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    The most important person in the world for ink burning, except for the late night, is the teacher.

    I used to swear that I was a teacher, but I found out that it was not, but I did not change his mind and cherish his mind.

    Although I gradually feel that the teacher is strange, I feel that this tall figure is like a man with a charm. Although the original bowl of hand-to-hand was only ordered by the teacher, it was sent to Chu Xiening, but in any case, Shi Mingjing was the original teacher.

    It was in the darkness and stumbling, smiling at him and reaching out to his companions.

    It is a brother who is accompanying him and willing to give him comfort when he is lonely and unwilling.

    I think that the teacher is also an orphan. In this world, there is no longer a relative. Xue Meng is also very proud. Although he has a good relationship with the teacher, but for so many years, the teacher has not called Xue Meng’s name, but Bi Gongbi respected him as a young master.

    If you can really call a teacher a "friend", you will only have yourself.

    As a result, he also hurt his heart.

    Xue Meng was hiding in the bamboo forest. He held his arms and arms for a long time. He saw the ink burning and stayed there, playing with a silver comb, and seemed to have something to worry about.

    After waiting for a little half an hour, there was no movement, Xue Meng began to feel like an idiot -

    What do you think of yourself, how do you feel that the relationship between the teacher and the ink burns? Is the brain broken? The more he stood and the more he felt, the more he felt that he was inexplicable. At the end, Xue Meng turned and wanted to go, but it was the same brother. He and the ink burned almost the same mistake.

    Relaxed for a while, did not control the footsteps.

    The ink burned up and sank through the gauze curtain: "Who?"

    "..." Under the moonlight, Xue Meng reluctantly, unscrupulously smashed out, his eyes dodging, and a light cough.

    The ink burned a bit: "What are you doing?"

    "Only the state official set fire, do not allow the people to light up?" Xue Meng did not dare to look at the burning eyes, his eyes flickered, but it was plausible, but his face was red, "I just want to see the Master."

    The ink burned his mind and moved, vaguely understanding that Xue Meng followed his own possibility, and could not help the ground color to stagnate, but he quickly adjusted his own look and recovered his calm before Xue Meng was aware of it.

    "Since it is here, sit for a while."

    Xue Meng did not quit, followed by the bamboo pavilion.

    Ink burned him: "Want to drink tea, or wine?"

    "Tea." Xue Mengdao, "Drinking will be drunk."

    On the table, there is wine and tea. The ink burns a red mud stove. The flames in the night light up. According to his clear outline, he cooks the eight treasure tea on the stove. The two brothers sit in the bamboo pavilion. On the bench, one leaned against the pavilion and waited for the water to boil.

    Xue Meng asked him: "How come you are so early? Originally, you should be worth half a night."

    "There is nothing left and right, I will come over." The ink burned and smiled. "Are you not?"

    Xue Meng thought, it seems that it is.

    The smoldering should be the same as oneself, but it is only concerned with the teacher. After all, after the war, the smoldering gradually changed. Nowadays, it has passed, and he and the younger boy who was in the first place are very different. The apprentice saved by his life has finally grown into a man who is upright.

    Dropping the eyelashes, Xue Meng indulged for a moment and smiled slyly.

    Ink burning asked: "What?"

    "No, I remembered the last retreat." Xue Mengdao, "At that time, you were not convinced by the Master, for ten days, you came to see him, and then said that he could not bear enough, afraid that he could not serve him. I ran to pick up the books there. I was still sulking in my heart at that time. I didn’t think that after seven years, you would become like this.” The ink burned for a while, then said: “People will change. ""

    Xue Meng asked: "I want to give you another chance, let you go back seven years ago, you still can't run?"

    "What do you say?"

    Xue Meng really thought about it seriously, and then said: "I am afraid that I will think about ten days and ten nights, and I will be with my teacher."

    The ink burned low and laughed.

    "Hey, what are you laughing at." Xue Meng changed his position. One foot rested on the bench of the bamboo pavilion, and the elbow rested leisurely. The head and neck leaned back slightly, and his eyes flowed to the end of his eyes, glaring at his own church. Brother, "Now you and I have the same mind for the Master, what do I think, you should not be too much."

