The forest is lonely, and the ancient trees are towering. The staggered vines of the pen &www.biquge.info amp; fun & pavilion climbed all over the branches, the wet moss covered with strong roots, and countless small white mushrooms shimmered with a faint blue fluorescence, quietly rising and dissolving into the bright and clear golden sunlight.

The morning light is shallow, like a flying golden catkins, quietly spilling from the sky above the forest.

Light chestnut hair fluttered with a hazy sunlight and scattered over his shoulders. Qianling stood in the forest glade sprinkled with crystal light spots, her clean white dress swept up by the breeze and fluttered on her knees.

The familiar temperature is transmitted from the clenched palm of the hand.

Very familiar,

But it faintly stings.

The long hair is as deep as ink, dancing with a faint golden morning light, pouring down from the chest and waist, clear as a waterfall.

Lan Yue stood in the forest glade where light and shadow intertwined, quietly staring at the back in front of her, her thin lips pursed lightly.

He looked at her, with a touch of persistence in his eyes, and slowly clenched the palm of his hand.

Qianling still turned her back to him, did not speak, and slowly lowered her head.

His hand was gently wrapped, and the warm temperature came from his palm.

She suddenly realized in a trance,

The hand that was tightly held was white and slender, with distinct joints, and it was no longer the small, soft palm it was at the beginning.

Once, she could easily wrap his hand in the palm of her hand, but now it was upside down, and her hand became the one that was wrapped.

The eyelashes drooped, and Qianling looked at the light spots on the ground in a daze.

I remember that in the past, whether it was going to Tianshui Market to buy vegetables, go for a walk in the garden, or go shopping on Tianshui Street......

She always held his hand like this.

At that time, he was silver-haired and cold-eyed, silent, and even his hands were always cold. She thought of many ways, she tried to add as many clothes as possible, cooked more food for lunch that would strengthen her physique, and soaked her hands in warm water......

But he never warmed his hands. It's like an innate temperature, and it can't be changed.

It's just that when she held his hand, she could feel a slight warm temperature in the palm of the palm that was gently touching.

Like the winter sun, hidden behind cool and heavy clouds, it is not blazing, not scorching, but still warm and bright.

I remember that at that time, she always wrapped her own hand around his small palm, and whenever she felt the slightly cool hand in her palm gradually become warmer, she would feel happy from the bottom of her heart.

Since his hands can't warm themselves, it's better to give him her warmth.

Qianling looked at the golden morning light of the forest in front of her like an ethereal veil, and slowly lowered her eyelashes.

Warmth lingers in the palm of your hand.

Feeling the hand that gently wrapped her, the fingers that were still a little cold, and the palm that was still as warm as the winter sun...... But it is no longer as young and soft as it was at the beginning.

There was a voice sighing in the depths of my heart.

Oh, yes...... Xiaoyue has grown up, and she no longer needs her to warm him with her own hands.

It's not the same anymore.

Or, from the very beginning, it was different.

He was never a child, just as he was never an angel of Elanys, never ...... Good class.

The things he had done seemed unforgivable to her, but to him, to the demons, and to any force hostile to Ellens, it was a matter of course.

Now that she lives in this demon clan territory with the orc people in the Yinfeng River Valley, under the fence, it is good to be able to survive, where is she qualified to blame anyone?

Once in her heart, Xiaoyue was like the purest and flawless crystal snowflake in the world, although he was always quiet and did not speak, but his eyes were always full of a snowy world, clean and clear, crystal clear, so gentle and quiet, so considerate and lovely.

Now it is soaked in blood.

Or maybe in the beginning, whiteness was just a disguise.

She's a fool and a coward. At first, he was convinced, but later when he touched the bloody truth, he only dared to bury his head in the soil like an ostrich, or run away as far as he could, without thinking, without looking, pretending not to know anything.

But sometimes, I still forget it suddenly......

Forget who he is, forget what he's done.

Just like when she saw the daylight suddenly burst out before, she forgot everything, and only thought about ......

Satsuki, Satsuki is there.

If you don't hurry, if you don't block out the light...... He's going to die.

Even if he was a demon, even if he had killed so many people in Ellens, even if he had never told her the truth, even if he had been planning for a long time......

But he's also her little moon.

The one who quietly wipes her rain-soaked hair with a towel, wears an apron to make poached eggs for her to eat, stands in front of her without giving in when someone finds fault with her, and always comes like a god when she encounters danger.

But the bottom of my heart is still tingling, small and clear, over and over again. It was as if there was a very deep and long thorn pierced in the heart, cutting and not being able to pull it out, and every time I saw him, I touched those warm hands......

But the thorn pierced deeper.

The circles under his eyes were red, and the corners of his eyes were gradually moistened. Qianling lowered her head and sniffed, and with a slight effort, withdrew her hand from his hand.

The morning breeze is shallow, rolling up the black robe, blowing lightly with the wind.

He looked at her back, feeling his fingers being broken away little by little, and his palms that were gradually clenched became empty and cold again.

Can't be retained.

Slowly lowering his eyelashes, a touch of gloom passed under his eyes, and his empty hand clenched little by little, but it was difficult to leave even a little familiar warmth.

obviously still cares, but he is always stubborn and refuses to admit it.

“…… Do you still hate me?"

The voice was low, coming from behind him.

Qianling was stunned, slowly turned around, and looked at the person behind her.

The black hair fell down to his chest like a waterfall, and the long hair was dyed with a faint golden morning light, gently fluttering in the wind.

He stood there quietly, his head bowed, his eyelashes hanging slightly, hiding the sadness in his eyes.

Qianling looked at his vaguely pale face, and her heart suddenly softened, as if she was being pinched by something.

She pursed her lips and shook her head slowly:

"Satsuki...... You've helped me a lot, and I have no reason to hate you. ”

It's just that...... Maybe it's better not to meet.

If there's a thorn in your heart that you can't pull out, it's better not to touch it.

He looked at her, slowly lowered his eyelashes, and didn't speak.

"And ......"

As if remembering something, Qianling raised her head and looked at his face, her eyes gradually became gentle and soft, revealing a faint light:

"I haven't thanked you yet, Satsuki, the last time I was besieged by the guards, thank you for saving me, and Xiao Jiu...... Thank you too. ”

He looked at the gentle light in her eyes and paused:

“…… Chirp?"

"It's the giant horned demon who escaped from the beast farm, because it always likes to 'chirp', so I call it 'Little Chirp'. She explained in a serious way.

He looked at her serious appearance, and his eyes were a little strange.

I remember that when she was in Ellens, she wanted to name him "Xiaobai" because of the color of his hair and eyes.

At that time, he still had some instinctive hostility towards her, and he didn't plan to deal with her, but he was forced to say his original name by this inexplicable title.

After all this time, the level of naming has not improved at all.

He looked at her serious appearance, slowly lowered his eyelids, and his clear dark red eyes gradually showed a touch of helplessness, and there was a little nostalgia in his helplessness.