I Just Want To Farm

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Fang Yourong took care of things and arranged the residences of Chuci and other guests. It was already midnight, and when she was passing Cangshan, she flew down, and it was more like she came here specially.

She pressed the sword light down on the cliff peak at a corner of the pavilion, and stood beside Qin Yu, who was sitting cross-legged on the cliff with a cat in his arms, blowing the snow wind to the moon.

"I thought I'd see empty wine bottles lying around."

Fang Yourong's words made Qin Yu turn his head. The wind was a bit cool, blowing his hair, and the hair brushed against the corners of this little junior sister's eyes, adding a sense of flowing tranquility to the eyes that were quenched by the sun and the moon.

Like the water gurgling through the old stream in the deep mountains.

"Is the senior sister disappointed?"

"Well, something is better than nothing."

People who don't even want to drink alcohol have unresolved suffering in their hearts.

Qin Yu knew what Fang Yourong was thinking, so he took advantage of the situation and sighed long, hugged Pangjiao, who was dozing heavily in his arms, played with his fluff with his fingers, and said softly, "When I went back in time and space, I looked for both of them."

Fang Yourong remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"Senior Zhou, he didn't look back, and said that he wanted to finish the business of the sect quickly and quickly."

"Senior sister, do you know what he's up to? This bad old man, even if he doesn't tell me, he still despises me for being long-winded."

Fang Yourong stuck the sword in the snow, folded his arms around his chest, and stood at one end whistling against the wind, but his voice was very steady and long.

"The mistakes he made in his life are probably only related to two people, one is his younger brother, and the other is his wife."

Qin Yu: "It doesn't sound like it's his fault, at least Chen Hu isn't."

Fang Yourong: "Actually, neither of them."

Qin Yu's mind is so sharp, the nine turns of honeycomb coal have a twisted heart, and he immediately said, "Ah, his wife is also a demon cultivator?"

Fang Yourong's silence was an admission.

Qin Yu pursed his mouth, and it took him a long time to spit out: "This old man has a bad luck."

Old man, old man, Zhou Xuanqing is her master after all, so Fang Yourong gave Qin Yu an annoyed look, and told some stories about Zhou Xuanqing.

Fang Yourong is not a person who is good at expressing emotions, nor is she good at literary rhetoric like Chu Ci. Her literary accomplishments are basically accumulated in many years of handling official affairs, and her words are naturally concise, so the old things she described to Qin Yu about Zhou Xuanqing are very It's simple, but Qin Yu is a thoughtful person with delicate emotions. It seems that through this simple story, his eyes drifted away and fell outside the gate of Wuque Mountain.

At that time, there were green mountains and green waters, and the mountains were far away. A handsome young man of half age was slowly climbing the steps on the mountain road. With his arms behind him, he dragged a boy who was several years younger. The boy was sick and thin. Unbearable, lying on the young man's back and breathing weakly, his head was so weak that he lay on the young man's shoulders, probably because of a ray of mountain wind, he opened his eyes and saw the unrivaled and beautiful mountain scenery, his eyes were a little more elegant, but There is also some fear and anxiety.

"Brother Zhou, let me down."

"It's okay, you don't feel well, just sleep for a while."

"But..."

The boy was still tired after all, he didn’t say anything when he saw that it didn’t move people, he just observed his surroundings, such a good place was very different from the poverty in his hometown before, but the boy was very restless and always felt that it was not real, so he When I was most sleepy, I murmured, "Brother, will we separate?"

He thought he'd get an answer soon, but no, and didn't seem to go either, as the scenery fixed.

The boy struggled to open his eyelids, raised his head, and saw the top of the steps. ． ． As far as he could see, the mountain mist was filled with the astringent, light and bitter fragrance of the forest trees. He vaguely saw a girl holding a lamp to drive away the mountain mist. The light looked soft and moving in the daytime.

Just can't see the shadow.

But can hear the sound.

"Zhou Xuanqing, is Chen Hu right? Can you still leave?"

As she said this, she was like a lively little green bird, happily walking down the stairs with a lamp and approaching them.

The fog is getting thinner.

But he felt his brother's breath getting farther and farther away.

Chen Hu lowered his head, and at that moment, he suddenly wanted to cry.

———————

"Sometimes, the depravity of people's hearts in this world is not because of not getting it, but because of something slowly missing."

If you can't get it, you will be dissatisfied.

Lack of it makes people fearful and resentful.

So he became a demon, killed another demon, fulfilled the resentment and jealousy in his heart, thinking that this could make up for the lack.

But can't.

Never can.

"The things you said... I didn't understand old man Zhou before, but now I do."

Fang Yourong nodded lightly, and said plainly: "The boy back then and Chen Hu today never thought that he was the only one missing. Senior Zhou...he may not have regretted it."

Whether it's falling in love with a witch, whether it's being coaxed by her because of falling in love with this witch, or indirectly affecting the fallen devil who he loved since childhood, he has never expressed his heart.

The pain that settled in the depths of his soul split his soul into two people.

"So he later knew that the wife Chen Hu killed was a witch, no wonder he didn't kill Chen Hu... But even if he didn't know, maybe he wouldn't kill him."

Fang Yourong: "Hate is hate, pain is pain."

Qin Yu felt this kind of emotion very much, so he lowered his eyes, but didn't show it, he just asked, "Then who is Chen Hu now?"

Fang Yourong glanced at the direction of the prison.

She has checked the inside and outside of Wuque, and now that the sect is under her control, she naturally understands the reality of the prison.

"Dead, body in ashes, in the furnace."

So kill it anyway?

It was rare for Qin Yu to make a mistake in his judgment, but he suddenly smiled.

"No wonder he has to serve his sentence in the underworld, I'm afraid it's a reincarnation for Chen Hu and his wife."

Zhou Xuanqing has great merit in saving the world of Tianzang, but even so, he is willing to suffer punishment in the underworld.

Cancellation of merits and suffering punishment are two different things.

Both Qin Yu and Fang Yourong deeply understood the matter and didn't say much, but they felt the same thing in their hearts.

"The more ruthless people's hearts are, it's probably because the only soft-heartedness is reserved for a very small number of people."

Therefore, what outsiders see is only ruthless and vicious.

For example Zhou Xuanqing, for example. ． ．

"I don't know if Grandpa Patriarch is such a person."

Qin Yu seldom asks Fei Chuan and Xie Tingyongxue's past, and other people don't dare to inquire about it. Do you think people like Chu Ci have considered the stories of these two back then?

No.

It's just because I realized that it was the inviolable Ni Lin, so I didn't dare to offend it.

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Ancient Shu is the first place where human civilization was born in the Tianzang world. It is classical, graceful, and exquisite, with a bit of sedimentary charm and unconcealable decadence of the times.

If it's too long, it's hard to hide the dead air.

It has been ten thousand years, and this is Xie Tingyongxue's first visit, but every place here is exactly the same as it was ten thousand years ago.

A street, some roads, some trees, some flowers.

She was walking on the path, entering from the shadow of the green bamboo, and there was a light rain in the middle, and exiting from the opening where the flower branches hang down and the flowers are clustered, she already had a brown oil-paper umbrella in her hand. On the small bridge, she paused for a moment, and glanced at the third floor of a building at the opposite end of the bridge.