He sat on the stone bench and waited quietly for her to come. Even though he was young, even if that person always liked to pinch his face and smile dotingly, saying that his facial features were not open, and his heart was old. He was not angry, he was not happy, but he carved the man's face into his eyes.

* The purple flowers in the garden are delicate and swaying, and the air is filled with the fragrance of flowers, and the fragrance of flowers is intoxicating. A gentle breeze blew, blowing the shadows of the flowers into the shadows.

Quietly, someone walked over lightly and stepped on the dead leaves that had fallen from the flower plant, the sound was not loud, and the sound was crisp, and he heard it clearly. There was an extra shadow on the ground, a familiar shadow, even if it was a shadow, he could tell that it was her, the one who had been buried in his heart. He smiled, with a smile on the corner of his mouth, watching the shadow get closer and closer to him, but pretending not to know.

The man took a step forward, a cool hand covering his eyes. It was pitch black in front of him, but his heart was as clear as a mirror. There was still a smile on his lips, and the man who laughed was childish, but he was happy.

"Guess who I am?" The nice sound is deliberately made very rough, familiar and warm.

He raised his hand to his eyes, and under his hand was the back of the man's slightly cool hand. "Mother." There was a smile in his voice.

Yue pouted, as if he was a little disappointed, and let go of his hand, his eyes were bright. "Every time." Yue muttered quietly, "It's obviously a child, but he was born with this character, it's just the same character as his father." ”

Every word that Yue said was in his ears, and he didn't refute it, just smiled.

After Yue finished speaking, she seemed to be angry, and then happily jumped in front of him, holding his face and carefully caring for it in her hands. "Chen'er will turn fifteen today, what gift does Chen'er want? Do you want your mother to cook for you and cook you a table of what you like? Do you want Exotic Soup? Do you want to blame the goose peas? ”

He stared at Tsuki's young face tightly, and Tsuki's smile was warm, like a small stove burning in his chest. The moon ordered the recipe in front of him, listing all the things he usually likes to eat, and the moon also had a smile in his eyes, as if it was really a waning moon hanging in the middle of the night, the sun shone into the moon's eyes, flashing glass-like brilliance, making him obsessed with it, unable to extricate himself.

There is him in the eyes of the moon.

He raised his head, smiled slyly, and with a hook of his arm, the man was embraced by him, and the temperature was the same as before, slightly cool,

Yue didn't struggle, but was taken aback by his sudden movements, and then smiled and wrapped around him.

A warm breeze and the flowers in the garden collided, and it seemed that the crisp music could be heard. Under the sun, the two hugged each other tightly, as if they were passing each other's temperature. The shadows of the earth are also dissolved, inseparable and inseparable.

Dreams are always so changeable, a while ago, the moon was still in his arms, and in the blink of an eye, the heavens and the earth changed, and it was completely different.

The moon was smiling at him, but after a while he stopped smiling again, and fell to the ground lifelessly. He suddenly felt as if his heart had been stripped open and his chest was bloodily taken out, his chest was empty, really empty, there was nothing left.

He saw that she was covered in blood and lying on the ground in embarrassment, she was dying, she still took care of the person, she said, Chen'er, find him, find your father, I have something to say to him. Breath like a gossamer.

She thought of him, she thought of that person, but what was that person doing? That person was saving people, saving those who flayed her alive, and saving those who hurt her. He can't even save his beloved, and that person still has the heart to save others.

As soon as she finished speaking, her body slowly became transparent, and something came out of her body and flew into the blood-stained sky. He reached out eagerly to grab it, eagerly, scared. When he stretched out his hand, he saw that it was a hand of quicksand, and they all rushed to flow away from his hand.

She just disappeared, and the man hadn't come yet.

He began to laugh out loud, as if only a maniacal laugh could fill the hole in his heart. He laughed and fell to the ground.

The April sky began to dance with something snow-white, cold and cold, like his body. The man had smiled and reached out to catch the white things and watch the snow-white crystals melt in his hand. She told him that these white things were snowflakes, the brains of the sky falling.

He also reached out to catch it, his numb hand could not feel the coldness of the snowflakes, and the snowflakes in his hands did not melt. He just looked at it like he was going to the end of the earth.

You say that snow is the brainchild of the sky, so is this April snow a pity for you?

Everywhere you look, there is a snow-white, boundless white. The snowflakes buried him, and he closed his eyes.

I heard that there were no tears in their people, and that the heavens had given them great power while also depriving them of some rights. The most ordinary things of mortals are precisely the hardest things for them to obtain. Legend has it that only when they are in great pain do they see something coming out of their eyes, a liquid as bright red as blood. I have also heard that the liquid is a drop of blood in my heart.

That day, a drop of blood slipped from the corner of his eye, dripping into the snow, dyeing the white snowflakes bright red, and slowly fading away, like a flower blooming in the snow, delicate.

Since that day, the tone of this place has not stopped for a day. After that day, where she turned into smoke, a flower quietly grew, a red flower, as if watered with blood, fiery red and gorgeous.

The dream was shattered here, and he woke up, his forehead covered with fine beads of sweat. His sleeping position has not changed for thousands of years, what position he is before going to bed, and what position he is still when he wakes up. He touched his side, and it was cold.

From that day on, he dreamed of her every day, naughty her, gentle her, and finally quiet her. Dreams are always exactly the same, exactly the same people, exactly the same thing, it has never changed in three hundred years, he just lost her over and over again, watching her turn into smoke and sand in the sun, over and over again, he also endured it again and again, and such days have passed for three hundred years.

When I woke up, I couldn't sleep, and when I closed my eyes, I saw that her black pupils were darker than the ink on the table. In her black eyes, he saw himself smiling, too.

Sleepless ......