The sky was overcast, the wind blew obliquely, and the occasional rain fell down.

He Zichen walked on the path between the dove trees, wondering what in his heart, and raised his eyes at random.

Sheng Ling stood alone under the dove tree not far away, raised his head slightly, and looked at a white dove tree in front of him with an indifferent expression. His hair is jet black, pouring down like ink, commensurate with a white dress, and from a distance it looks like a landscape painting with a sparse artistic conception.

Maybe it's a distance that isn't far away, maybe it's a long time without communication, it's obviously a very familiar person, but at this time it seems to be the first time I've seen it, some of the beauty of estrangement, and the feeling of brightness.

He Zichen's heartbeat was inexplicably faster.

"Your Majesty."

He Zichen couldn't help but walk over, and Sheng Ling turned his head and saw him bowing slightly. At this time, it was already past the time to practice the closed mouth meditation, and Sheng Ling could finally speak.

Sheng Ling's voice is very good, like a cold spring in a mountain stream, clean and slightly cool.

It's a pity that He Zichen has very few opportunities to hear, if it weren't for a big event, Sheng Ling would not have any communication with him, and a greeting like this was just a cold and alienated "Your Majesty".

He Zichen frowned slightly, and felt a little unhappy in his heart, he always felt that this title was a bit harsh, whether it was the previous "He Zichen", "Zichen", or the later "Chenchen", which was much better than such an alienated title.

Chenchen?

Thinking like this, He Zichen had some doubts in his heart, did Sheng Ling call him that? Why did he think that?

This kind of doubt lasted for a moment and then didn't go deeper, He Zichen walked in front of Sheng Ling, slowly stretched out his hand, and took down a piece of fallen flowers from Sheng Ling's black hair, with a smile on the corner of his mouth, "Master Guoshi, what a coincidence!" ”

He put the dove flower in his hand under his nose, sniffed the fragrance of the grass and trees, and always felt that it seemed to be stained with ink, and he couldn't help but think of a study, a book of poems, and a petal between the yellowed pages......

He Zichen suddenly remembered! I remembered the poem on that page!

It is a living folk love song, describing the throbbing and apprehensive mood of two lovers who love each other, but do not tell each other.

[Yi people are there, the leaves are rampant, they are sleepy and think, the carriage and horses come, the red line, the bundle of green silk, and the son into a contract, a hundred years. ]

In the first half of the day, the man saw his sweetheart under the tree, and he didn't dare to come forward to talk, but he dreamed of marrying him in his heart, and from then on, he wanted to make peace. The second half is a woman's answer, telling her hope to grow old with her lover and her determination to be loyal to love.

[I don't see the cunning child, my heart is leisurely, provocative, why don't I ask, bright and bright, white and bright, a hundred years later, return to the right.] ]

He Zichen's smile froze, and he couldn't figure it out for a while.

This was the first time he was tempted by Sheng Ling, and he went back to sandwich the tung blossom in his hand between the pages of the book, and felt that the poem described was particularly suitable for his mood...... But isn't he standing here? Sheng Ling was also in front of him, his eyes were gentle and detached, why did he feel that something seemed wrong?

"I know you resent me, hate me, and want me to die......" When He Zichen was out of his mind, something seemed to have changed around him, and before he could pay attention, he heard a very familiar voice, and his spiritual power rang in his ears, "Maybe I really can't help you, but the others are innocent, you shouldn't use their lives to vent the resentment in your heart......"

This is Bai Feng's voice.

The more I heard this, the more familiar I became, when the monsters attacked the Star Picking Tower, Bai Feng seemed to have said such a thing, and finally blew himself up and died in front of everyone.

He Zichen's heart tightened, and he hurriedly raised his head, at this moment, a large amount of demonic energy suddenly filled the surroundings, thousands of monsters surrounded the Star Picking Tower, the sound of swords, the spiritual light flashed, countless white clothes flew up, and everyone in the Star Picking Tower was fighting bloodily.

Only He Zichen and Sheng Ling in front of him were clearly standing here, but they seemed to stay out of the matter, unaffected in the slightest.

Bai Feng stood in the air on the eaves of the Star Picking Tower, his hair was messy, his white clothes were stained with blood, and he had never been embarrassed, but his peerless demeanor was not reduced by half of the embarrassment at this time.

His eyes were calm, still as sympathetic as usual, but there was a certain indescribable determination.

He Zichen had a bad premonition, and sure enough, he heard Bai Feng say next: "...... If my death can remove the resentment from your heart, then why should I spare this life? If that's all there is to it, then ......"

"You...... Let's stop it! ”

A large area of black demonic qi surged towards Bai Feng like a whirlpool, and countless low-level demons were also sucked in with a sharp scream, and Bai Feng was soon wrapped in black demonic qi, like a thick cocoon.

The monsters that had been absorbed by the unknown force struggled to escape, but they were bound tighter and tighter. A trace of silver-blue spiritual power gradually revealed in the cocoon formed by the heavy demonic qi, like cracks in the eggshell, the black cocoon gradually disintegrated, and the silver-blue light became more and more abundant, and finally burst open like fireworks, stabbing everyone's eyes.

"Holy Lord!!"

"No—"

The survivors of the Star Picking Tower wept bitterly, and those monsters wondered if they were frightened by such an act of dying together, and the attack eased down a lot.

He Zichen froze in place, his heart ached sullenly, but he was powerless to stop it, and he knew that he couldn't stop it, Bai Feng died, which had happened a few years ago.

