The night was as cold as water, the sound of the wind penetrated from the window lattice, and the rolled up dust adhered to the bed and floated.

On the couch, Ji Jiu opened the curtain and seemed to be aware, but waited and waited, the whole house was silent, and there was no sound after the wind. In the dark night, the air is cold and the lights and candles are dark. In such an atmosphere, this simple study room is suddenly quiet and lonely. He should have shared the time he spent in January with his wife and children, but on the first day of returning home, the woman in his arms was regarded as his own face on the bed, as if he was watching himself being covered by others. Under him... but he couldn't even escape, he gritted his teeth and hurriedly finished before pretending to be nothing.

From then on, the joy and happiness in the boudoir of this ordinary family has nothing to do with him. Even if he didn't want to admit it, the influence of the monster on him was indelible. Like the wounds of the old years, even if they healed, there would still be scars left, which are hideous.

Ji Jiu got up, put on a long robe and sat on the couch. The moonlight entered the house. The sky and the earth in front of the couch were as empty as water. After watching for a while, he walked out.

There was no one in the courtyard. He walked in the courtyard with only his shirt on and his hair was disheveled. Ye Feng picked up his hair, raised and fell, as if there was an invisible hand in the air, caressing it reluctantly.

In this life, there are no more flowers and plants in his courtyard. The blooming peonies, the roses spreading over the courtyard walls, the bright red and yellowish colors, and the beautiful and beautiful scene have all disappeared. Shen Qingxuan's life had bloomed desperately and wildly like a flower for thirteen years and then withered in an instant, but he kept a low profile to the level of simplicity. It seems that the intensity of that life has eroded his energy to the point of exhaustion. In this life, he just wants to spend his life calmly and quietly. It's simpler and simpler. Standing by the Sansheng Stone, Shen Qingxuan watched his short life quietly with a wisp of ghost, then took Meng Po soup and drank it calmly without hesitation.

He has loved, but he can't, and he has no regrets or regrets. In the next life, he didn't want to love or let himself live the days of repression and forbearance.

He was so forbearing that he didn't dare to say a word he liked. Depressed for the last month, the grey-haired Shen Qingxuan looked at Yimo who was in his prime, and dared not ask a question, do you regret being angry with me and ruining my years?

Have you ever regretted it?

Shen Qingxuan did not dare to ask. Don't think about this answer anymore.

He is dead, and Immortal will forget, and become immortal.

After crossing the Naihe Bridge, Shen Qingxuan died and Ji Jiu was born.

Unconsciously walking out of the courtyard gate, there is another high wall. The road between the walls is square and without decoration. This mansion and pavilion are all so workmanship, as if the pattern drawn by the craftsmen with a ruler is neat and correct. There is no trestle bridge, and no moonlight on the lotus pond. But because it occupies a huge area, there is a kind of spaciousness and a kind of solemnity. Ji Jiu walked slowly under the shadow of the high wall, occasionally walking into the moonlight, and quickly retreating back to the dark place, silent and soundless.

Unconsciously, walked to the side courtyard, the guest residence. Ji Jiu remembered that this was the yard where Shen Jue lived, and after a brief pause, he pushed open the courtyard door and walked in. There was no sound in the courtyard, but there was light. The candlelight was reflected through the tulle on the window, and sprinkled on the steps of the window, covered with a layer of orange. It was already late at night, and Shen Jue had never slept.

Through the window, Ji Jiu saw two figures in the room, who seemed to be drinking at the table. Occasionally there is a conversation, the voice is familiar, it is the monster and Shen Jue, but I can't hear what they are talking about. Ji Jiu didn't want to be an eavesdropper, and turned to leave, but when she heard the word "emperor", she stopped and turned back.

At that time, Shen Jue was talking with Yimo about the emperor in the imperial city, who was very heroic and very interesting. Then suddenly stopped, father and son looked at each other and silently turned to look out the window. How interesting is that person listening to the wall.

Yimo put down the wine glass, as if everything had never been clear, and continued the previous words, saying: "It's interesting, it's because I have an idea."

"Maybe it is." Shen Jue said neatly, calmed down for a moment, and then suddenly smiled: "I have seen him in person, and he doesn't care, but he is still motivated. Such a person is unparalleled in the world."

Yimo raised his eyebrows, but didn't answer the sentence. At that time, Shen Qingxuan knew that he was a demon, and he didn't show any timidity. Later, when he showed his real body, the man bluffed but never pushed him away.

Maybe this is the sadness of the demon, and the human figures are all good, making people happy. Once the real body was revealed, those who were happy before were all afraid and retreated. In the vast sea of ​​people, when meet someone who is not afraid or afraid, but dares to stick to them, appreciate it a little more, and with pity and cherishment, it will arise spontaneously.

Yimo poured the wine by himself and brought it to his lips, as if he was just talking casually: "I lived for more than a thousand years before I met a human who dared to hold my true body." After drinking, Put down the empty cup.

