Chapter 98： Master, please, please me

There is a peak in the life and death, and the name is quite funny, called "ah."

Regarding the origin of this name, there are many kinds of sayings in the martial art. The most common one is that because this peak is steep and steep, people often fall down accidentally, so they are named "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

But the ink burns knows not.

The peak is soaring into the clouds, and the mountains are covered with snow all the year round. It is extremely cold. If someone is dead, you will stop here and wait for the funeral.

I have only been here once in my life.

That time, it was not much different from the situation today. It was also after the infernal hell, a **** battle took away countless lives, and the teachers also lost their lives. He did not want to accept this reality, so he was kneeling on the side of the teacher and watching the face of the man in the hail. It was a lot of days...

"The reason why it is called ah, it is because that year, you went." Former life, Xue Zhengyi accompanied him, in the cold frosty temple, said to him.

"I only have one brother, the dead and the sorrow is created by the two of us together, but you are... he is like you, is a very self-willed person. Qing Fu enjoyed a few days, about tired, in one time and evil I lost my hand in the confrontation and left."

Frost Temple was too cold, Xue Zhengyi took a pot of shochu, and he smothered himself, and handed the sheepskin wine sac to the ink.

"Give you a drink, but don't tell your aunt."

The ink burned did not pick up and did not move.

Xue Zhengyi sighed: "This peak, ah, ah, because of that time, I am also very uncomfortable, my heart is like being dug out, the whole person is watching you in the mountains, thinking of sadness, I couldn't help but cry loudly. I cried hard, always ah, ah, so I have the name."

He glanced at the ink and patted the other's shoulder.

"Uncle has not read a few books, but I also know that life is like a dew, and there is no shadow in a blink of an eye. You should be a step ahead and be a brother again in your next life."

The ink burns slowly and closes your eyes.

Xue Zhengxuan said: "There is nothing in empty talks. If you want to be sad, you will cry. If you don't want to go, just stay with him here. But eat rice, drink water. Go to Mengpotang for something to eat." Come back. After that, you have to swear, I won’t stop you."

Frosty Temple is silent and silent, and the white room is gently floating in the cold room, like a gentle finger licking the forehead.

The ink burns slowly and opens your eyes.

It is still the kind of hail in memory, Kunlun Xuanxue casts into it, and it is crystal clear and sleek.

Just the person lying inside, changed to a late night.

Ink burned and said nothing, in this life, in this day, the dead will be Chu nightning.

He was too late to defend, and he couldn't even react.

In the face of this man's cold body, there is not much fluctuation, no joy of death of the enemy, no sorrow of the master.

The smoldering is almost a little doubtful. The mouth of the night is long and cold. The face of that person is cooler than usual. Now it is covered with a layer of frost. Even the tight eyelashes are condensed with ice, and the lips are The white, the skin is almost transparent, can see the light blue blood vessels, like the tiny cracks on the white porcelain.

How can someone who is walking be him?

The ink burned his hands and touched the cheeks of Chu’s late night. The tentacles were very cool.

All the way down, throat, neck, no pulsation.

Get it again.

He held his hand and the knuckles were already stiff, but the feeling was rough.

The burning of the ink is strange. Although Chu Xiaoning has a small flaw in his fingertips, his palm is always soft and delicate. He can't help but look at it. The glimpse is the broken and broken scar, although it has been wiped, but The wound will never heal again, and the flesh will still open.

He remembered Xue Meng said.

"He has lost his spiritual power and has nothing to do with mortals. He can't use his spells any more. He can't pass the sound. He can only carry you and step by step to climb the steps of life and death..."

Can not support, can not stand up, kneeling on the ground, squatting, dragging, until the fingers are worn, full of blood.

Also take him home.

The ink snorted: "Is you carrying me back?"

"..."

"Chu Ning, is that you..."

"..."

"If you don't nod yourself, I won't believe it." The ink burned to the people in the scorpion and said that the face was calm, as if the person in front of him would wake up. "Chu Ning, you nod. Nod. I will believe you, I don't hate you... you nod your head, okay."

But Chu Ning still lie like that, his expression is faint, his eyebrows are cold, it seems that he does not hate him, he does not care, he asks for a clear conscience, leaving others uneasy in the world.

This person, living or dying, is annoying, far better than teaching people to hurt.

The ink sneered and laughed: "Yes." He said, "When did you hear me?"

He looked at Chu Ningning and suddenly felt ridiculous.

For a long time, he was hated because he was not able to marry him at the end of the night, because Chu Yuning had not saved his teacher and hated it.

Going around, this kind of hate has lasted for more than ten years, but one day, someone told him that

"Chu Ningning turned and left at the time, I don't want to drag you down."

Someone told him that -

"Viewing enchantment is twin, you have suffered multiple injuries, and he is the same."

He is exhausted, he can't help himself, he...

Ok, it’s really great. Chu nightning is right, then what about him?

In the dark, like a fool, I don’t know anything. I’m like a harlequin. I’m being smacked and screaming for a long time.

What kind of? !

