The Law of the Silent Gentleman

As soon as Giuliano sat down in the tavern, a dazzling white lightning flashed outside the window. A few seconds later, there was a loud bursting sound in the sky, and heavy rain poured down immediately. Thunderstorms in summer and autumn in Lorjan always come unexpectedly. He came in by chance, just out of the rain. Enzo was not so lucky. He let Giuliano go first, and he waited for a while, and it was raining outside now.

The young apprentice picked a corner seat and ordered dinner for two and two glasses of sparkling wine. He took a sip from his own cup, and after a while, the chair opposite was pulled away, and the chair feet rubbed against the floor making a screeching sound.

"Wet through?" Giuliano asked with a smirk.

Enzo sat down and untied his rain-soaked cloak. Although he had a cloak to keep out the rain, he was drenched, his blond hair stuck to his cheeks and neck and still dripping. He brushed his hair back, twisted it, and then casually tossed it, letting strands of wet hair hang over his shoulders. The dim lights of the tavern cast a hazy halo on his blond hair. He picked up the wine glass in front of him, raised his head to drink it up, and his Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed. Giuliano looked away, pretending to observe the guests in the tavern, but his mind was full of Enzo. The assassin's drenched but indifferent look was extremely sexy. The first time they made out was in the water, and he would always remember Enzo's wet look at that time. Until now, whenever he sees the bathtub, he can't help but recall Enzo's hands around his waist and the strength of wedged into his body... In the sweltering heat of summer, Enzo likes a glass of iced sparkling wine the most after sex. All of this made Giuliano feel hot and his lower abdomen tighten like a spasm.

If this continues, they may need to find a tavern owner to open a room. Fortunately, at this time, a clear sound of plucking the strings came, which attracted Giuliano's attention, not only that, but also the attention of most of the guests in the tavern.

It is not uncommon for one or two musicians to perform in a tavern. The music and singing are often taken as the background for granted, and sometimes they are not even noticed. However, when the poet plucked the strings, the sound of close conversation, high-pitched laughter, and the clash of cups and plates in the tavern stopped instantly, and everyone turned their heads to look in the direction of the music.

A bard sat alone in a corner of the tavern, holding a lute in his arms, and was tuning the strings. Every time the strings are loosened, he plucks the strings. The poet has a youthful face, but has frosty white hair, presumably dyed, or born with it. He was wearing a white robe with a long swing, like some kind of old dress, which was not worn by ordinary people anyway. Probably artists always deliberately dress themselves up in order to attract attention. The fat owner of the tavern hastily placed a floor alchemy lamp next to the poet to illuminate his surroundings, then bowed his waist and quietly retreated, as if he was afraid that his rude behavior would disturb the poet's elegance.

The poet tuned the strings and tried playing a minor tune. There is no sound in the tavern, only the melodious and crisp string music, like gurgling water flowing over the rocks in the stream. The melody in a minor key changed and became a popular love song, telling the rough road of a young man in pursuit of his sweetheart. The poet sang and sang in harmony with the melody, and his singing sounded like flying over the heads of the crowd on the wings of a swan. His voice is rustling, but it has a special charm. When he sang, it seemed as if the thunder and lightning were dodged, and he did not hear a single thunder until the end of the song.

After the last line was sung, the poet held down the strings, stopped the ringing on the strings, and nodded slightly to the audience. Everyone just woke up like a dream. I don't know who was the first to applaud, and soon, there was thunderous applause in the tavern, and the cheers and applause even overshadowed the thunderstorm outside. Many people clamored to buy wine for the poet to soothe his throat. But the poet only needed a glass of water, dipped his lips, asked the waiter to bring it down, and started the second song. Its rhythm is far faster than the first one, and the melody is more passionate. Giuliano recognized it as a song about the adventures of Emperor Darien when he was young, and everyone is familiar with it.

The murmurs and clinking of cups in the tavern sounded again. The singing voice gradually turned into a pleasant background sound, which was no longer so attractive. The poet fades himself into the surrounding atmosphere. Of course, there are still a few people who still listen to poetry intently. Giuliano is one of them. But he is not so much appreciating poetry as he is "appreciating" poets with all his attention.

"Young Darion, born rough,

With lofty aspirations, I left my hometown and went out to make a living.

Embark on a journey, just to save the world,

One person with one sword dares to walk in all directions..."

Something under the table touched Giuliano's foot. He gasped, almost jumping up like a cat whose tail was stepped on. No one around noticed his strangeness. He withdrew his gaze from the poet and turned to his companion.

"What are you doing?!" He lowered his voice and asked angrily.