The cold liquid slid into the throat, warmed the throat and warmed the stomach, but could not warm the heart, the person who would cover him on the tip of his heart was no longer there.

Shen Jue filled him with wine again, put down the jug, and said silently for a moment, "Father is going to find the Xiongnu Royal Court, can father help him?"

Yimo shook his head, "No."

"This road is difficult and dangerous, and the child's simple deeds may not be able to protect it. Is my father really not going?"

"In his heart, this is his life's work, and others are not allowed to interfere. Even if I helped him send him to the Xiongnu and painted him, he didn't appreciate it. He has to do his own business." Yimo said lightly. : "Otherwise, his life will be meaningless. If he dies in the future and stands in front of the Sansheng Stone, he will blame me for a lot of things."

Yimo said lightly, picked up the wine and sipped slowly, but remembered the scene when he returned to the mountain to shed his skin after the catastrophe that year, and that person went to his parents at this time to apologize and was covered in injuries.

It's always been this way. What he should do, he will never shirk the blame, and he should suffer, no matter how hard it is. Never take chances and opportunistically because there are powerful demons around.

It is said to be cunning and cunning, but it is a headache, and it is said to be upright, but it often uses some treacherous methods. It is this contradictory temperament that makes Shen Qingxuan so mad and decisive. Make him reluctant to let go.

Shen Jue nodded, agreed with what he said, and said, "It's just that, baby." After saying this, he couldn't help but look at the man who kept calling him "Daddy" outside the window. In this life, in addition to him, there are two other people who also have the qualifications to call his father. Shen Jue had no resentment in her heart, she knew that she was the only one who couldn't let go of this family love, and she was the one who was reluctant to part. But the man under the window drank Mengpo soup and forgot his past. It was normal for him to marry and have children, so he didn't blame him. If you really want to study it carefully, Dad's life, the days of love between his children and his sons and daughters together, are not as much as what he had gained in a year.

Which of the youngest sons and daughters in this life has truly enjoyed the affection of father and son? Ji Jiu, who is a general, is not at home all the year round. How could he compare to him, the happy and innocent cuddle in Shen Qingxuan's arms every day when he was young.

Yimo drank the last glass of wine, got up and said, "It's late, I'm leaving."

Shen Jue followed and got up, but asked, "Where are you going?"

Yimo said, "Whatever." Whatever, it doesn't matter. He is a monster. He does not need human soft couch mattresses. He is not restrained. He can fall asleep even if he is lying on the side of the road, and he can cultivate even if he is guarding the dead branches. The sky is vast and it is easier for him to find a place to live. Just over a hundred years ago, I didn't know Shen Qingxuan, he was wandering the world; a hundred years later, when Shen Qingxuan was buried in the earth, he became a wanderer.

wandering so far.

Ji Jiu stood under the window with a blank face, no emotion, no sorrow, and no resentment. He just stood quietly, listening, and then looked up at the moon in the sky, the halo of Yuehua covering her. His face, his face blurred, the edges and corners were coated with a layer of soft light, completely bright and peaceful, but cold and desolate.

The door creaked and opened.

Yimo came out from behind the door, stood at the threshold, turned his face, his eyes were as black as ink, lit in the faint light, facing the opposite side, staring at each other in a daze.

The line of sight collided, as if the ancient rock formations covered with vegetation were fission, there was an undercurrent surging under the surface, the dust and soil trembled and swayed, the undercurrent broke out, and the sky and the sun swept over in an instant, Ji Jiu's whole body was slightly swaying. trembling.

Emer walked over.

His feet were silent, but they seemed to carry a thousand forces. Every step seemed to leave footprints on the ground. The footprints, step by step, from far to near, from shallow to deep, slowly but powerfully rolled over, As if to step on Ji Jiu's heart, as if to crush his existing world. Ji Jiu trembled even more.

Finally standing in front of him, Yimo looked into his eyes and became quiet.

It was as if a violent storm was swept through, destroying the rotten tree, but in front of this person, he put away all the severe and possible destruction. Just standing, quietly, looking at each other silently, guarding him in front of you.

Ji Jiu closed her eyes, opened them again, and asked in a low voice, "Who are you?"

"Demon." He replied.

"What's your name?" he asked again.

"Emo."

"who I am?"

Yimo lowered his eyes slightly and asked, "Who do you want to be?"

"Ji Jiu." He opened his eyes wide, calm and firm: "I'm Ji Jiu."

Yimo looked at him seriously, then nodded, "You are Ji Jiu."

It's Ji Jiu. Emo said.

Ji Jiu stood in the same place, the wind was blowing from behind him, his black hair was swaying in a mess, and he attacked backwards, covering his face.

An arm stretched out, a dark robe with large sleeves, and Ji Jiu, who was thinly dressed, was drawn into his arms.

The wind stopped suddenly, the cold air dissipated, and the sleeves of the robes were as large as a cloth tent, like an iron wall.