Misunderstanding this kind of thing, if it is short-lived, it is like a stain on the wound when it is healed. It is better to find it in time, wash it off and re-apply the plaster.

However, if it is a misunderstanding, and continued for ten or twenty years, the people trapped in the net have invested a long hate in this misunderstanding, devoted a long time to care, and invested a long embarrassment, even a fate.

These emotions have been crusted, and they have grown into new flesh and skin, and they are completely combined with the body.

Suddenly someone said: "Not like this, everything is wrong."

What should I do then? The dirt of the year has been growing under the skin and growing into the blood.

That is to tear off the intact flesh to release the suspicion.

A misunderstanding of one year is a misunderstanding.

The misunderstanding of ten years is embarrassing.

From birth to death, misunderstanding for a lifetime, that is life.

They are thin in their lives.

The heavy stone door of the Frost Heaven Hall slowly opened.

Like the past life, Xue Zhengyi carried a sheepskin wine bag full of shochu, and walked heavily to the side of the ink, sitting on the ground and shouldering with him.

"Listen to people saying that you are here, uncle to accompany you."

Xue Zhengyi, a pair of leopards, was also red, showing that he had just cried a while ago.

"Come to accompany him."

When the ink burned, he did not speak. Xue Zhengyi unscrewed the jug and sipped a few mouthfuls. Then he slammed down and smeared his face. He made a strong laugh: "I used to drink, Yuheng saw it. I’m always upset, now... oh, stop, don’t say, don’t say it. My age is not big, but the old people who sent them are one by one. Burning, do you know what it feels like?”

"..."

The ink burned down the curtain.

In the past life, Xue Zhengyi also asked him this question.

At that time, he only had the flesh and blood of his teacher, and what was the life and death of other people? He doesn't understand and doesn't want to understand.

But now, how can he not understand?

Before the rebirth, the only Wushan Temple was left alone.

One day, he woke up from the shallow sorrow, dreamed of the situation under the old Yuwen door. When he woke up, he intended to return to his own bedroom and look at it. He could push the door in. The narrow disciple room was deserted for a long time. Dust.

He saw a small smoker knocking over the ground, but he didn't know who overturned it and when it was overturned. He picked up the smoker and subconsciously wanted to put it back in its original position.

But the years were in a hurry, he held the small stove and suddenly caught it.

"This stove, where was it originally placed?"

He doesn't remember.

The eagle-like gaze passed over the fans behind him, but those people had a vague face, and he couldn't even tell who was called Zhang San.

And they naturally don't know where the incense burner of the emperor was in the room.

"This stove, where was it originally placed?"

He does not remember, but those who can remember such past events are dead and scattered.

How can you not understand the feelings of Xue Zhengyi at this time?

“Sometimes I suddenly think of a joke when I was young, and I didn’t consciously say that I’m exporting, but I’ve found that people who can understand this joke are gone.”

Xue Zhengyi took another drink and smiled.

"You see, those old robes... you are respected..."

He shattered and asked, "Well, do you know why this peak is called?"

Ink burns what he wants to say, but he is upset now, and he is not willing to listen to Xue Zhengyi talking about his father, so he said: "Know. Uncle is crying here."

"Ah..." Xue Zhengyi squinted, slowly blinking, and the tail tip was deep, "Is your aunt telling you?"

"Ok."

Xue Zhengxi wiped his tears and took a deep breath: "Good, good, then you know, the uncle wants to tell you that if you are uncomfortable, you will cry, it doesn't matter. The man has tears for the bullet, not shameful."

The ink burns but never sheds tears. Perhaps it is because the two worlds have passed, and the heart is as hard as iron. Compared with the heartbreaking of the teacher, the present is so calm. Calm until he even felt horrified for his numbness. He didn't know that he was so cool.

After drinking the wine, sitting for a while, Xue Zhengqi got up, I don’t know because it’s been a little numb for a long time, or it’s a little bit too much.

His wide hand was shot on the shoulder of the ink: "The sky cracks it, but the people behind the scenes are still not coming out. Maybe this is the case, and maybe there will be a second battle soon. Burning, almost go down the mountain to eat something, don't be hungry."

He said, turned and went.

At this time, it was at night, and there was a round of remnant moons outside the frosty day. Xue Zhengyi stepped on the snow that was not going to be used all the year round. He took half a pot of turbid wine, and the rough and squeaky sounds began to sing. A short song.

"I worship the deceased half-ghost, but now I can get a lot of fun in the drunk. The total angle is hidden under the laurel tree, and the smoldering of the drinking surface has been spotted. The skylight dreams are broken and the people are far away, and I am abandoning my old body." With Zhou Gong, let the king hold the wine and go back."

In the end, it is not the same as the previous life. It is not the teacher who died, but the night of the night, so Xue Zhengyi will have more emotions.

The ink burned back against the door opened by the frosty temple, listening to the hoarse throat and screaming, the man was awkward, but the road was desolate. The sound of the song is like a eagle, and it is gradually swallowed up by the wind and snow.

The heavens and the earth are stunned, the moon is high, and everything is washed away very lightly and lightly, leaving only one sentence to reciprocate.