Enzo leaned on the table, resting his chin on one hand, and playing with the wine glass with the other. Under the table, he purposely rubbed Giuliano's leg, calling the young apprentice's attention in this ambiguous way. Giuliano's face felt hot, and redness spread from the base of his ears to his neck.

"Look at you, you're all fascinated." Enzo raised the corners of his mouth and half-closed his eyes, "Is that bard so good-looking?"

"...The road was not going well, and it happened to be snowing heavily,

A young hero, lost on the barren hills.

The long night is long, and the blood turns to ice,

Suddenly in the distance, a little bit of warm light lit up. "

"I'm not looking at the poet," Giuliano muttered, "I'm looking at his violin."

Enzo glanced at the poet: "What's so special about his piano?"

Giuliano approached the assassin and whispered: "Look carefully, there is a rose engraved on the body of the violin, which is the symbol of the famous violin maker Ignacio Antillion. Antillion lived in the early days of the Second Dynasty. There are very few of his works handed down, and the price is far beyond what an ordinary bard can afford."

"Oh? I don't know much about musical instruments. Are Antillion's violins so expensive?"

Giuliano raised his eyebrows triumphantly. Having known the Assassin for so long, I finally found one thing he could do better than Enzo. "A few years ago, Vanessa's auction house sold an Antillion's harp for 12,000 gold luces."

Enzo was silent. Eight hundred ruses can buy the life of a dignified viscount, and it is easy to estimate how much 12,000 ruses are worth.

"Perhaps the bard's zither is an imitation," Enzo said. Giuliano was surprised to see a hint of jealousy in his tone.

"It's also possible. If possible, I want to get closer and see for real..."

"...Snowy Night Tavern, gathering strange people,

Meeting by chance, what a wonderful fate!

There is no need to say more about the names of the people,

Listeners, you must have known—

Grado of Graywing City is full of resourcefulness;

Kessler of Frozen Harbor, brave and unparalleled;

Amandina, the Witch of the Lake, beautiful and deadly;

Olmeda, the sharp bow shooter, is known as the hundred-step piercer..."

The song reached its first climax: Darien, who left his hometown at a young age, got lost in the barren mountains due to heavy snow, and found a tavern by mistake. And that tavern has long gathered a group of travelers who escaped from the wind and snow—Grado, Kessler, Amandina, Olmeda... These people, led by an unknown force, met the future emperor in the snow Night Tavern has opened a magnificent history since then. Later, some of them became Darion's right-hand man, some died fighting for the world and their achievements, some chose to be enemies with the emperor, and some lived to the end of their lifespan, becoming the recorders of legends.

However, there is only one person that the poet did not sing about, and there is no such person in all the poetic biographies and books, because Emperor Darien forbade people to sing about her, but everyone knew her existence—the dragon **** Reshtani. Legend has it that she once transformed into a young woman and assisted Emperor Omaran to build an empire; later, she came to Darion and helped him make great achievements. Emperor Darion forbade mention of her. There are different opinions on the reasons: some people say that Dali'an wanted to monopolize the honor and favor of Rishthani, so he forbids others to contact the dragon god; Too sad to hear her name again. Hundreds of years later, the empire was destroyed, the ancient gods were revived, and the belief in the dragon **** was gradually abandoned, and no one knew the reason.

"There is another person, the protagonist in the song,

Young Darion, future Emperor,

Arrive at the tavern, open the door,

Only a loud noise was heard, and the hero finally appeared! "

-boom!

When the poet sang this sentence, the door of the tavern happened to be slammed open!

Everyone was dumbfounded by this sudden change, they all turned their heads and stared at the door dumbfounded. A man drenched in heavy rain strode into the tavern. He has brown hair and looks young, with a long sword around his waist, his hair and clothes are dripping, and he looks in a mess. The young man was obviously stunned by the sights from all directions, and he froze in place, at a loss.

Is this a performance arranged by the poet, or is it a mere coincidence?

After a long time, the young man muttered, "The people of Ponto City are so warm," and turned around to close the door. After a few more seconds, the poet's piano sounded again, and he began to sing the next paragraph. Only then did everyone understand that the young man's just-in-time intrusion was probably a wonderful coincidence. The tavern quickly returned to its original state, and the people talked and listened to songs, and the young people were soon forgotten.

He shook his wet hair, took off his dripping cloak, hung it on his arm, and looked around. The tavern was almost full, only two people sat at a table in the corner, and there was still room left. The young man grinned and walked towards the half-full table. He has a bright smile, which makes people happy to look at.

"Good evening, both of you," the young man stopped at Giuliano and Enzo's table. "Is anyone here? Would you mind joining us?"