If Scone didn't dare to open his eyes, he was afraid of the miserable body that kept coming to his mind. Every piece of skin and every piece of flesh of his body was covered with black and red bloodstains, and it was constantly corroded wherever he passed, and there was no good land anywhere, and everywhere there was a mixture of flesh and blood.

His originally fair skin could now clearly see the veins that were blue to black, beating slowly with his thin heart. No one can prove that he is still alive and clear, and no one can prove that he is dead.

Pain has become a luxury, and his handsome cheeks have become distorted because of the pain that he has not been able to relieve for a long time, as if a good painting has been cut through it, leaving only indelible scars. He is now like a piece of moldy raw meat, just constantly attracting flies to buzz and persuade himself to die early and be born sooner.

Is he alive?

He is better than dead!

A bunch of useless dog doctors!

Another hot Chinese medicine was poured into Si Kangruo's mouth again, but as the jade bowl was shattered, everyone was greeted with the same heartbreak. He couldn't shout anymore, every unformed word was laboriously spelled out, and the rain outside was still arrogant, maybe it was the tears that death shed for him.

The guard in the corner moved neatly, picking up the doctor who was about to climb and dragging him out. He had been kneeling for three days and three nights, his knees colliding with the broken rocks one after another, they were all innocent victims, and they could only have a vigorous parting in such a bloody way.

Life, here is the least valuable.

The doctor had covered his mouth and nose with a dirty cloth beforehand, which disturbed the nobles present. He was dragged out the back door like a waste dog, and he didn't even have a chance to call for help. Heavy rain tried its best to cooperate with this inhumane show, it did not refuse, trampled on this corpse violently, and played a requiem for them like a saint to express comfort.

It was completely erased, just in a thought.

It's not fair.

But there is no fairness in Jinzhou.

Du Siqi swallowed a large mouthful of herbal tea without knowing the taste, but it couldn't suppress the stuffiness that spread from his chest. The lips and teeth were bitterly weakened by the tea leaves, and even the inhaled air became heavy. A round arch, where can it block life and death?

"It hurts, it hurts...."

The voice became smaller and smaller, and she subconsciously tightened the agate Yingluo she had just bought on her neck, and every time she felt pain, she pinched it tightly. The brown agate had faintly cracked, and the area around the gold collar had begun to blacken. The room was suddenly unusually noisy, and the voices from all sides were as muffled as the sky, making people breathless. The torrential rain showed no signs of stopping, and they became the invisible abusers of the city.

"It hurts...."

Du Siqi's heart hung in unison, Si Kangruo was already angry, and he couldn't even pass through an arch with his voice, but the warbler hummed a few out of tune, and the dry tone was like a pipa with broken strings, and it was no longer the language of the world.

The hand that stretched out alone outside the bed curtain also slowly hung down, it was full of large and small blood holes, the skin and flesh turned out, revealing the black epidermis inside, he slammed to the side of the bed stalk, the blood bag was hit on the head and blooded, and half of the floor tiles were dyed red.

The doctor on the side panicked, rolled his eyes continuously, and foamed at the mouth, he began to talk to himself, and he rolled and crawled directly into the pillar next to him, and died on the spot.

"I am a savior, I am a savior, not a murderer...."

With a bang...', the agate collar was broken in half and fell to the ground, becoming a sacrifice for the souls of the dead present for no reason. Du Siqi hurriedly got up, her heartbeat gradually sprang faster, and she attacked the thin body for a while.

She found that the scenery in front of her began to distort, her brain became blank, and her ears were filled with continuous cries, roars, and all kinds of noisy sounds, which made her even more dizzy, and she couldn't tell the difference between east and west. She made up her mind to go to her son's side and accompany him in death.

She struggled to get one foot away, but she almost tripped over the slender skirt, and she didn't care about anything else, she pulled a heavy piece of jewelry to the ground, and ran to the inner room with difficulty.