"Abandoning my old body, tears and tears... abandoning my old body and tears..."

I don't know how long it took, and the ink burned slowly down the frosty temple.

The uncle said yes, although the sky cracks, but things may not stop. Chu Xiaoning is no longer there. If there is another battle, he will resist himself.

When I came to Mengpotang, it was already late, except for the old man who cooked the night, no one.

The ink burned a bowl of noodles and found a place to eat slowly by the corner. The surface is spicy, and it is very warm to eat into the stomach. He is looking up and swaying, and in the hot air, Meng Potang is dimly lit and the image is blurred.

I remembered that after the death of the teacher of the previous generation, he was far more self-willed, and he refused to leave for three days and three nights, nor did he eat.

Later, I was finally persuaded to leave the Frost Heaven Hall and go to eat something, but I saw a busy back in the kitchen. The man's hands and feet were awkwardly licking the dough, and the stuffing, the case was covered with flour and water, and there were a few rows of hand-picked hands.

"Dangdang."

The things on the case were swept down, and the tyrannical voice passed through the dust. It is difficult to cast the current ink burning, and the food can not be swallowed.

At that time, he felt that Chu was rather mocking him, and he was not willing to sting him.

But at the moment, I want to come. Maybe Chu Jingning was really just thinking about the dying teacher, and then cooking a bowl for him.

"What are you doing? Are you also equipped with what he has used? Is it also a dish he has done? The teacher is dead, are you satisfied? Do you have to kill all your apprentices, you are only Willingness? Chu nightning! No one in the world can make that bowl of hand-written, you can imitate, and can't seem to be him!"

Word cone heart.

He did not want to think again, he ate his face.

But how can he win him? Memories will not light him.

He recalled Chu's face more clearly than ever, without joy or sadness. He recalled every detail more clearly than ever before.

I remembered a slight tremor on the tip of my finger, a little bit of flour on the cheek.

I remembered that the full-bodied hand was rolled over the floor.

I remembered that Chu Ning dropped his eyes, leaned over and slowly picked up the food that could no longer be eaten, and then dumped it by hand.

Drop it by yourself.

There are still half of the bowls left in the groats.

The ink burned and could no longer be eaten. He pushed the noodle bowl away and fled away from the place that would drive him crazy. He rushed to the road of death and death, like to leave behind the misunderstanding of more than ten years, like to recover this ridiculous rolling years, catch up with the man who left Meng Potang alone.

Catch up with him and say a word.

"Sorry, I hate you wrong."

The ink burned in the darkness without any order, running... but there is a broken figure of Chu nightning. Good and evil, teach him literacy, practice swords. Naihe Bridge, with him umbrella, peer. Qingtian Temple, who is responsible for the rod, is far away.

He became more and more embarrassed at night and became more and more helpless.

Suddenly, I ran to a cheerful place, and suddenly I saw the clouds smog and the moon was high.

The ink burned and stopped.

Tower of Babel……

The place where he died in the past, the place where he met with Chu Jingning for the first time.

His heart was like a drum, and his eyes were chaotic. He was chased by the tides of the past, and he couldn’t do it. He finally forced it here.

The white wind was clear and the time was met with Jun.

The ink burned no longer ran. He knew that he could never escape from birth. In his life, he was destined to owe Chu Ningning.

He slowly walked up the steps and walked under the swaying sea bracts. Reaching out, stroking the dry tree, the hard state is like a heart.

At this time, it was nearly three days away from the death of Chu.

The ink burns up and suddenly sees the flower trees gentle and vague. It was not until this time that there was an endless sorrow. He put his forehead on the trunk and finally burst into tears and tears.

"Master, Master..." He whimpered and whispered in his mouth. It was the first time when he saw Chu Ning, "You reasoned me, okay... you reasoned me..."

But things are human beings. Before the tower, only one person left, no one cares about him, no one will come.

Although the ink burning after the rebirth is a young figure, the shell is carrying the soul of the 32-year-old stepping fairy. He has seen too many lives and deaths, tasted the sweet and sour in the world, since the resurrection, he The joys, sorrows and sorrows in my heart are not so vivid and vivid, always like a layer of false covering.

But at this moment, his face suddenly showed such confusion and pain, red/naked, tender, pure, and green.

Only at this moment, he really looks like an ordinary boy who has lost his master, like a child who has been abandoned, like a lonely dog ​​who has lost his home and can no longer return.

He said, you reason about me.

You reason about me...

However, in response to his, after all, only the mother-in-law leaves, lush flowers and shadows.

The man who had a good eyebrow under the sea otter did not, and could not raise his head again, to see him, even the last glance.

The author has something to say:

The white cat of the murderer: Thank you, "Zhou Fang Li" for throwing grenades, "Yu Yong", "I will send lovesickness to the moon", "I want to name the real trouble", "Flesh fan soup", "Frost one sword", "Jiayan", "Jailbreak rabbit" "Xingning Xiaogongju" "Winter Song" throwing mines~

Two dogs: "QAQ"

When the two dog programs continued to collapse, the white cat glanced at him and sighed and took the manuscript in his hand.