In the past twelve years, has he also unconsciously depicted the wooden wheel and counted the time?

The wind blows.

The row of bells under the eaves shook and jingled, shaking off the snow. The snowflakes were rolled towards the edge of the Tianchi Lake, and together with the falling red plums, they rose and fell, and were reflected in the white crescent moon on the ice surface.

The month has risen.

A lightly sweaty hand reached the window and pushed it open halfway. The bright moonlight slanted into the room at once, like a river flowing through before it collapsed. The boy who pushed the window dropped his wrist into the river, and his skin was three or four points clearer than the moonlight.

Soon, he was dragged back into the dark shadow.

The belly of the finger was cold, and the phalanx sank into the flesh.

The fingerprints imprinted on the pure skin became the mark of all.

"...Alo."

Qiu Bodeng wrapped his arms around Shi Wuluo's neck, biting his icy shoulders, so that he could not let himself fall backwards.

It is the evil spirit who asks for warmth from the living, and it is the demon who grabs the driftwood, trying to make up for all the time they have missed, and to fill the insurmountable gap between life and death.

Therefore, one is asking for infinity, and the other is asking for giving.

At some point, the chain connecting the two souls appeared. The thin chains were looming, wrapping around the wrist bones and elbows, and disappeared into the warm quilt that Qiu Bo Deng had pulled from the cold.

The trembling became deep into the soul.

Maybe crazy, maybe obsessed.

Otherwise, how can you allow yourself to be completely branded as belonging to another person? From the inside to the outside, from the flesh to the soul, since then there has been armor and shackles.

But what does it matter?

Besides this person, who else will wait for him for thousands of years? Who else would insist on lighting the altar bonfire in desperation and hopelessness, calling for sacrifices again and again, and going deep into the wilderness again and again? Besides this person, who else would be willing to go into a demon after his death, fighting in the darkest and most alive place, with boundless desires and thoughts but always reluctant to get him dirty? Who else can he tell his grief to, but this man? Who can tell him about his ordeal?

When you are alone, living is just a long ordeal.

Right or wrong.

It doesn't matter whether it's right or wrong, in life and death, it's good to sink together, and let pain become another kind of happiness.

Qiu Bodeng groped on his left wrist.

Of the two dark golden Kuilong bracelets, the one belonging to an adult man is wider. It is extra loose when worn on his wrist. When his arm is shaken, it will collide like a row of bells outside the window, making a crisp sound. . Qiu Bodeng found it, grabbed the riveted part of the mechanism, and pulled it off.

Trembling swept through.

At the moment when his breathing was unsustainable and he was almost on the verge of death, Qiu Bodeng buckled the removed Kuilong bracelet on Shi Wuluo's wrist.

With a small "click" sound, the fangs and tail thorns in the golden Kuilonglong's mouth were intertwined, and he locked the evil ghost and his lover.

Release your arms.

Qiu Bodeng fell backwards into the drenched quilt.

The evil spirit who was chained by him leaned over and grabbed his right hand, and the cold air flowed through the wound that was cut when he hastily tore off the Kuilong bracelet. The bleeding stopped immediately, and even the wound disappeared, leaving only a line of bright red blood on the white fingertips, which was kissed little by little.

Qiu Bodeng let him move and just whispered:

"From now on, don't lie to me."

Chapter 129 "I love you."

Sunrise at dawn, snow in the sky.

Light poured in from the half-opened window, and slanted across the small half of the lacquer flower in the wrong cloud.

A piece of Danzhu's sleeves dangles on the side of the short case, a beautiful white hand rests on the table, the fingertips are illuminated into warm red, and there are many eye-catching finger marks on the wrist bone, which seems to be held by someone last night. He clasped his wrists, imprisoned on the bed, and had nowhere to hide from all the possessions that went deep into his soul.

Qiu Bodeng lay lazily on the table, not wanting to move a finger.

The culprit knelt upright behind him, holding a wooden comb, combing his long hair.

Qiu Bodeng originally wanted him to stay in the Wu Nuo mask, but Shi Wu Luo chose Ruomu Ling Puppet as his sustenance. Puppets, people and ghosts, themselves have the meaning of providing shelter for ghosts, and if the wood spirit puppet was carved and infused by him, the two have similar breaths. After being possessed, Shi Wuluo's illusory feeling of being a demon almost completely faded away.

I don't know if it was the influence of the pattern engraved in the Ruomu Spirit Puppet, or the remaining memories, Shi Wuluo still had the habit of combing Qiu Bodeng's hair and hair after waking up in the morning.

The teeth of the comb brushed across the scalp with the same force as before.

Gently, rustling.

Makes people drowsy.

Fingertips fiddled with the large and small wolves hanging on the grid, watching them sway from side to side in the light. The shadow of the pen fell on the wrist and overlapped with the finger marks. Qiu Bodeng glanced at the traces that had not disappeared until now, and complained casually: "You have pinched them all red..."

As soon as the words came out, they felt very familiar.

... it's red, you pinched it.

...does it hurt?

It was the night of the reunion of the city. The ancient leaves are like snow, and the light and shadow sway in the breeze. There were three Erques standing on the lower branches. A Luo disguised as a young master Zhu. He was still the little master Taiyi who deceived himself. He raised his "pinched" wrist and jokingly asked for an apology.

Thinking of such a thing, it happened that Shi Wu Luo inserted a hosta horizontally/through the bun, and Qiu Bodeng was interested.

He turned around, raised his wrist, put it in front of Shi Wuluo, and teased him with a smile: "Why don't you ask me if it hurts?"

Saying that, Qiu Bodeng couldn't help but snorted lightly.

When Zucheng met again, he would ask if it hurts when he brushed his hair and pressed his hand. ... It can be seen that all useless places are careful.

Shi Wu Luo put down his comb.

The dark eyes printed red marks on the snow skin.