Yuan Ruolan couldn't believe it, what she saw from her sleepy eyes was not the milky white cabin roof but Song Youchen, and what she heard in her ears was not the whistling wind or rumbling thunder, but a dull male voice with a Shanghai accent. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

"What are the characteristics of the circulation of money regulated by the monetary system? Advance, turnover and value-added ......"

Well? Currency? Finance?

She jerked to her feet and found herself lying on the desk in the lecture hall, a puddle of water on her cuffs that seemed to be drooling from her sleep. She sat in the penultimate row, densely packed with people in front of her, and the old Mediterranean man on the stage stretched out his finger and pointed to the PPT, spitting about the constituent elements of finance. There were those in the audience who listened carefully, and there were those who yawned; There are those who fall asleep, and there are those who play cards in groups of four; There are whispered chats, and there are also fingers that quickly reply to WeChat, which is clearly the most common scene in college classrooms. The phone shook twice in the hole in the table, and she took it out to see that it was her roommate asking what to eat at noon, and the time showed 10:55, and there were still 5 minutes before the end of class.

[I'm in class with Youchen, and I'll be with him later, do you want to come? ] 】

There was almost no hesitation, her fingers tapping on the keyboard.

[Heavy color and light friends! ] Don't go! At the end of the words, Big S's most classic white eyes were added.

She smiled indifferently, stabbed Song Youchen, and showed him the phone. The other party put down the textbook and took the phone, and there was another tap, and then handed it back to her. She almost burst out laughing at the words on the screen.

[Girlfriends are like siblings, and boyfriends are like clothes. Don't be naked, go find a piece of clothing, otherwise how can you go out? Reading between the lines is her usual style.

"Yes, yes, it's really my true biography."

"It's the master who teaches him well."

"Hahaha."

The melodious piano music sounded, announcing the end of the morning's lessons, and the conversation between the two ended, following the crowd into the noise, rubbing shoulders in the corridor. He leaned sideways to protect her and slowly walked out of Building 3. As soon as they got out of the gate, the crowd immediately scattered in all directions like opening the floodgates, running east and west.

On the way to the cafeteria, you will pass by the tennis court and the basketball court, and although the sun is shining, it does not diminish the enthusiasm of everyone to show off their youth here. They walked hand in hand along the boulevard, sometimes talking about a boy who was standing out, or sighing at the beautiful girl watching the game. During this period, it is inevitable that there will be times when each other is jealous and laughing, which is really a good hand to show affection and feed dog food.

She sat in the booth of the cafeteria on the second floor and waited for Song Youchen, bored, and suddenly jumped out of her mind the terrible and incomparably real "dream" in the finance class. In the "dream", she encountered a plane crash, and when everyone panicked and fled more and more chaotic, she used her superpowers to turn the tide and save everyone.

It must have been the Avengers who saw too much and was poisoned by the heroism of US imperialism to be like this. Onmyoji? How could there be such a mysterious thing in the world?

She threw off the whimsical fantasies in her mind and redevoted herself to the daily routine of complaining about meals with Song Youchen. The person in front of him laughed, there was a dimple on the right side of his mouth, the smell of laundry detergent came from the clean white shirt, and the neat short hair showed the spirit that a teenager of this age should have.

She raised her hand to wipe the rice from the corner of his mouth, and the shyness of the other party scratching his head and scratching his ears was really tired of looking at it. She drank the sour plum juice from her glass, her eyes fixed on him and refused to look away. Suddenly, an unfamiliar face flashed in front of her eyes at an inopportune time, and because it was so fast, she only remembered the purple eyes that were different from ordinary people.

That night, she woke up from a dream in the middle of the night.

I had the same "dream" in one day, how can it be so much like a classic scene in a horror movie. She climbed out of bed, drank a large glass of water, and looked up to see the standing mirror by the cabinet. In the mirror, she was covered in sweat, and dozens of soaked hairs on her forehead were tufted together, and the oil was so shiny that it looked like she hadn't washed it for a few days, which was very embarrassing. The purple eyes in the dream are the same as the flashes in the noon cafeteria, they should belong to the same person, who is it?

Time moves forward little by little at its own pace. At three o'clock in the morning, only the computer screen was still glowing in the dark dormitory, and the keyboard crackled, waking up the girl in the bunk next to her.

"Ruolan, why haven't you slept yet?"

"Oh, that, I suddenly remembered that the PPT to be used in Director Ding's class tomorrow has not been done yet, so get up and drive the night train."

"Okay, then you make a little noise, the keyboard is about to be smashed by you."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry."

"Forget it, come on, I'll sleep."

"Okay." She watched the long series of conversations in front of the screen and leaned back in her chair in despair.

Twenty minutes ago, nightmares had disrupted her sleep for the third time, and this time it was clearer and more real than the previous two, and even the pain of the electricity cutting through her skin was as if it were there. She couldn't sleep anymore, so she simply turned on the computer and searched for all kinds of entries of "ghost press", "ghost upper body" and "nightmares", but unfortunately most of them did not match the situation she encountered, and the posts sent out in the post bar only got a lot of unreliable replies.

In the end, she reported the idea of giving it a try, and she would "Has anyone ever heard of Onmyoji?" ". Unexpectedly, a second later, I received a reply signed "Spirit Magic Realm". TA affirmed the existence of the Yin and Yang Realm, and even told her the sect structure in it, although she saw the names of Wan Gu Gate, Phantom Sect, Yunxiao Pavilion, and Wuyuan Fang for the first time, she was extremely familiar, just like when she saw the Phantom Sect, words such as soul power and main soul popped out of her mind, and these "Spirit and Demon Realm" were not mentioned.

In the ensuing conversation between the two parties, she tentatively asked about the Phantom Sect, and TA's answer was bizarrely in line with what she was thinking. The thought that suddenly popped into her head made her sweat coldly, and her hands trembled and she typed a sentence:

Are you a human or a ghost? 】

If TA's answer is a ghost, everything has an explanation, if it is a human ...... She didn't know how to deal with it.

[Neither.] 】

[Don't fool me!] If you're not a human or a ghost, then who have I been talking to?! 】

The other party played his cards out of common sense, which completely angered her.

[I was born from you, I exist above the boundary between humans and ghosts, and I really do not belong to any party. For the sake of you and me, let's make a multiple-choice question, do you want to know the truth, or do you just want to live here? 】

Without thinking about it, she typed the word "truth" into the reply box, but when she clicked send, her fingers froze and stopped above the mouse. Fear enveloped her, she was like a larva in a chrysalis ready to burst its shell, and the unknown was far more terrible than death. The evening breeze blew in through the crack in the door, and the fresh air washed the turbidity, as if to remind her a little. She pressed her finger downwards and pressed it hard, and after a long time, she slowly let go, and a new reply appeared on the screen.

[I choose the truth.] 】

If the butterfly does not choose to break out of the chrysalis, it will never know the beauty of the world, nor will it be able to obtain the surprise of metamorphosis. Living in a chrysalis may be a good choice, but shrinking into that little world and telling yourself that "the world is like this" is undoubtedly self-defeating, and some choices are actually not a choice in the first place.