"This dress is very familiar. Old Brother Zhang stared at this dazzling red with unblinking eyes, and he really couldn't remember where he had seen it.

"This is what I wore when you first saw me. Qingyue gently smoothed the folds on her clothes. Some places were already in tatters, and she used the strength of many embroiderers to sew them up little by little.

The pleats are not due to the passage of many years and not being properly cared for. It is the mark left by the rapid fall of the year.

"You ......" struggled for a long time, and Qing Yue only said one word.

Old Brother Zhang had already guessed what she was going to say, and the tacit understanding of so many years was not in vain: "I don't regret it, not now, if there is a future, it will not be in the future." "Unfortunately, there is no future.

So he didn't care, and said no words.

"Good, good. Seeing this, Qingyue only squeezed out a few words from between her teeth.

"The time has come, the execution. "A token has been thrown from the torture table.

Qing Yue's ears were filled with the only sound of the token landing. Before she could move her feet, someone would immediately expel her from here.

"You, take care of yourself. Qingyue turned to leave. This blush finally disappeared in the rain.

Old Brother Zhang slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the moment when the cold blade touched his skin, although he was terrified, he couldn't escape.

It seems that the slight cool wind and the blood swelled, leaving only a trace of blood on the ground.

As for the mayfly, it doesn't belong to the human race. Mortal swords were useless to him, and there was nothing he could do but lock him up in prison and watch his life slowly come to an end.

The sky was rainy and clear, and the dark clouds had not yet receded, and it seemed that there was gradually a scene of obscuration. Emperor Tang understood that this was probably the last tranquility before the storm.

At that time, the country will not be the country. All hope can only be pinned on the man of destiny. When he was young, he followed the emperor to fight, and when his life was at stake, although he had to be protected by his generals, his years of experience made him firmly believe that my life was up to me.

This time, this rock-solid belief that is enough to support him through the battlefield and withstand the undercurrent of the DPRK and China is really about to have a crack.

The damp dungeon was mixed with a foul stench, the rancid stench of festering flesh. The mayfly man clenched his nose and struggled to free himself from the guards.

But without the help of fire, he was no different from ordinary people in the world, and he was firmly grabbed by the shoulders of several guards and slammed into the hay-paved ground.

Before the man could react, the silent prison was left with only the cold echo of a string of keys colliding back and forth. Hearing the cold wind in the cracks of the human bones, the scalp that was close to the brain was swollen a lot.

The man cowered in the corner, staring blankly at something. This kind of damp and gloomy is not unfamiliar to him, and it can even be said that it is very familiar.

Born on the water's edge mixed with silt, isn't this the most common way for all insects in the world to be born! He really envied human beings and wanted to get out of this kind of life. However, God played a big joke on him, and he went around and around, empty of human shells, but it was as if he had returned to the past.

Outside the cage, there were only a few cell bosses drinking and punching, "Drink!" The rugged heroism unique to the northerners actually broke the lifeless breath of the cage.

Not to be particularly depressed, the man asked, "Why is this prison so deserted?"

Naturally, he was not talking about a jailer, but someone who had committed the same crime as he was. He didn't believe it, although Chang'an was prosperous, everyone was a clean blank slate.

"What a monster!" Several people talked about the identity of the riding man.

The man's eyes darkened, and he knew that they had never been looked down upon by humans. After all, it's just a monster after all.

"When the autumn wind arrives and the white dew falls, it's time to ask. "An older jailer didn't keep talking about the man's life experience.

"Say less. He drank the remaining few people, and seeing that he still couldn't extinguish the fire in their hearts, he simply poured an extra bowl of wine and raised it high: "Drink!"

Several people's heads immediately came together, and the endless chatter finally stopped.

"You're still too young. The older jailer suddenly dropped these words, and began to drink on his own. Too young, young and vigorous, even if it is higher than the demon's background.

"Ouch......" he sighed.

The rest of the people were a little drunk, their faces were red, and they began to talk nonsense: "This broken wine, you still taste it one bite at a time, what kind of taste can you taste." ”

During the whole process, the man stood quietly aside, coldly watching several people go from awake to slightly drunk, and then to fall asleep on the table.

He slowly moved back from the cell door to the corner and squatted. At the edge of the table outside the cell door, the keys hanging from the waists of several people faintly emitted an alluring light.

The man closed his eyes, what if he could get it, not to mention whether he could escape the pursuit of Datang, even if he could escape, the world was so big, there was no fire, no capital, what could he do to continue his life.

In the dream, only a piece of light surrounded each other and went away, and then returned to Yanshan. It keeps repeating, as if it never meant to stop.

There was a faint bitterness in the man's heart, which was the nature of mayflies. There is only one dream in life, and that is when you come to the end of your life.

Is it God's favor to die in a dream and be spared a lot of suffering? He didn't know, and he didn't want to know.

"Would you rather?" a voice sounded in a low voice.

Based on his intuition, the man felt that this must be the impermanence of the underworld to detain his soul, so he blurted out almost without thinking: "I don't want to, I don't want to." ”

Dreams are often a portrayal of the real world in the heart, and in the damp and mossy corner, the man suddenly shouts loudly: "I don't want to!"

There was no answer in the cell, except for a few jailers, who scratched their cheeks a few times and fell back into a deep slumber in their sleep, not knowing if they were annoyed by the noise.

The cold wind crept in through the cracks in the wall, causing the man huddled in the corner to shiver and wake up suddenly.

He quickly patted his cheek, this warmth, still there. "I'm not dead?" he narrowed, what was the dream just now?

In less than a moment of life and death, mayflies will never have dreams. However, he is still in a prison cell!

"Why didn't you die?" he couldn't figure out, and couldn't react to anything except muttering to himself.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to?" The voice was still there, and it turned out that it was not just a dream.

The man leaned against the wall and slowly straightened up, for some reason, he seemed to be afraid of the voice. This voice, which has the ability to shuttle between dreams and reality, makes him very uneasy, as if his life is only in one night, and how long this night is, depends entirely on him.