"Does anyone want matches? a box of three cents—" The little girl's voice was faint, because it was too cold. His long eyelashes were covered with ice slag, and his big eyes looked at the passers-by, how he wished that someone would bow his head and say, "I want a box of matches."

Qiu Fengyang sighed, even in a peaceful era, there are people who are hungry and cold, this poor girl is afraid that she won't even be able to sell a box of matches tonight, now every family with a little money will use the spiritual magic lantern, and who will use inefficient matches?

As a swordsman, Qiu Fengyang's eyesight is very good, and from a distance of more than ten meters, he can clearly see that the little girl's hands and face are covered with bloody chilblains, and her shoes are probably soaked by the waterfront. Her long black hair was draped over her shoulders, and she had a simple hairpin on top of her head, which was supposed to be given to her by her mother.

Qiu Fengyang clenched the streamer in his hand, and stood in the darkness and watched the little girl sitting in the snow under the light. All he had to do was put on his white hat and walk past her as if nothing had happened, into the Seventh Hotel, and the day's journey was over. He knew that this was Maple Leaf Harbor, a place where the coalition forces gathered, and a place where masters gathered, and every superfluous act could reveal his identity in advance, and he didn't want to get into too much trouble before taking revenge, and turning a blind eye like a stranger was the best choice. But he was a swordsman, and more than ten years of licking blood from the tip of the knife had given him a deep understanding of death, and he knew that if this little girl stayed in the snow all the time, her voice would get quieter and quieter, and then freeze to death here.

Passers-by looked down, as if the little girl was like air. She sat in the light to make it easier for others to look at her, Qiu Fengyang thought so, such a young child still has to come out to sell matches, the family must be very difficult. Looking at her lost appearance, she must have not sold a single box of matches. She took out a box of matches, lit them quietly, and there was a fleeting warmth in the cold night, a beautiful smile like a flower bloomed on her frozen face, and her hands trembled, and the match fell into the snow accidentally. She sighed, lit a match again, looked at the faint fading candlelight in a daze, hid under the spiritual lamp and let passers-by pass her, leaving two lines of tears on her innocent face.

"Hello, are you selling matches?" asked Qiu Fengyang.

The little girl raised her head blankly, looking at the autumn wind in front of her in a white cotton jacket, she didn't know where this handsome brother came from, how he came to her in an instant.

Indeed, Qiu Feng Yang did not come over, and of course he did not use spiritual arts, but with a small step, he teleported here from a distance of more than ten meters, which was not a difficult task for Qiu Feng Jianhao.

He squatted down, looked at the little girl's big watery eyes, and asked gently, "Little sister, are you selling matches?"

The little girl nodded dumbly, probably because it was too cold for her to speak, and she waited here for a night Qiu Fengyang was her first customer.

Qiu Fengyang pulled up the messy long black hair in the little girl's ear, revealing a smile that he had never shown in ten years, "Little sister, how much is a box of matches?"

The little girl blinked, and finally knew that this was not a dream, and that someone had really come to buy her matches, so she hurriedly took out a box of the few dry matches from the big pocket beside her, and said tremblingly: "Big-big brother, a box of matches-three cents, may I ask how many boxes do you want to buy?"

Qiu Fengyang took out fifty yuan from his arms, handed it to the little girl, pointed to the big bag of matches and said, "I want all these matches." ”

The little girl's eyes widened, that kind of complicated eyes were not what she should have at that age, bitterness, joy and excitement, what else? Qiu Fengyang smiled, and the black streamer of the years in the palm of his left hand seemed to be looking at herself, like the warm sun in the autumn wind melting the ice and snow of this world.

But the little girl did not take Qiu Fengyang's fifty yuan bill, and after complicated joy, she lowered her head and said very shyly: "I'm sorry, big brother, this pack of matches is only seven hundred boxes, only twenty-one yuan, I have no change to find you—and—a lot of matches are already soaked—" With tears in her eyes, she didn't expect that the sudden business seemed to be about to ruin like this.

Qiu Fengyang touched her head, stuffed the money in her hand, and comforted: "Big brother, I am an artist, soaked matches can be used to make works of art, which is priceless to me, I am really lucky to be able to buy so many soaked matches for fifty yuan." Qiu Fengyang took out a big bill of one hundred yuan, the little girl couldn't believe her eyes, and covered her mouth with her hands, she had never used such a big bill in her life.

Qiu Fengyang explained: "I have been observing you there for a long time, although no one has come to buy your matches, but you have never given up, these soaked matches have your dedication and persistence, which makes these matches more valuable, so I plan to pay another hundred yuan, I don't know if you are willing to sell these matches to me, little sister?"

