And An Yangjun can't feel this horror.

This has nothing to do with his current strange calm, in fact, during the time he has been traveling around, he has accumulated three Qingyun again, perhaps because of the troubled times and bad luck, the lucky Qingyun has nowhere to go, so he will be attracted by Wang Yu. This also caused Wang Hao's mood to begin to gradually recover, although weak and slow, but the difference between existence and non-existence was so obvious that it was impossible for him to admit his mistake.

Relieved, frightened, remorseful, unwilling, relieved, serene, he saw all kinds of emotions in the face of death, and more of them were still no emotions - death came so suddenly, they died before they had time to react, in order to defend their family and country, or for the ambition of the superior.

Nothing new under the sun.

He's a little bored.

Wang Hao held a bamboo umbrella and wandered aimlessly, he now wanted a peaceful land, a stable time. He didn't want to go back to Anyang, Wang Jiang, who wanted to kill him, was already contrary to the status quo that he had to survive, it was impossible for him not to be wary of her, Wang Ling didn't know about these things, and he didn't allow Rumia to tell Wang Ling the secret.

After a long absence, An Yangjun felt very tired.

He just wants to live a peaceful, peaceful life now.

[Wang Hao, can you stop drinking...... This kind of stuff really doesn't taste good. 】

The red-eyed blonde girl stuck out her little tongue in his left eye, and the return of emotion meant a resurgence of sorrow, even though there were many and high alcoholic beverages in this life, it was still too difficult to get Wang Yu drunk - when he didn't want to get drunk.

In fact, An Yangjun, who was covered in white mist, was walking crookedly at the moment, and he couldn't be called drunk like mud, and he definitely couldn't drink anymore.

"Isn't it delicious, Rumia?"

His expression was still calm, but beneath the calm surface was actually a blank blank of his brain.

[Not good to drink......]

"Then change this, mead. ”

Wang Hao casually threw away the wine gourd that still contained half a pot of liquor, took out a flat metal wine pot from the Spring and Autumn Dream, shook the wine jug, unscrewed the lid and poured it.

A smile appeared on Rumia's face.

[This is good, it is sweet. 】

"If you like it, if you like. ”

Wang Yu replied clearly.

In fact, his brain was cloudy, and no mind was working. It seems that he is awake just because Wang Hao's wine is fine, and he just falls asleep quietly after drinking too much. He stumbled off the beaten track, trying to find a place to live.

Although Wang Hui can live anywhere, he does not have an ideal standard of residence, he just keeps drinking, traveling, paralyzing himself, getting drunk and dreaming of death, he himself does not know what he should do now and what he wants to do.

He walked into the dense forest, and as he went, the wine in the jug was quickly drained, and he forgot to attach an "infinite" attribute to it, so he threw down the jug, took out a thermos again, and took a sip of the warm sweet rice wine with a large number of rice grains.

[This is good! This can still be eaten, it's amazing!]

Rumia cheered heartlessly, Wang Hao couldn't hear her clearly at this time, he walked deep and shallow among the rotten and dead leaves, and bumped into the trunk from time to time, although he would not be injured, but it was inevitable that the bark scraped off the broken branches hung on his white hair, Anyang Shenjun could be spotless, but he didn't want to. He needs to have more information interaction with the world, more things to make him forget Cangyun's departure, and suppress the sadness in his heart.

The willows and flowers are bright and bright in another village, Wang Yu almost kept by hitting the tree all the way, and now an open field suddenly appeared in front of him, and there was nothing in front of him, and the monster sage fell straight to the ground, and the thermos cup flew out, and the warm sweet wine was spilled on the ground.

After a long time, Wang Yu let out an unexpected muffled snort.

"Hmm......"

The gray-faced An Yangjun raised his head, and his dark eyes were now full of ghosting. In a trance, he seemed to see the once lush green bamboo forest, with brilliant golden sunlight connecting at the top of the bamboos, turning into a beating roulette wheel.

"Cangyun...... Cangyun!!"

At that moment, Wang Hui trembled as if he was ignited, but his chaotic thoughts made him unable to mobilize his strength, at this moment, in Wang Hui's mind, he couldn't tell whether he was an ordinary civil servant who had stayed with his wife for forty years or An Yangjun, a sage who ignited civilization and overlooked the world, the soul of the thirty-nine-year-old Wang Hui wept bitterly in Wang Anyang's body, he hurriedly and desperately crawled to the hallucinatory bamboo forest, mottled tears washed away the dust on his face, his expression was frightened and sad, like a dying fish after going ashore.

[Hey, Wang Yu, Wang Yu! That's not a bamboo forest! It's a flower field! You are sober!]

Rumia, who lives in Wang's brain, is not drunk, she does not have a body that can get drunk, and her mind is independent. So she could see that the place where Wang Hao looked like a bamboo forest was actually a sunflower field, this group of huge sunflowers that grew too well were each more than a zhang high, and the flowers were as big as stone mills, and the largest of them was comparable to a big tree, saying that the sunflower was more like a parasol, it occupied the most sunlight, took root in the most fertile land, and plundered the most nutrients, beside it, within five feet, there were no other plants, not even insects never existed, it was obviously a plant that received sunlight and sowed warmth, but it exuded an innate fierce aura, like a predator, people dare not approach。

"It's not...... Bamboo forest?"

Rumia was able to bypass the chaotic mind and directly stimulate Wang Yu's soul, so An Yangjun gradually calmed down, he instantly regained consciousness, the wine-stained mud on his body, and the dead branches and leaves inserted in his long white hair were immediately erased, An Yangjun got up from the ground and slowly walked towards this flower field.

He easily saw through the obstacles and saw a small, rickety female human skeleton on the bed of the cottage, and realized that the flower field was probably the only solace for someone who had escaped the war. He had no intention of destroying it, and in any case, it reminded him of the past, and this alone made An Yangjun feel good about it.

He wandered through the flower fields, and like Rumia, he was drawn to the gifted sunflower at the center. He walked up to it, put his palm on its branches, looked up, and then looked down.

"My wife has told me that fighting between plants is the most dangerous, and that the slightest mismatch is death. In this way, you are a winning general, and you are a winner. ”

He withdrew his right hand, claws stretched out, and slowly cut a deep scar at his left wrist, blood as crystal clear as a liquid ruby falling from his wrist and seeping into the soil. An Yangjun watched as the roots of the sunflower rushed up fiercely, devouring all the blood, so the corners of his mouth hooked a faint arc, revealing a gentle smile.

"Well, I'll be happy to help you out. ”