The broken jade is a mother's tears.

Mama Wang is a calm person, she reacted immediately, wrapped her arms around her wife's slender waist like a weak willow and a wind, wrapped her hands tightly around the straps on her waist skirt, and knelt straight in front of her.

She only heard the sound of cracking, she looked down, and found that she was pressed against her wife's jewelry, and hurriedly moved back again, but the floor tiles also followed her steps, drawing blood marks without concealment.

But she didn't feel it, she just dragged the person in front of her, even if the green tendons pinched by her hands wrinkled, she didn't let go. She is getting old, and the people around her are going wave after wave, and what she can keep is less and less. Now that the young master has died, many doctors are not well, and the people in the house are in a mess, if something goes wrong with the lady at this time, then she can really only die to blame.

"Madam, the young master has his own doctor, you can't also suffer."

"He is my son, and when he hurts, he will die together, and when he dies, he will die together."

"Madame can't have an accident, this is what the master ordered the slave maid. If Madame insists on this, then I can only ... I'm sorry! ”

Mama Wang stood up against the wall, her steps trembling in front of the arch, her somewhat bloated body was trembling, and there was a little blood on the side of her trousers. She looked up suddenly, her wrinkled eyes filled with tears.

She turned her head, her hands clutching the beams of the arch, her dirty nails sinking into the cracks of the bamboo, carving a mark that was neither deep nor shallow. Her legs began to hurt, as if the organs in her body were no longer able to function, and perhaps her body began to have the most basic resistance to danger.

But she couldn't.

Her life, to put it bluntly, is worthless.

Mama Wang held on to the edge of the door, bent down awkwardly, and waved her hand into the guard who was bowing her head to block the rain at the door.

"Come here, don't let Madame go any further, Madame's safety is your safety. Young Master Scone's condition, it's up to me to see it! ”

She let go of the hand she had been holding her wife, and the warmth vanished in an instant.

"Aunt Wang.... No, no! ”

Mama Wang pulled out the silk handkerchief from the cuffs, turned it into a small roll to cover her mouth and nose, and walked forward without looking back.

The guards hurriedly stopped Du Siqi and drew a dividing line with their long knives. It's just this difference that the memories of twenty years come flooding back to me.

She's old.

In the hallway, he leaned against a stone bench and listened to the sound of rain falling on the eaves. The bluestone eaves withstood most of the torrential rain, and the bricks and tiles used this life to pretend to be beautiful in the world. They are scarred, just to repay the appreciation that they were able to use in the first place.

He picked up a bamboo leaf and whistled easily.

The music is beautiful, and it is a cheerful brothel tune. Once, this was also a pleasant scenery in Sikang Mansion. He ignored the half-pillar tall corpse, and even laughed and made an out-of-tune limerick poem for the rotting flower. In the entire mansion, only his laughter can be heard now, mixed with blood, pushing people's hearts to continue to fall.

"I said the famous Fan Lang, really don't show your hand? Otherwise, if you lose your breath, then you will work so hard in vain....."

"Of course you have to show me, you have given me a chance, how can I miss it?"

Fan Qi sat opposite him, and was sticking needles into various acupoints on his body. Iron needles as thin as silver threads continued to fall on all corners of his body like the rain outside the house, and occasionally he ran out of place, choking him to bleed at once.

But Fan Qi still carried the light on his back, again and again, and kept dropping the needle.

His front was full of stolen medicinal residues from the grass, and the burnt herbs mixed with the earth, emitting a strange sweet smell, like an unknown poison, hanging between the thought of saving people and killing people.

The herbs and the earth hugged each other tightly, and neither of them could recover what they had in the past, except for the broken body, which once again returned to its original heart.

When there is no way out, keep returning to the original point.

Fan Qi tasted the dregs without being dirty at all, and there was no expression on his face from beginning to end. He was mummy, and concentrated, chewing the mushy unknown object in his hand little by little, and his mouth was no longer tasteless, but his heart was more urgent than anyone else.

