Inside the peach blossom ring.

Qianwan stood under the peach tree, moved her fingertips slightly, scooped a spoonful of spiritual spring water and poured it in the teapot, then gently shook the cold tea, leaned on the side of the rattan chair, and let the crimson dress hang on the ground.

On the branches of the peach tree, the lush green leaves are darker.

Under the lush green leaves, there seem to be a few bud buds hidden, but the appearance is too small to see.

Qianwan's eyes were cold, and she poured a cup of tea.

When the tea is put into the porcelain cup, it rolls in the boiling water, and the curly leaves are stretched, and the rich tea fragrance is everywhere, thick, but it becomes bitter.

"Yue Lao, how is this tea?"

The slender fingers pinched the teacup, and the tone was cold.

Yue Lao slowly closed the book of life, and the five flavors in his heart were mixed, [Shenji, this tea is a little bitter. 】

Qianwan took a sip, frowned with a little disgust, and said coldly, "Rotten tea." ”

Yue Lao sighed, it was still the cloud and mist silver needle that he was happy before, but he was soaked bitterly, I am afraid that it is the bitterness of Shen Ji's heart, [Shen Ji, but it depends on the mortal later? 】

Qianwan lowered her long eyelashes slightly, and said coldly, "Let it go." ”

Yue Lao put the image on the peach blossom mirror, and saw that on the floating water mirror, it was a luxurious and gorgeous wedding room, a huge room, and a bright red set could be seen everywhere.

The candle flame is faint, the curtain tent is slightly hooked, and the gilded porcelain bottle by the screen is inserted with delicate begonias.

A man in a bright red wedding dress stood by the window, taking advantage of the joy, poured a few pots of plum wine, and his jade-like skin was dyed red, and his slightly drunk appearance was even more charming.

The white fox nestled lazily at his feet, moving his head from time to time, looking intimate.

"It would be nice if Ah Wan stuck to me like you."

The handsome man put the wine bottle on the eaves of the window, his eyes turned up, with a sultry charm, "Ah Wan will be back today, right." ”

The door creaked, with a slightly oppressive atmosphere.

The black-robed man walked in, stood by the door from a distance, and said with his fists clenched, "Master, Ling Wushang is back." ”

Qin Xuan seemed to have come back to his senses, and his expression became vivid in an instant, "What about Ah Wan?" ”

Rakshasa did not make a sound.

The man in the green shirt slowly pushed the door in, Qingjun's posture did not decrease, but with a sense of tiredness, he took a bottle of prepared medicine from his sleeve and came out, "This is the freshly prepared snow muscle cream." ”

"Where's Ah Wan?"

Qin Xuan didn't stretch out his hand to take it, and asked again.

Ling Wushang seemed to be a little out of spirit, so he only responded very lightly, "...... She didn't reply. ”

"Why?"

It's not that it's just the last time to look for medicine, but I should also go to Lingyin Temple after the year, but ......

What about her?

"The terrain of the snow-capped mountains is treacherous, and the snow lotus of tens of thousands of years only blooms on the top of the ice.

"The first time, she had a disorder of internal breathing and breathed for half a month. The second time, her muscles and veins were broken, and she couldn't use the Flower Shadow Sword Technique. This time......"

Ling Wusheng's lips pursed together and paused, "She can't get out of the snow mountain." ”

Qin Xuan muttered to himself, "Are you deceiving me...... Ah Wan only said that he would return after half a month, and said that he would follow me back to the temple to visit the master...... How could it be...... I'm not coming back......"

"The swordsman who followed her into the foothills of the Snow Mountain took back the snow lotus and returned her sword."

Rakshasa took a hemp-gray coarse cloth package from behind him, only to see the exposed half of the scabbard, Qin Xuan's pupils were dilated, his eyes were stiff, and he trembled and held the sword in his arms.

The word flower shadow on the scabbard seemed to be covered with a layer of gray, and the luster was dimmed.

No more of the previous ethereal timelessness.

"Master."

Seeing that he was not in good spirits, Rakshasa suddenly remembered the day in Jinyancheng many years ago, in the pouring rain, the arrogant red figure.

It's like that.

It's bone-chilling.