(Continued from previous chapter)

When you die, close your eyes, put your hands down, and smile sweetly. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info might make him angry.

But how can you close your eyes? The light in front of you, though an unrealistic fantasy in pitch darkness, is better than a suffocating darkness. The hand can't be put down no matter what, even if the mind understands that people can't grasp the light, but deep down they don't understand.

Bing Qingcheng heard a voice, which seemed to be whispering to the Grim Reaper who surrounded her. But the sound is heavier and louder than words.

The stone slab above his head suddenly opened a small crack. A ray of light flowed down. The light was not very bright, because the church was built in the catacomb, and the light that shone in was diffuse.

But as the gap between the slate widened, Bing Qingcheng finally realized that he was in tears.

"Are you still alive?" Minf's impatient tone sounded overhead.

"Alive." Bing Qingcheng replied.

Minfer turned his head and said something to the others around him, "Get her up." Anyway, the exhausted Bing Qingcheng couldn't hear clearly, she closed her eyes and fell into a semi-comatose state.

In fact, Mingfu didn't want to release Bing Qingcheng, he has always treated the enemy as cold as winter, even if the other party is a cute little girl.

It was the offspring of that damn old thing that didn't obey him, but betrayed him and bit him. No matter how cute she is, it's useless, she will definitely avenge her grandfather in the future, so let's kill it, that old thing died too easily, just let this lovely offspring replace him, die painfully and slowly.

So when the whole body was washed with water, the pale and bloodless ice blue orange was fixed on the operating table, and the body was wrapped in layers of white cloth, only the wound on the lungs was exposed. Minver picked up his scalpel and placed it on the drawing cutting line.

Doing surgery is a hobby, and in his spare time he taught himself human anatomy and is interested in cutting around living people who have no anesthetics to do.

But Mingfu, and to his own surprise, hesitated.

The girl had dark and soft curly hair and black desperate eyes. That's right, she had always had desperate eyes, and she had always been desperate when she saw him open the patio. Even with a strong desire to survive in despair, her outstretched hand stretched straight, as if to grasp the ethereal light.

Another feminine face jumped out, and Mingfu pressed his temples with a cracked headache in rage and trembling. It's taboo and definitely don't think about it. Absolutely, absolutely, it is better to die than to recall the face of that person.

"Nine Nights." Mingfu smoothed his distorted and hideous face, took a deep breath, and after calming down, commanded in the same tone as usual, "Go and call our surgeon in." ”

That's it for this time, right? If I want to use her, I will cure her first. Anyway, in any of that assassination, she would have been tortured to death by her target.

Bing Qingcheng was dreaming, and she dreamed that two people were arguing.

One person shouted: "I swear, the personal will is enough to hold fate by the throat." ”

Not to be outdone, another said: "What can you do if you hold it?" Let me tell you, Beethoven's destiny was to become Beethoven, and his destiny was to remain a great musician even after being deaf. Overcoming fate is just an illusion, it's just fooling the tragic people and making them struggle a little longer. ”

"You have no proof." The first one continued to yell, "You're making excuses. The fate you weave is a plate of loose sand, and as soon as you stop repairing, you will go astray. ”

"Impossible." The second retorted: "The fate of my weaving is logical and alive, and it will never deviate. And you didn't study in school, right? Isn't it me the founding god of Naka on Earth? ”

"I don't care, let's say first, none of us can interfere." The first said.

"This is originally my world, you dare to meddle?"

"I'm talking about you."

The two men walked away in a row, but Bing Qingcheng felt like he was floating on a cloud and walking on a path again.

She was about six years old and was going to meet a mysterious prophet in secret. It is said that everything that this prophet says will come true, and Bing Qingcheng is eager to know what kind of person she will become in the future.

In a large room, she struggled to peel through the black veil that hung from the high ceiling to the floor. I don't know how many layers I used to cut through the body that was six years younger than now, and finally saw the prophet sitting in the center.

"Young scoundrel, why are you here?" Wrapped in layers of black fabric, the prophet wore a strange top hat and spoke in a hollow and inconspicuous voice.

"Hey, I'm a princess, although I'm not a princess, but I'm also a princess of the Ice Sea Country." The young princess corrected.

"Princess—have you ever looked your eyes squarely, and those dark pupils hide a terrible tyranny. You are the Lord of original sin, born with a thirst for blood and killing, which cannot be redeemed and cannot be redeemed. The prophet pointed to the icy orange from afar, unquestionable.

"But I'm ...... Am I going to be horrible? The young Bing Qingcheng suddenly forgot why he was so stubborn to find the prophet.

"Your soul is pitch black, why do you want to be a holy angel. It's too mild, don't you think? Bing Qingcheng, you don't like to be a lady quietly in the court, you don't have a stable fate, light and flowers never belong to you, your destiny is bumpy and bumpy, but don't be afraid, listen to your inner voice, you will become strong. The hem of the prophet's garment rubbed against the floor as if it were empty.

The prophet pointed a finger wrapped in layers on the heart of Bing Qingcheng, and his eyes through the black gauze looked at Bing Qingcheng faintly, infinitely bewitched.

"Listen to your inner voice!"

Ice Blue Orange woke up violently!

There is a soft and warm wind, and the sun shines on the white and soft curtains, bringing a fresh smell of the wilderness.

The wound was still painful, but it was a cool ache, and the sluggish and rotting flesh was still cleaned away, stitched with needles and threads, coated with some kind of white powder, and wrapped in white gauze.

She was moved by an incredible astonishment that she was able to return to the world from hell.

"You're awake, come and drink saliva?"

Not far from her, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl stood up from the small round table stacked with fabrics, smiled at Bing Qingcheng, smiled like a bright spring light, quickly poured a glass of water from the jug, and put a ceramic cup in Bing Qingcheng's palm.