    The ink burns: "Well."

    Xue Meng passed the scorpion and looked at the wind chimes at the pavilion. He said, "It's very good. At the beginning, the teacher respected his body. I blame him for changing his life with his life. But today, you are not all." conscience."

    I don’t know what to say, but it’s "hmm".

    Bells, jingling in the wind.

    A few silences, Xue Meng couldn't help but turn his head, his eyes were burning, his eyebrows were slight, and he suddenly asked him: "Cough, what, actually, there is something, I want to ask you."

    "You said."

    "You tell me the truth, that day in the mountains, you guys..."

    In fact, Xue Chen always knows that Xue Meng always wants to ask this question.

    Seven bends and eight times around, still have not escaped. He waited for him to go on.

    However, Xue Meng was a half-day, his face was white and red, red and white. In the end, he couldn’t say the sentence. He only fixedly looked at the ink and said: "You really... are you looking for sweet-scented yoghurt rice cake? ?"

    The water is open, and the steam of steam is so long in the cold night, and the polymerization is dispersed.

    The eyes of the two meet, Xue Meng double smashed is anxious, flashing the hot flame, the dark eyes of the ink burned the ancient well without waves, deep bottomless.

    "You can drink tea."

    Xue Meng grabbed his arm and stared at him: "Are you really looking for sweet-scented osmanthus cake?!"

    "..."

    The ink burned for a moment, earned his hand, and went to the table to get a dark cast iron pot, one cup full, full.

    Then he narrowed his eyes and said: "If we are not looking for sweet-scented osmanthus cake, what else can we do?"

    "you--"

    "Master can't easily marry you, you don't believe me, you always have to believe him."

    Xue Meng seemed to be a small snake that was pinched by seven inches. The hand resting on his knee was slightly stunned, and then he bowed his head and said: "I didn't believe him."

    "Then drink tea." The ink sighed. "What do you want to think about all day? It’s all there is nothing." He bowed his head and blew the steam of steam, and his face looked so hot. Handsome, but somewhat ambiguous, such as the mirror of the water, teach people can not really cut.

    The Babao tea is warm and tastes salty. Xue Meng slowly drank a few mouthfuls. He felt that the hot stream made the frenzied heartbeat calm down. He finished drinking the tea, and the remaining temperature in the cup was still scattered. Hot air.

    Xue Meng bowed his head and suddenly groaned, as if he was talking about ink, and he said to himself: "I really care too much about him, I think so much, a little bit of wind, I am..."

    "I know." Mohburn said, "I am the same."

    Xue Meng turned his face and looked at him.

    The ink burned against the pavilion, the tea in the cup was not exhausted, and he drank another bit, and then said: "Because of this, I have misunderstood the teacher, you are at least better than me, not so impulsive."

    Xue Mengluoqi: "No wonder he saw that he left with you without two sentences. What did you misunderstand him?"

    "...not to mention it." The ink burned and smiled. "I can think more than you."

    Xue Meng wrinkled his nose: "He is a poor man. People in the famine are easy to eat. If they are not saved, he will become the meat in the hungry pot. The teacher has been waiting for you, you are good. Don't bully him."

    Ink ignited: "Well, I know, I was excited for a while, and I won't be in the future."

    The two guarded Chu Yuning in the pavilion, saying a word, not salty and not talking.

    This feeling is very wonderful, ink burning in the moonlight, Xue Meng that Zhang Junxiu, some natural arrogant face, this person in his previous life opened a hole in his chest, and later each time accompanied by tears and blood.

    I did not expect that they could talk so calmly, and in the lotus pond under the moon, cooking tea and cooking.

    Yes, cooking wine.

    After the tea was finished, Xue Meng did not intend to leave.

    When the ink burns, it has a hot pot of wine, a few drinks, and the right words, as long as you are not drunk, it is harmless.

    But he seems to have looked at Xue Meng's drink.