The little girl took the one hundred and fifty yuan in Qiu Fengyang's hand with trembling hands, burst into tears with gratitude, and said in a hoarse voice: "Yes, I am willing." ”

Although she didn't know why the brother with the sword wanted to spend one hundred and fifty yuan to buy his own matches, she could see that Qiu Fengyang really wanted to buy this big bag of matches. What kind of concept is 150 yuan for her? A box of matches costs three cents, and if she wants to earn 150 yuan, she has to sell 5,000 boxes of matches. So she hurriedly turned around, carefully knotted the large bag of matches, and handed it to Qiu Fengyang. Because she had not moved for a long time, the chilblains on her hands broke several times, but she was strong enough to endure the severe pain, and a happy smile appeared on her face, and her head was covered with thick snow and looked like a little snowman from a distance.

The passers-by just glanced at Qiu Fengyang and the little girl, shrugged their shoulders and left silently.

Qiu Fengyang took the match, helped the little girl pat the snow off her head, and knelt in the snow to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes: "Little sister, why are you crying?

The little girl wiped away her tears and said strongly: "Big brother, you are the first person to buy my matches, they all say that my matches are worthless, even if they give them for nothing, they don't want it." Thank you so much—"

Qiu Fengyang asked in a low voice, "With this one hundred and fifty yuan, what are you going to do next?"

The little girl sobbed excitedly, her knees were already red from the cold, and said hopefully: "The cost price of a box of matches is a penny, and with my brother's one hundred and fifty yuan, I plan to buy more matches." The little girl seemed to hesitate a little at this point, "But-"

"But what?" asked Qiu Fengyang.

"I don't think anyone will buy my matches—" said the little girl, "and now everyone uses psychic magic to keep the lamp open, and matches are outdated." ”

Qiu Fengyang held her little hand, which was covered with all kinds of cold and frostbite sores, and wore a single dress on a cold winter night in December, which was in stark contrast to the children who passed by the roadside wearing cotton jackets and holding the warm palms of their parents.

"What about your family, why did you come out to sell matches?"

The little girl lowered her head and said hesitantly, "My mother died very early, and my father was also seriously ill, so the family's income can only be supported by me buying small things. I would do some needlework during the day and find a way to earn money at night. Now that the cold winter of December has arrived, I thought everyone would buy matches, but I didn't expect that not a single box could be sold-"

"Isn't it sold now?"

The little girl nodded effortlessly, "That way I can go home early today." ”

Qiu Fengyang patted her little brain and said: "Don't sell matches next time, if you have the opportunity, sell the magic lantern, people won't buy matches now." ”

"Okay. The little girl put one hundred and fifty yuan in her pocket, tilted her head and said, "Big brother, you should be a swordsman." ”

Qiu Fengyang was silent for a moment, and found that the little girl's gaze had been staring at the pitch-black streamer of her left hand, "I used to be a swordsman, but now I'm not." ”

The little girl looked at the shining black scabbard and said, "I seem to have seen this sword somewhere, I have a sister, her name is Bai Meiluo, if she is here now, she should be as old as your brother." ”

Qiu Fengyang frowned, stood up suddenly, and clenched the streamer with his left hand. When the snow blooms and the plum blossoms fall, people remember the autumn wind and sun of the sword hero of the tree country, but no one remembers that there was a sword madness and white plum falling. In the battle of the Holy Helmet Valley, he was forced to a dead end by Gu Monro, and the moment he was devoured by the sword of judgment, Bai Mei fell to his death. In the cold winter of December, the snow was falling, and the autumn wind and sun stood still under the pine trees, and the snow covered his long golden hair.

"Bai Meiluo is my half-sister, she left when she was very young, and she roamed all directions with a pitch-black sword on her back, never to return. The little girl smiled, "I've never met this sister, but I know she's a swordsman, just like you, brother." ”

Qiu Fengyang's eyes were a little moist, I don't know if it was tears or the snow after the ice and snow melted, "She is a top swordsman, if she is still alive, she must be a first-class master." ”

The little girl pointed to the gray cotton cloth wrapped in the gray cotton cloth on Qiu Fengyang's back and asked, "Big brother, are you also carrying a sword on your back?"

"yes, and a sword on my back. ”

"If it's a sword, why wrap it?"

Qiu Fengyang said patiently: "It is precisely because it is a sword that I have to wrap it, the sword is too sharp to hurt others and hurt myself." "The scene in the Valley of the Holy Helmet ten years ago is vivid, and it was not the magic armor that pierced Bai Meiluo's body, but the white sword of judgment in his hand. Even though Qiu Fengyang had been able to fully control the Sword of Judgment for many years, he had never let it unsheath.