And now, he's just in a near-real dream.

"Holy Son, come with me! Come on! ”

He Zichen turned his head when he heard the sound.

Seventeen-year-old Sheng Ling looked at the top of the Star Picking Tower, his eyes widened, and his tears couldn't stop flowing, and the two disciples of the Star Picking Building grabbed him and didn't let him go forward.

Sheng Ling's mouth opened silently, and He Zichen could see that the shape of his lips was "Master", but even the most sorrowful cry at this time he couldn't pronounce it, but instead spit out a mouthful of blood because he forcibly broke the ban.

He Zichen felt a pain in his heart, and he couldn't care about the doubtful Sheng Ling in front of him, and ran towards that Sheng Ling instead.

Even if it's just a dream, even if it's just a dream, he can't stand Sheng Ling's appearance!

Dreams are always unreasonable, and there is obviously not much distance between the two, but it took He Zichen a long time to run to Sheng Ling's side.

"Shengling, Shengling, don't cry!" He Zichen raised his hand to wipe the tears from Sheng Ling's face, but his hand passed through Sheng Ling's face.

Saint Ling stretched out his hand towards the silver-blue light that had not yet dissipated, as if he wanted to grasp a wisp of the remnant soul of the master.

He Zichen wanted to hold Sheng Ling's hand, but he grabbed it again, and couldn't help muttering, "What's going on?" ”

He knew it was a dream, but how could everything in front of him feel like another dream within a dream?

Countless tiny dots of light rose from around them, flying towards the canopy of the sky that had become dark at some point.

He Zichen raised his head, looked at the direction where those points of light were flying, and suddenly understood something.

He summoned the flying sword and chased it towards the place, "Who's making trouble?!" ”

He Zichen opened his eyes while lying among the flowers, and his hand was pinching the neck of a little girl in colorful clothes, and there were many similar little girls flying around him, chirping for him to let go of their companions.

If you look closely, these are ordinary little girls, and they are not wearing colorful clothes, but a pair of colorful wings, and they also have two slender tentacles on their heads - this is clearly a butterfly!

"You...... Let go of me, we have no ...... of malice," the little butterfly who was choked by him said with difficulty.

He Zichen sat up, slowly let go of his hand, and hesitated: "Flower elf? ”

The butterfly girl took a few breaths, nodded, and said softly: "We are from the Dream Eater Clan, and we have lived among the flowers for generations, which is what you said...... Flower Elf. ”

"Dream Eaters?" He Zichen chewed on these words, and said with some surprise, "Feed on dreams? So what happened to us is all your fault? ”

"Yes." Butterfly Girl nodded, and shook her head quickly, "No, no, no! Although we feed on dreams, we don't do any harm to the dreamer itself...... You're just dreaming a few things, no, it's okay, right? ”

"That's right, we just ate a few dreams, and they never hurt anyone, and that dream is not what we told you to do, it's a dream woven for you by the fragrance of flowers here."

Another flower elf flapped its wings and flew to He Zichen's side, the little tentacles trembled, the big eyes gurgled, and flattered: "No one has come in here for a long time, and we haven't eaten such a delicious dream for a long time, thank you so much!" ”

He Zichen resisted the urge to touch his head and smiled: "Is our dream delicious?" What does it taste like? ”

"Your dreams are the best, they taste everything, sour, sweet, sweet and sour,......" the elf pointed to Sheng Ling, who had not woken up yet, and said, "The taste of his dreams is relatively monotonous, all bitter." ”

He Zichen's heart trembled, he glanced at Shengling, and then told him about the things in the previous dream, and asked, "What's going on?" Most of my dreams are memories, how can they suddenly be so chaotic and unable to touch the people in my dreams? ”

"Because your dreams have collided!" The elf's tentacles turned a few times, and affirmed, "You must be very close people, and only the dreams of intimate people will merge together." ”

He Zichen nodded, with a subtle pride in his heart, and he looked at Sheng Ling softly. The light spots on Sheng Ling's body became less and darker little by little, her eyelashes trembled, and she slowly opened her eyes.

Sheng Ling first turned his head to look at He Zichen, and when he saw that he was still there, he breathed a sigh of relief, and then looked at these little creatures flying around, and quickly understood what was going on. He had heard of the Flower Elves, and some of the people who successfully left after straying into the Flower Rooms also benefited from the help of the Flower Elves, but he didn't expect that he would also be lucky enough to meet them.

He Zichen stretched out his hand to comb Sheng Ling's hair, and asked gently, "What did you dream about?" ”

Sheng Ling's silver-white eyelashes were dyed with starlight, there was a different style, he grabbed He Zichen's hand, held it, and smiled with relief: "It's just some old things...... What about you, what did you dream about? ”

"Me? Me...... I dreamed of you. He Zichen looked at him with sincere and affectionate eyes.

He didn't lie, he had many dreams, big and small, and there was a shadow of Sheng Ling in every scene.

When he woke up and saw Sheng Ling in front of him, he suddenly remembered that when his love was the most difficult to suppress, he recited the poem over and over again, "Bright and bright", pretending to hold Sheng Ling's hand carelessly, and silently prayed in his heart: Holding the hand of the son, may we be white-headed together.

He Zichen looked at the silver hair that glowed with faint brilliance under the starlight of Saint Ling, and sighed in his heart.

In this life, we can't be white-headed together. 166 Reading Network