    They have four mentoring and apprentices. The ones that don’t fall for a thousand cups are Chu Xiening, and they are also okay. The amount of wine in the division is very poor, but Xuemeng is the most incurable. Two small cups of pears were white, and this person was a little dizzy and speeched.

    The ink burned and worried about getting into trouble, and he was busy collecting the wine and not giving him any drink.

    Although Xue Meng’s consciousness is chaotic, but it has not been completely lost, it is still clear, blushing, smiled and said: “It’s good to collect, I... I can’t drink any more.” “Yeah.” "You go back to rest, can you go now? Can't take my voice and let my uncle come over."

    "Oh, don't need him to come over, don't need him to come over." Xue Meng smiled and waved his hand. "I can go back and recognize the road."

    The ink burned and didn't worry, put a finger in front of him: "What is this?"

    "One."

    Also refers to Chu nightning: "Who is this?"

    Xue Meng smiled: "God fairy brother."

    "……speak politely."

    "Haha, Master, I know." Xue Meng smiled at the pillar.

    The ink burned and frowned, and the amount of Xue Meng’s drink was worse than the year. He was still uneasy. He also asked himself: "That, I see, don’t make a joke, who am I?"

    Xue Meng stayed for a while.

    Time seems to overlap with the old shadow at this moment. In the New Year's Eve of Meng Potang, Xue Meng was also drunk, recognizing the face of the teacher, saying that Chu Ning is a **** elder brother, and then slammed with ink, haha ​​smiled and said that the ink is a dog.

    The ink burned and looked at him calmly. When he prepared to speak a dog again, he secretly slammed Xue Meng and then called Xue Zhengyi to bring the little drunk back.

    However, Xue Meng looked at him and looked at it for a while. His face didn't know what it was. He finally opened his lips and twitched slightly. It seemed to be a "dog" sound. Ink burning is going to reach out to his mouth. "brother……"

    The hand that had not yet been raised froze, and Xue Meng looked at him with gaze, slowly and whispered, and shouted: "Brother."

    The ink burned a bit, as if it had been smashed by a bee, the sting was filled with severe pain, and the pain was sore because of the poison. He blocked his throat and couldn't say a word. He only looked at Xue Meng's face, young, arrogant, and arrogant.

    On this face, ink burned to hate, anger, and inferiority.

    I have never seen his look at the moment.

    Xue Mengmo glared at the Dragon City Sabre at his waist. It was the smoldering of the great demon charm, and won the best spirit stone, and sent it for him.

    Without this knife, he might not be able to win the first place in the Lingshan Conference. Without this knife, he might only be a monk who was named as an unknown and bears the wound of Zhong Yong.

    When he was awake, for reasons like this, out of self-respect and face, he never said a word of praise with ink, but he was actually very uncomfortable - when he wiped the dragon city every day, it was a mood. Thousands, mixed feelings.

    Especially after the return of the Confucianism Gate, it was known that the smoldering saved himself from Xu Shuanglin’s men. Xue Meng was even more tormented. After waking up, I heard that the ink burning and Chu Yuning were still missing. He burst into tears and everyone thought he was Just crying for his master, only Xue Meng himself knows that that night, he was holding a dragon city sabre, lying on the sickbed, looking at the darkness, hoarsely said:

    "Brother, sorry."

    Where are you...you and the master... are you ok?

    The ink burned and said nothing, and the whole person could not move. The whole person was settled, so he stood in the same place.

    Yesterday, all kinds of waters have passed, and they have passed by.

    He thought of the life and death of the past life, Xue Meng alone went up the mountain, standing in the cold Wushan Temple, red eyes and asked him the fall of Chu Yuning.

    Xue Meng said: "Ink rain, you look back..."

    He thought that after he stepped on the emperor, Xue Meng and Mei Hanxue ambushed the assassination. In the blue sky, Mei Xueshi blocked his way. Xue Meng was screaming, his face twisted and twisted, the scimitar pierced his chest, and his blood was arrogant.

    Xue Meng said: "No one can save you from the rain, this world can't hold you!"

    He thought of a pile of pieces of hatred, angry, fiery, dragon snake dancing.