"Fan Lang, this is mixed with human blood, aren't you afraid?"

"Tut-tut, Fan Lang, it's really, no, serve, lose."

In the blink of an eye, he quietly stepped on the bamboo leaf, lying leisurely next to Fan Qi's shoulder, his hands stroked down the row of needles and stopped in front of his chest.

He slanted at his pure eyes, and slowly took in the whole night, leaving a burst of emptiness swirling around Fan Qi's side, which made people feel cold.

He paused.

He almost gritted his teeth and choked off the stones carried by the root of the herb in his mouth.

"I can't, things, things, as you like."

He shook off his restless hand, but felt the vial of the diaphragm in his arms. Fan Qi shrugged his nose, he faintly felt a strong medicinal fragrance rushing to his head, this may be the key to everything.

Fan Qi's lips began to tremble, contorting along with his entire face. He couldn't stop being excited, his whole body was uncontrollable, and the numb heart seemed to have found its way, fluttering and just wanting to disperse.

He hurriedly straightened his hand, but his right arm suddenly lost control, the medicine bottle fell through the gap, and the world suddenly became weightless again, and began to squeeze him again. Fan Qi only felt that his heart had fallen along with the medicine bottle, and his chest was so empty that he couldn't breathe.

He didn't have time to think about it, and the whole person fell to the ground, leaning forward, his legs were weak and slashed like a figure-eight, and his body was pricked by needles and lost his emergency response, so he could only fall down in a daze. He stubbornly caught the porcelain vase that was almost shattered with his teeth, and also followed the direction of the wind, his jaw brushed against the ground, a hot burning sensation forced him to shed tears, snot and saliva on his originally delicate face, mixed with dirt, it was an indescribable embarrassment.

He bit the cork so hard that his teeth sank in.

Fan Qi clearly knew that he was like the original again, his cheeks were pressed against the floor tiles, feeling the temperature of different people's footprints. He tried to clench his fist, release it again, clench it again, release it again .... This constant repetition, stubbornness, extreme naivety, forcing oneself to stand up.

He can't fall.

Never again!

"Oh, Fan Lang, why did you still fall?"

"Oh, I feel distressed when I look at it, do you want me to help you?"

He squatted in front of Fan Qi, tilting his head and frowning, looking full of worry for him. Fan Qi could only be so embarrassed, skimming his gaze at him. The rain outside the house was still laughing at him, and the gentleness of the earth was unwilling to give him half a point. There are some things that you can only earn yourself.

Fan Qi's arm shook imperceptibly, but it calmed down. He knew that behind this person's smiling words, there was a trace of truth. Where is the person he knew now?

He said that he was dead then.

It's not that he's changed, it's that the world has changed.

The young man has grown up as a young man, and the sea has become a mulberry field.

He looked at Fan Qi at his feet and snorted softly. This invisible contempt, as well as the charity that does not distinguish between true and false, who is playing with whom. Fan Qi clenched his fists again, only this time, he was able to stagger and rampage, and he stood up on his own.

It was as if he had just learned to walk. Step by step, step by step, he moved towards Si Cono's room.

"Your Highness Yi, not everything you can decide for me. I can do it myself, I can ...... it myself."

Fan Qi pushed him away, retracted his body as if he was afraid, turned to another direction and walked slowly, his back was full of dust from footprints, dotted like a fake poem, but it skillfully said the life of this person.

He squeezed the vial, rubbing his fingers against each other, alternating to make sure it was still sitting in the palm of his hand. He had already found the antidote just by that smell, he had found it, only he could find it, only he could.......

Fast! Fast! Fast!

As long as he crosses that threshold, he will be able to make his own decisions in the future of his life!

Fan Qi almost ran away, he couldn't figure out the direction, and it was always dark in front of him. Only this time it was different, the heavy rain could no longer stop the newborn sun, and the sky was divided in half, black and white, and there was a beam of light guiding him impartially.

