Chapter 927

The star falling stele at the top of the patio lights up, and the gate to the Holy Land's Yuanliu mountain opens. Lu Zhengkang goes forward, but enters the bright sky through the corridor, and the wind and snow are also very deep.

This is the foothills. It seems that there is not so much snow in the last few times. It's so cold that the heat of the rune on Lu Zhengkang's chest dissipates, deprives, vanishes, and blows out. It's cold. Facing the strong wind, he almost gets a somersault. Lu Zhengkang bows and his red robe trembles. The light of the rune is not as bright as the reflection of the sky in the snow. There are white, cold, hard rocks and walls, scattered with the tombstones of the fallen stars, scattered with long stones Column, scattered scattered, scattered and buried by the wind and snow, the collapse of the ruins covered with a cold shame cloth, in addition to make people completely despair in its silence, it does not seem that people have nostalgia for history.

Lu Zhengkang is no stranger to such a scene. He has the right to regard himself as an ordinary person and face such extreme cold. Since he is an ordinary man, the power and power of the past are not worth boasting.

Strengthen the faith of pilgrimage. As many times as usual.

Anyway, when the wind and snow cover his body and his mind solidifies, nothing will be left except pilgrimage.

Climbing along the hillside, there were fallen stars in the snow. Their bodies, the red silk cloth, came out of the ground in clusters, frozen by the snow, like a frozen campfire.

Lu Zhengkang had just taken two steps, and mana with tassels on his back had burned out. He felt extremely cold and penetrated into his star soul. He tried to drill into the frozen silk, and the rune lit up the silk - it was just thawing. The light from the silk could only warm Lu Zhengkang's robe, just like a thin blanket that the sun slightly roasted after the winter clouds.

Cold is the form of death and forgetfulness: it is fate, it is ending. Lu Zhengkang doesn't want to end before the finish line.

He curled up in a pile of cloth for a while, and random memories came up.

There is no specific fragment, but there are some old friends' faces, which soon disappeared, just like the scattered scraps of paper on the trickle of the canal, some colorful pieces of paper on the broken stream of the water surface, the soft spring light in the canal, light and liquid, water vapor and Baiwei breath, wind and quiet voice. What Lu Zhengkang can not forget is some childish remains Fragments of meaning.

Why did he come here!

Lu Zhengkang has forgotten his purpose of coming. He still remembers that he has a destination in his heart. This is the only remaining will in the face of such a snowstorm that represents forgetting, just like his red robe gradually covered with frost. His past is frozen, and his runes are also vague. As Lu Zhengkang, he has only one idea to move forward, but what is the specific purpose, He has no idea. The journey is habitual. The star droppers set foot on the journey for different purposes. However, when they are close to the end, when they are tired physically and mentally, they have only one idea to move forward, only one idea to climb to the top, and only one idea to have a beginning and an end. At this time, the travelers are irrational. Reason is a paradox. In the journey, keeping reason is the most irrational .

Lu Zhengkang shakes up and sings: deer.

He wanted to use it to strengthen his self-awareness. It's freezing my brain Originally, the soul had no brain, but he could not forget his name.

Suddenly there is a light voice behind: Yue.

Lu Zhengkang was a little surprised and turned to look back. In front of the gate of holy water patio, a red robed companion trotted up the ramp. He kept ringing: Yue.

When his companion came near, he was covered with wind and snow. He kept singing and bathed Lu Zhengkang in the warm light, which made him feel relieved. If there is something to say, Lu Zhengkang will say: Yuanliu mountain is getting cold.

It's always cold, it used to be cold, but now it's getting colder and colder, and the snow is much thicker.

This is the rift valley between the two cliffs. The wind passes through here. It's very fast and fierce. Lu Zhengkang is like a piece of wet felt, which is frozen hard unconsciously. If he continues to indulge in the false warmth of red silk, he will die slowly.

Yuelai is just like a savior.

The light that the companions sing to each other dispels the cold here. They walk side by side and have never seen each other before, so they just meet and go together. All the new friends he met along the way gave Lu Zhengkang some comfort. It seems that there are still a lot of people who have fallen from the stars.

But he was a little worried that the companion he had met had made a mistake. Maybe not. Lu Zhengkang thought to himself, who had he met before? When he recalled in this way, it was a blank. His thoughts were like the snow on the ground, soft and rich, but shallow to some emptiness.

In front of the mountain gap blowing wind, Lu Zhengkang and Yue were blown somersault, they quickly hide behind the scattered steles, wait for the strong wind to stop, and then continue to move forward. The wind is blowing all the time. The difference is just strength. Walking against the wind is almost drifting, as if the body and soul have no weight, let the wind deprive him of his past.

Eh, did he actually have a past? Those so-called past are dreams, right? Is it different from a dream? The story of the universe in a grain of sand and a piece of snow is not as good as a dream? Do those who fall have dreams?

Yue kept singing.Lu Zhengkang is always absent-minded.

It's the gale again. Lu Zhengkang is caught off guard and rolls back. Yue comes running from behind the stone tablet in a hurry. He is also blown away by the wind.

The two red robes were like two lumps of tumbleweeds in the snow. Lu Zhengkang sang and tried to sit up. Yue was in front of him, white as a lump. He stood up and trembled, and cried two times, still full of vitality.

Yue is much firmer than Lu Zhengkang. His runes are warm and sun like.

Maybe it's really not on the table. Lu Zhengkang is a little bit gloomy. He completely forgets why he came here. He just wants to reach the top. Freeze to death and get to the top. As for what's on Yuanliu mountain, you can see it when you arrive.

They still sing to each other to heat each other. It's like beating a drum to pass flowers, echoing and making a sound with their heart. Even the mountains have no echo, only the sound they can hear.

Should be so resolute, should be so quiet, as long as remember their own name, to the edge of the flow of their own name, just like countless times heard from his population, let his empty soul remember a name. Let numbers be embedded in functions, let flesh and blood be embedded in bones, and let symbols be embedded in order. If there is no name or form, they are nothing different from sand and snow.

They walked slowly through the cracks in the front of the mountain and came to the closed Col. there were thick silk cloth everywhere and tombstones everywhere. Many travelers were buried here. The silk cloth looked like gravegrass, cool and witty. It was like the soul of the dead waving gently in the wind. Death will not live in peace, the body of the traveler will rot, the name will be forgotten, but there is something abstract left behind, always left behind.