Article 829

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The inside of the skull was in chaos again.

In the blur, a phantom flashed in front of Xianjun's eyes. He saw himself and Xue Meng sitting in the red lotus waterside, cooking tea and wine, and clinking glasses under the moon.

...is this something that Master Mo has done?

"Brother." Xue Meng's eyes were hazy, he was buried in the arms of Ta Xianjun, and he was sobbing at the beginning, but in the end, Qi Ai, choked, and finally sighed, "Don't go... You don't leave me behind. …”

After a while, he seemed to think of something else, and he suddenly started shaking, his lips were blue and white: "Don't kill my father, don't fight them... I killed those people, don't hurt my parents. , come to me..." The big tears rolled down and wet the chest of Xianjun, "Don't...don't dig my brother's heart..."

In this upside-down choking, the hand that Ta Xianjun was going to kill finally slowly put down, he froze for a moment and wanted to push Xue Meng away. But Xue Meng held him so tightly, his hands and feet were thick with blood.

Gradually, the place closest to the heart was finally soaked in tears.

Stepping on Xianjun finally escaped and swept up the roof tile beam, lying low on the porch, looking at Xue Meng who was curled up in the snow and hugged his knees and cried bitterly.

Xue Meng in his memory has always been fierce, arrogant, and sharp and mean. But at this moment, the one who stayed in the snow and wind was a child who could no longer find his brother.

He watched Xue Meng cry in the same place for a long time. Later, Xue Meng got up and didn't know if he woke up or was tired from crying. He stood in the courtyard for a while, and finally held the wine jar and went to the plum blossoms of the courtyard. go anywhere. The young man walked aimlessly, in a trance, slowly going away—going away—

Treading Xianjun looked at the snow, the two lines of footprints that were twisted and twisted but never looked back, spread all the way to the depths of the wind and snow, until the back of Xue Meng was nowhere to be seen.

In the north wind, there was suddenly a stern song. It was a short song in Shuzhong that Xue Zhengyi had sung before his death. Now it is dripping out of Xue Meng's throat and echoing in the Kunlun Snow Palace.

"I worship the old man half as a ghost, but now I can enjoy each other in drunkenness." The sound was still young, and the tone was already vicissitudes. "Zongjiao hides under the cinnamon branches, and the temples are stained on the face of drinking."

The heavy snow dyed the youth's black hair.

The hoarse voice was mixed with the sound of wind and snow, and it was bleak.

"Dream of the sky is broken and everyone goes far..." Getting farther and farther, getting closer to infinity. Or maybe it wasn't Xue Meng who went far, but the young man finally burst into tears, and the words choked, "Abandoning my old body is full of tears."

Abandon my old body.

He is only twenty-two years old, but only in a drunken dream can he see his old friends again and laugh again. He was only in his prime, but only by drinking a jar of Dukang, could he see the kindness of the high hall and two or three old friends.

Xue Meng raised his head and seemed to want to hold back the tears in the corners of his eyes, but he didn't know if he had held back, the wind and snow had fascinated his eyes.

He closed his eyes, almost roaring the ground, screeching to stop Xingyun, as if he was inquiring with the sky, and making a wish with the ground.

"I would like to increase Yushou and Duke Zhou, let the king hold the wine, go and pay it back!"

The clouds gathered, and he smashed the wine jar in his hand.

With his hands open, Xue Meng fell straight into the snow. He didn't want to go any further. Where is the front? There is ice and snow everywhere, no familiar figures, no home.

Even the ink burning that I just dreamed of is fake, it is a mirror image, and it is fleeting.

Xue Meng was lying in the snow, and after a while, he raised his hand and covered his eyelids.

The blood-colored lips were slightly opened and closed, and hot tears slid down.

"Why did you all leave, just leave me alone."

Xue Meng suddenly choked and lost his tone.

"Why...why leave me alone..."

In fact, for two lifetimes, in the end, it was only him.

Treading Xianjun listened to the reverberation that was swallowed by the whistling wind, and looked at the place where Xue Meng was gone. He stood motionless on the ridge, and the wind swept his cloak hunting and fluttering. He raised his hand and touched his chest, not knowing what it was like.

I worship the old half as ghosts.

This is the case for Xue Meng, and is it not the case for Stepping Xianjun?

The Wushan Hall in the previous life was empty and empty, and in the end, only he was left alone, and there was no one left. He doesn't know where the incense burner used to be in his house, and he can't wear half-old clothes from his youth. Sometimes he blurts out a joke from his school days, but all around are respectful and tense faces. .

No one knew what he was talking about, no one understood him.

Those who understand him are either under the spring or at the end of the world.

Stepping Xianjun slowly came to Tianchi. It was not a good weather. In the distance, there was smog, and the snow seeds on the pool were rushing. He stood there calmly, like a heartless, ignorant wood and clay sculpture.

Let frost and snow cover him.

"Chu nightning..." Gently sighed, "If it was back then..."

What if it was back then?

He didn't say any more, his eyelashes folded, his eyes closed.

There has never been anything like back then, he was the Emperor Treading Immortal, an unparalleled honor in the cultivation world. He does not know what is regret, what is turning back.

Whatever happened happened.

He has no regrets and no defeat.

Even if the flesh and blood are blurred, he will betray himself, this is the path he chose, and no matter how densely thorns are covered, he will bite the bullet and go on.

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