Run forward!

Run forward!

Run forward!

Yi Sheng looked at Fan Qi's crazy back, and time stretched the distance between them for a long, long time. The narrow bamboo platform corridor was only willing to take him in, and the rain in front of him suddenly became lighter, perhaps before this scene was staged, God already knew his end. Even though he wanted to use this heavy rain to delay his sadness, as soon as the play began, there was no reason to stop.

There are some roads that can only be walked by one person.

Yi Sheng wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes, he didn't like these catharsis for no reason. Teardrops wrapped in front of his eyes, causing the world to be thrown into chaos. He began to see clearly, and could only rely on vague thoughts, looking at the stubborn steps, and his legs unconsciously followed.

In an instant, it was as if looking back on the past.

He walked with her on the unknown bustling night road, laughing and greeting the candy man at the vendor's cloth table, deliberately stepping only on the edge of the cracked stone bricks, the wind blowing the butterfly hairpins and jingling bells, and the full moon bending, it was God who blessed them.

They walked aimlessly, laughing and saying nothing.

The lights of the night market are on quickly, and people are like pieces of paper pulled out of the night, walking towards them in a steady stream. Everyone carries a bright and clear paper lamp in their hands, and the almost transparent paper is painted with different patterns, taking advantage of the fiery candle inside, it is attracting a pair of infatuated men and women who are not going well in the world, like moths dancing.

You say, you want one too, just to keep warm.

It's just that I haven't seen it clearly, I haven't seen the dazzling paper lamps beside me, I haven't found the money bag hidden in my chest, I haven't noticed that the moon is slowly sinking, it's just a blink of an eye, just a moment, as soon as I raise my eyes, you are gone.

You don't want paper lights, you want to go.

You lied to me.

I was like this, flustered, pushing away the crowd with both hands, and running forward without obeying the call. There were people everywhere, and I couldn't hide from them. If I can't find you, I'm like crazy, and without the moonlight, it's even harder for me to make out where you're going, and the crowd is surging, pushing me back hard, hard.

Then I saw you again.

You are at the door of a handicraft workshop, quietly staring at a glass lamp at hand. The white glass is painted with molten slurry in advance, and white beads and jade strings fall under the lamp body, and the lamp surface rotates back and forth when the wind blows, staging a picture of a good horse to a successful life.

But you can't reach it.

It's like I can't touch you.

I stretched out my hand, my legs were unsteady, and the crowd pushed me forward again, and the bustling Yangguan Road did not allow you and me to be in place, and I saw myself swinging my arms wildly, but I knocked over the lamp that was about to rise between us.

Shards of glass pierce your hands, and you cradle the shattered pattern to your chest. Blood begins to stain your dress, the crowd scatters, paper lanterns are discarded on the ground, love is trampled on and it is not worth mentioning, they are furious, they want to destroy the people they love in the world.

But I can't find you.

Obviously, just now, you were still standing in front of me alive, with tears in your eyes and words in your mouth.

"I thought that this lamp was the most suitable for my little seven."

You didn't lie to me, I did it wrong.

You don't go....

Don't you go.....

"Xiao An, don't go, please, don't leave me......"

He stopped, and watched as the night market was swallowed into the black ruins, from people to objects, dissipating little by little, slowly swirling in the air until it disappeared. He was the only one left, and he was a spectator in this dream.

Yi Sheng's palms tightened, and when he raised his eyes, it was Fan Qi's figure that had stopped.

Outside, the heavy rain had subsided at some point, and the sun was shining on the earth, and a wave of vitality began to spread everywhere. It withstood the ravages of the torrential rain, and naturally announced with its head held high that spring had arrived.

The trees were thick, the flowers were still there, the dirt was crowded, and the streets slowly resounded with the shouting of horse-drawn carriages, and in just one night, the heart was full of joy again.

But the end of life is not death, but forgetting.