    He thought of the day when he was born in the middle of the night, Xue Meng screamed and snarled and slammed him on the wall. The cervical artery violently snarled and roared like a beast: "How can you say that he does not save you... How can you Say he won't save you!!"

    Suddenly, my heart flashed, and there was a shimmer in front of my eyes.

    Perhaps it is such a rigid stand of ink burning, it really stood too long, and reminded him of the earliest, earliest, most vague memory.

    He seems to have seen two teenagers, a thin and powerful, horrified, like abandoned dog that was used to being beaten, squatting in front of the small table in the disciple's room, kneeling on the bench, the little hand clinging tightly, protecting Knees, no movement, it is himself.

    There is also a teenager, like a snow jade, pretty and cute, like a small ostrich with a bright and dazzling wings, he stands with a beautiful machete around his waist, stepping on a chair with his feet, black and round His eyes glared at him.

    "My mother asked me to come see you." Juvenile Xue Meng shouted, "I heard that you are my cousin?... It looks so cold."

    The ink burns without snoring, bows his head, and is not used to being stared at like this.

    Xue Meng asked: "Hey, what is your name? Ink... that ink... Hey? Tell me, I don't remember."

    "..."

    "Ask you, why don't you say anything?"

    "..." "Are you dumb?!"

    After three times, the teenager Xue Meng laughed: "I said that you are my cousin, seeing you are only unassuming, thin and unbearable, the wind blew and ran away. I have such a shameful brother, it is a joke."

    The ink burned lower and he refused to pay attention to him.

    So silent, suddenly a bright red in front of him, handed him this bright red person is too rude, almost poked to his nose, ink burned for a while, only to find that it is a bunch of candied fruit.

    "Give it to you."

    Xue Mengdao.

    "I can't eat anyway."

    He took a box of snacks, and he was still on the table at random, with a charismatic attitude, but the ink burned and looked at him. He only thought that he was very lavish and generous. No one had ever given him so much. There is no demand.

    "Here……"

    "What?" Xue Meng frowned. "What do I have to do with me? What are you talking about?"

    "I can eat this string?"

    "what?"

    "In fact, as long as one is enough... you can't eat, I will..."

    "You are sick? Are you a dog? Eat the rest of others?" Xue Meng's eyes widened and he thought it. "Of course it's all yours! This whole series, this whole box is yours." !"

    The lacquered wooden dice are exquisitely crafted, and the cranes and clouds that are painted with gold powder on the top are the atmospheres that the ink has never seen before.

    He didn't dare to reach out, but his black eyes had been staring at the blind man. He saw that Xue Meng had some hair, and he raised his hand and opened the snack for him. The rich milky fragrant fragrant bean paste was mixed in one, three horizontal and three vertical. A total of nine, some golden crisp, some pink and soft, and some of the skin is crystal clear, blown can be broken, faintly can see the soft red bean paste inside.

    Juvenile Xue Meng did not look at it and pushed the whole box of snacks to him. He was impatient and annoying: "Come on, if it is not enough, I still have it, I can't finish it, just give it to you." ”

    This little son has a bad attitude and a bad tone. The black and white rounded scorpion is still turned upside down, and a pair of nostrils look down on the human virtue.

    But the dessert fruit handed to him is sweet and soft.

    Through the bitterness of the two worlds, bloody, a little bit of sweetness, it seems to return to the tip of the tongue. In the moonlight, Xue Meng was drunk, and Xue Meng also sewed his throat and stared at him. After a while, Xue Meng smiled, drunk, and did not know what to laugh at.

    He loosened the column he was holding, and seemed to want to slap a shot of his shoulders, but he was unsteady and groaned, and he fell into his ink.

    "Hey... brother..."

    The ink burned, and then slowly lowered his eyes, gently patted Xue Meng's back, the night wind boasted, his broken hair covered half of Zhang Jun face, no one knows what kind of look is ink burning, After a long time, Xue Meng, who was in poor drinking, fell asleep in his arms. At this time, the ink burned hoarsely.

    "Xue Meng, I am sorry, I am not worthy of being your brother..."

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