Thousands of mountains and angry snow, what do they have to do with me?

Probably accustomed to similar answers, there is no difference in the expression of the person who asked the question.

"There seems to be some movement over there in Qianyan, shouldn't you do it?"

So, he asked another question.

Precious jade is like a mirror, this is a palace composed of countless bright jade, empty and clear.

The owner of this hall sits on the edge of a pond, looking at the spring flowers and autumn moon in the water, and the rivers and mountains.

This is a vibrant landscape, full of life, snow-capped, with children and grandchildren, and mourning. This is his country, this is the scenery in his eyes.

Everything he sees will become true, and his mind will turn the world upside down.

Turning your hands over for clouds and raining hands? That's just a delusional ambition that only children like. For him, everything in the world makes him feel boring, tasteless, and bland, like tea that has been boiled a hundred times.

It's boring, it's really boring.

It was because of the boredom that he became more and more indifferent.

His name was recited by the people, where he was, and his legends were sung.

He is the god of the North.

He is a noble person who is revered in the hearts of countless people.

He is the shrine that the whole family of Baksu longed for.

He is a person who looks at the thousands of mountains and angry snow and thinks that this world is too boring.

He's Rouran.

Rouran has lived too long.

He couldn't count how many times he was in reincarnation.

Seventy-seven pieces of scattered beings, the price of eternal life. It is the pain of the soul being torn apart.

Scatter all beings. This kind of name sounds nice to say, but in fact, it only tears a person's soul into seventy-seven parts. and threw it down at will, just waiting for it to re-condense in the long years.

It is a long and tedious process, and in addition to the painful search, there is more of a physical pain.

The soul is torn apart, and no one will be happy.

Even if it's soft.

Fortunately, he has a good group of men. After each scattering, there would be pious men who would search for all the pieces for him, piece by piece. Take it back to the temple.

This hall is called Kunlun, because this hall is located in Kunlun.

The top of Kunlun Mountain, there is no place to look, and it is soft.

Soft. This is perhaps the softest name in the world. But it belongs to a man who stands on top of the world.

"It's cold in the heights."

Somehow, Rou Ran suddenly remembered this sentence and recited it gently.

There was no sigh in his voice. It's more like a simple recitation, indifferent and chilling.

"Lord?"

The subordinate who was standing under his hand did not understand what Rouran meant, and frowned slightly.

Rou Ran shook her head slightly, and her voice was cold and clear, with the majesty of a proud being in a low voice: "Don't worry about her." For so many years. I finally met someone who was slightly more interesting. ”

"Whoa!" The subordinate hurriedly agreed, and said. "The person in Mobei before has been brought back, and you are ...... Lord"

Rouran hooked her fingers, and the person who came already understood, turned around and nodded at the waiter outside.

After a while, an old man dressed as a herdsman was helped in.

The closer he got to Rouran, the more obvious the tremor in the old man's body became.

He stared at Rouran's body sitting on the edge of the pool, although the fairy-like figure was facing away from him, the old man was already sluggish, and even his mind was no longer bright.

The old man saw the palace made of tens of millions of bright jade, saw the owner of the palace sitting by the pool coldly, and saw that all the light blue halos could not set off the charm of the palace master, although it was only facing back, it was enough for everyone to bow down.

The old man could no longer walk, his whole body was paralyzed, and he could only be dragged forward by two people on the jade ground.

The closer he got to Rouran, the more the old man could feel that excitement in his body.

That's real excitement, and it's not just a formative word.

Having lived to be seventy-eight years old, the old man had never experienced such a feeling.

The blood on his body seemed to be boiling, bubbling, tumbling and shaking.

The bones seemed to be stirring, colliding with each other from front to back, left and right, so that even he could hear the sound of bones colliding and fighting with each other.

The internal organs began to tremble and twist irregularly, as if they wanted to break free from their original comfort.

The old man felt as if he was about to explode.

As he approached the master of the palace, this feeling became stronger and stronger, until at a certain moment, there was a soft snap, and the old man felt that one of his ribs had been broken after all.

After a sound, it was two, three, four, five, the old man felt that he was using his body to set off firecrackers, I heard that it was a kind of thing of the Southern Barbarians, and it was a crackling sound when it was lit, which was very festive.

Now, the old man's body began to make the sound of firecrackers, and instead of feeling pain, he seemed to have some fun.

It's funny.

Thinking like this, the old man laughed silently.

The smile was like a gunshot while running, and countless blood vessels burst open at the same time.

The towing continued, so the two side-by-side blood stains left dust on Mingyu's ground.

It doesn't matter, it's just dust.

