Panguan

To that day, exactly ten years.

He couldn't help suspecting that Wen Shi came back to the mountain to look at the lantern.

So he quickened his pace and returned to Songyun Mountain at nightfall.

He remembered that it was extremely cold that day, and a thin layer of frost formed on the mountain road. The foot of the mountain is very lively, and the people's language is mixed, and it can even be passed up along the mountain mist.

He listened to those voices, and when he reached the top of Kuaishan, he saw the man leaning among the pine branches.

Like a pile of tangled snow that fell early.

The man could recognize his footsteps, and almost immediately stood up from among the branches, fell to the ground, and looked at him from a not too far away.

Coincidentally.

The moment he landed, the people down the mountain had been busy all day, and finally the lights were released.

Hundreds of lanterns rose from the bottom of the mountain, crossed the pine forest and the mountain wall, and flew to a higher place. It was a grand sight that only happened once in ten years.

And Wen Shi didn't know it at all, with his back turned there, just looking at him.

At that time, Chenbu stopped for a while, and said to him, "Snowman, turn around."

Hearing this, he was startled for a moment, turned around, and saw the sky full of lights.

When he turned back, he was smiling.

He smiled and said, "The dust is gone, the winter solstice is here."

At that moment, Chen Bubu looked at him, and suddenly felt that all kinds of burdens were nothing more than that.

Maybe it was that winter night full of lights, he finally realized that he was not without concerns.

He has sent countless people, those who have nothing to do with him, those who are related to him, and he can always turn around and leave to say goodbye to the next scene.

Only this, as long as one more look, he can never go again.

Chapter 115 Eternal

"Why……"

By the shallow pool on the top of Songyun Mountain, Da Zhao sat on a round stone platform with his face in his hands, and heaved a long sigh.

"Hey..." Xiao Zhao squatted beside her and sighed too.

She was holding a long slender thatch, playing with the head of the little bastard in the shallow pond. This girl was very particular about dialing, she only teased one of them, and dared not touch the other.

"Stop it, it's so early in the morning, it's not mourning." Lao Mao stood aside with his sleeves rolled up, staring at the two of them, like a traditional and elegant elder.

"Is this called early in the morning?" Da Zhao looked up at the sky, looking at the sun approaching the top of his head, and asked Lao Mao.

"That's right." Xiao Zhao followed, "The sun is already drying our ass, so how can we call it early morning?"

They complained and complained, but their voices were very small, as if they were afraid of disturbing someone, so they could only gather together and whisper.

Lao Mao turned his head and glanced in the direction of the room, pouted his lips and said, "Well, the person in the room said that it is early morning, so it is early morning, and he wants to refute you two by going in."

"How long has he been up, and it's still early in the morning." Dazhao's old man lowered his head, sniffed, and said, "Yiyantang."

Xiao Zhao echoed: "Taking deer for horses."

Da Zhao: "Black and white are reversed."

Xiao Zhao: "Fun Lord."

Old Mao: "..."

If the one inside is considered a fool, according to his position, he is the eunuch waiting outside the door.

"Fuck you." Lao Mao yelled at the two girls.

It is also rare for a puppet to be so arrogant, standing together outside the puppet master's door and speaking ill of the puppet master, as if the puppet master could not hear him.

Just relying on the fact that the dust is less than the temper of the gods, I don't care about them.

Sometimes Lao Mao felt that he didn't treat them as puppets, but he only thought about it occasionally. What not to be a puppet?

There seems to be no other reference.

"Don't play around, you'll make something wrong in a while, you've managed to live for so many years." Lao Mao looked at the fine thatch in Xiao Zhao's hand, then at the little bastard, and couldn't help but say, "Let's talk about it again." , do you recognize it, don’t get me wrong.”

When Xiao Zhao heard this, the grass jīng trembled, quickly stopped his hands, and carefully held the little bastard and turned over.

Outsiders never know that there are words on the soft armor of the belly of these two treasures of Songyun Mountain, which were made by another big treasure of Songyun Mountain——

At that time, he was still young, and his handwriting was not as sharp and thin as later, but rather neat and childish.

Lao Mao still remembers that when he heard about it, he went down the mountain while the dust was not around, picked up one of the little bastards, put it belly up on the table, held a pen respectfully... and wrote the word "dust" on the soft armor. And silently threatened Lao Mao with his pitch-black eyes, not allowing him to complain.

It was at that time that Lao Mao deeply realized that the silent Xuetuanzi also knows how to skin, the kind of skin that comes out of nowhere, and it only hits the dust.

Lao Mao also remembers the result of the little bastard incident very clearly——

After Chen Bu returned to the mountain, he found the writing on Xiao Wang Ba's belly that day.

But he wasn't annoyed, he just leaned against the door to watch the little apprentice practice, and beckoned him into the room after he was done. He picked up another little bastard, put it belly up in front of the table, then took a pen and dipped it in ink, held Wen Shi's paw, and taught (bīforced) Wen Shi to touch it on the little bastard's soft armor Write a "time".

Then I shut myself up for two days when I heard it.

Lao Mao sighed in his heart: more than a thousand years have passed, the clouds are white, and things are different. The big baby back then is now sleeping on a bed that is not dusty.

Lao Mao silently turned his head back and glanced at the room.

As the golden-winged giant who was created by Chen Buhuo and grew up watching Wen Shi

Pengniao, his heart is very vicissitudes, filled with a complex emotion, this emotion is called: the palm of the hand and the back of the hand are all flesh, and he doesn't know who is pushing whom.