sheets last night, which had dried up. The woman who was yesterday is no longer in the room. There is a man's robe at the head of the bed, embroidered with strange patterns. The material is very rough, neither cotton nor silk, as if it were woven by some plant. There are also some shorts and pants.
Wang Kun put on the clothes on the table and went to the hall to find breakfast on the table. It's yellow millet porridge and a bamboo tube. He picked up the bamboo tube, poured a sip and put it in his mouth. It's wine, very strong, with a faint fragrance of flowers, similar to some flowers in the yard.
After eating the food on the table, he found a pile of bamboo pieces on the table, engraved with words, and the font was very curved and difficult to recognize. Without losing beauty. Wang Kun took the bamboo slips and read slowly:
I know you're not Kun Wang. The butterfly birthmark on Kun's shoulder is on the left, while yours is on the right. Whoever you are, Yelang Kingdom needs you. Now King Yelang is building strange altars all day, conquering young heroes from various tribes, and Han Chinese in the north are constantly harassing him. The tribe complained bitterly, and Wang kept offering babies to the southwest Raya demon. I hope you can help the evil people in Yelang.
Wang Kun read all the bamboo slips. ...
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