Someone had already noticed the situation here, and they stepped forward with expressionless faces, waved their sleeves, and brushed away all the mortal dust.

The towing finally stopped, and the old man was gently lowered to the ground, already dying.

His eyes were still fixed on the back, and there was a faint excitement in his eyes.

He knew he was going to die.

He knew that what would burst in the next moment would be his heart.

But he was not nervous, but a little excited, a little yearning.

"I'm soft." The old man spoke in a hoarse voice, silently.

Although it was silent, Rouran had already heard it.

Rouran looked at a pool of autumn water, looked at the thousands of turbid worlds, and felt very boring.

So he Shi Shiran stood up, and the others hurriedly bowed.

God is God, and when God stands, no one can stand at the same time.

Rouran turned around and looked at the old man at the soles of his feet with his eyes slightly down. Didn't bow your head.

Where is the mortal man worthy of his bowing head?

"I'm soft!" The old man opened his mouth, but still did not make a sound. But the gaze gradually exuded fanaticism.

Rou Ran is very familiar with this kind of fanaticism, so she still finds it boring.

With a slight movement of his mind, the old man was already lifted up by an invisible force and stood in front of him.

"Your generation is ordinary, self-transformed into me, and the rivers and mountains have been around for thousands of years. With honor. Will you sacrifice your fathers? Rouran looked at the old man indifferently.

The old man was already fanatical, and his eyes were red.

The bones on his body were shattered, and his veins had burst. The flesh and blood kept flowing downward, and on the jade ground, a strange and beautiful picture was conjured.

Rouran looked at the old man's fanatical worship of himself, still as cold as a god.

For thousands of years. This is true for everyone.

Thereupon. Rouran still found it very boring.

It's really boring.

So he stretched out his hand, gently reached into the old man's chest, and dug out the unusually crazy heart that had not yet burst, but was beating.

The heart is connected to the blood vessels, and when the body is dug out, a lot of things are involved, so she gently exerts force, as if she is afraid of hurting the other party. The means are unusually gentle.

The blood vessels were torn off one by one, making one sticky and popping sound after another. It's like a symphony of life.

The old man watched his heart being slowly gouged out, but he didn't feel the slightest fear. He was even a little moved, moved by the gentleness of her movements, like a mother's hand, snatching his life and giving him eternal life.

The old man was so moved that he burst into tears.

But the tears soon stopped, because of a soft pop, the old man's two eyeballs burst open.

After all, the heart is detached, and everything else, bones, muscles, internal organs, everything, is like a withered flower, slowly bursting and flowing down.

All the flesh and blood were scattered on the ground, magnificent and beautiful, forming a magnificent picture on the beautiful jade ground.

The flesh spread to the soles of Rouran's feet, and he felt the familiar breath, and finally took a deep breath of satisfaction.

The heart in his hand was still beating violently, and it seemed to be more intense than before.

Rouran looked at the heart in her hand, felt her seventy-seventh soul, and sighed with satisfaction.

The mind moved slightly, the heart finally burst open, and the wisp of soul hidden in it finally returned to its owner.

Of the seventy-seven scattered beings, the fifty-third was recovered.

"Congratulations, Lord!"

The attendants knelt down to congratulate them, and their expressions were still indifferent.

With the return of the fifty-third piece, the pain in his body that seemed to never stop was finally a little better.

But all this, for him, is still boring.

How many other interesting things are there in the world for the gods?

Thinking about it, she sat back down and looked at a pool of autumn water.

There is only one thing......

He suddenly remembered Jiankang City, thousands of miles away, where the fluctuation of the breath could be felt even from such a distance.

Because that breath is his own breath.

Less than a thousand years old, there are people who can exude their own breath with one-seventy-seventh of their soul.

This incident seems to be the only interesting thing in the past 100 years.

Thinking like this, Rou Ran felt that many things were better than nothing.

It's better than nothing.

His mind moved slightly, and a pool of autumn water changed color again.

From light blue, it changed to light red, and slowly, I realized that it was the color of maple leaves.

The maple leaves are all the wind chimes, the wind chimes are hung under the eaves, and there is a plaque on the eaves, on which are written three big characters - Qingfeng Pavilion.

Rouran thought to herself, this name seems to be somewhat familiar.

There were people chatting in the pavilion, one was a young man in a wheelchair, the other was a sacrificer with a part of his soul on him.

As for what the two of them were talking about, Rouran was not interested.

So he looked at the wind chimes on that side and became slightly distracted.

Behind him, the attendants began to quietly pack up the flesh and blood stumps on the ground, a beautiful abstract painting, in such a setting, slowly, from all directions to the middle.

Only jade lasts forever, crystal clear, and never withers. (To be continued......)