"Why didn't you talk the other day? Play stupid?"

"If the wooden puppet can only use the secret technique, the spiritual consciousness of the engraved puppet can be attached to it." Shi Wuluo explained a little crampedly, "Besides, it is an ordinary witchcraft incarnation." He put the celadon cup on the table, "... order the life scale to have the spiritual sense in person, you..."

He originally wanted to say, if you are not happy, I will use the secret technique on the puppet in the future.

I don't know why, but don't want to say it.

"A life scale?" Qiu Bodeng pressed and swiped with his finger in the shallow cup. When he turned around again, the fingertip was dyed a bright and transparent red, and the fine sand stars sparkled and rose, and the fingertip quickly returned. After returning to the cold and white, there was nothing left, "Aren't you the head of the ten witches? Do you still know the things of Licheng?"

"Um."

Shi Wuluo responded in a low voice and took out an ebony pen from his sleeve.

The head of the pen is about one inch long, and the tube is five inches long. Shi Wuluo used the cup cover to collect some of the rain from the city and came in. After slightly moistening the tip of the pen, he slanted and dipped the finger marks wiped by Qiu Bodeng in the shallow cup. After entering the body of the brush, the color is thick and full, and a few strokes of thin Zhu are left on the edge of the porcelain.

Qiu Bo Deng watched him do this without saying a word, and there was no expression on his face.

It was not until Shi Wuluo wrote the pen and his hand was in the air that he raised his head slightly and turned his face to the light.

The moment the tip of the pen fell to the corner of the eye, it was a little hot. At first, it fell into the flesh like a little spark, without pain, and soon dispersed into the bone, so it was like a handful of warm water. People wipe away. Qiu Bodeng couldn't see how Shi Wuluo moved his brush and how he fell, but he was very good at fine brushwork.

The stroke of the pen was like a cloud of clouds at the beginning of the collapse, splattered a star of thick blood, and then wiped it away, it faded away like a cicada's wings, gradually faded away, and finally returned to the front.

"All right."

Shi Wuluo kept his wrist steady and drew the last scale pattern. He finally felt more at ease, and he breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as he started to draw the pen, his illusory figure suddenly faded again. The pale and illusory hand trembled, and the pen that was originally held firmly in his hand trembled.

The residual sand brewing in the pen flew out and splashed to the place where the corner of Qiu Bodeng's eyes was slightly downward.

Inadvertently, like a drop of Zhu tear.

Shi Wuluo was stunned, and instinctively reached out to wipe it off, but was separated by Qiu Bodeng.

"It's alright," Qiu Bodeng drew out the Taiyi sword, and looked at the sharp sword body, "It's pretty good-looking."

The scales of life are like Tong, and the ancient beauty is beautiful.

A little bit of Yusha fell right under his eyes, like blood and tears, like joy and sadness, and suddenly there was a bit of pressing evil.

Shi Wuluo slowly retracted his hand under his sleeve, curled up little by little, and clenched it tightly.

Qiu Bodeng looked at Tai Yijian's blade.

"Do you know?" He laughed suddenly, his eyebrows were full of eyes, scales and tears came to life together, "I used to laugh when I was in pain."

The white wax burned finely, and the candle wick burst into a dark flame. The candle flame first dimmed, then jumped upwards, and then lit up again. Shi Wu Luo suddenly suffocated in his heart, and the pain was so painful that he could hardly maintain his dharma body... He remembered that day, when he passed through the raging fire on East Third Street of Zhucheng, and saw the red-clothed boy staggering up in the smoke and flames , swing the sword.

No hesitation, no hesitation.

It's like don't like this world at all in heart, and don't miss it at all.

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to laugh."

Shi Wuluo wanted to say something, but he couldn't say it. He just felt like there were countless things stuck in his chest and throat. He didn't know what those were, and he didn't know how he suddenly felt so painful.

"Later I found out that when you laugh, it hurts when you laugh."

Saying anything is fine, and laughing doesn't hurt.

Can you deceive others and deceive yourself?

Qiu Bodeng threw the Taiyi sword on the table and leaned back on the chair, his face half-bright and half-dark, sinking into the shadows. His voice was as quiet as a deep lake, and there was no way to distinguish between joy and anger through the layers of cold ice.

"Go back to your southern border, and don't get in the way."

………………

The southern Xinjiang has many mountains and many evil trees.

The forest is dense with no daylight, the shade is thick and cold, the ancient brown trunks and roots are like swords and walls, and the pure black basalt altar is hidden in a circle of tall trees. The vines coiled around the tree bloomed with dark copper-colored bell flowers, and when the wind blew, the bells and bells rang out indistinctly.

Shi Wu Luo woke up to the copper bell.

He opened his eyes, and his pupils printed crisscrossed tree trunks and broad leaves that were almost inky.

"Why did you wake up early?"

Some people beside them knocked their pipes on the sarcophagus, knocking out some unburned ashes.

No matter how terrified and disgusted Middle Earth and the rest of the continents are towards Southern Border, and how wild it feels, there is one thing in Southern Border they cannot do without, and that is tobacco. Tobacco leaves only come out of the southern border, even though some merchants have painstakingly transplanted it to other places, what grows out is not the smell of witch smoke in the southern border.

There was a joke in the past. Among the hundreds of clans, the patriarch of the Changyu clan once wrote thousands of words, denouncing Wuyan as "barbaric people, witchcraft", calling it "the poison that spreads thousands of miles and must be prevented", calling on the world People together to quit witchcraft, to prevent Southern Gu. Chang Yu's family has always been good at writing, and the patriarch is even more proficient in five cars. His words are earnest and passionate. Once Ciyan Fu came out, there was almost no trace of Nanyan on Kongsang's face for three months.

Some guests went to visit Chang Yu's family and praised him as "the great virtue of the Duke". As soon as Mr. Chang Yu bowed his hands in return, a cloud of smoke floated from his sleeves.

The guest smiled curiously, and asked, "Why does the lord hide Wu Yan?"

Chang Yu replied: "It's not witch smoke, it's a cloud outside the sky.

As soon as the cigarettes came out, Kongsang smoke ghosts suddenly reappeared in the streets and alleys, puffing clouds and mist more than ever. Not only that, but they also laughed at each other, saying, where are we smoking from the southern border, this is the sleeve of the Changyu clan of outer clouds.