"Sir is thoughtful and knowledgeable, and every sentence has a profound meaning, and his understanding of cultivation is unique and unmatched. Cultivation is even more ancient, and he is definitely one of the few extreme peak masters today. How could you take a fancy to such a barren and deserted place in my "Great Wilderness Mountain", I'm afraid there is something else!" The woman in red looked at Ah Lang with a smile.

"The girl is really forgetful! As I have just said, life is like a play, every scene is wonderful, full of all kinds of fun, all I have to do is to devote myself wholeheartedly to it, play every role well, and keep the original intention of the eternal heart in my heart" Ah Lang also looked at the woman in red with a smile.

"Okay, let's not talk darkly, the true identity of this girl is, Yu Jingting, the daughter of the Demon Realm Emperor Yu Manlou, dare to ask who Mr. is?"

After listening to the words of the woman in red, Ah Lang hurriedly bowed deeply and said: "The little one doesn't know that Her Royal Highness the princess has arrived, and the crime deserves ten thousand deaths. I am the ancient power "Gollum Great Immortal", a disciple of the closed door, and the invincible Guan Haishan is also. After finishing speaking, Zhengse looked at Yu Jingting.

The princess of the demon world, Yu Jingting, after listening to Ah Lang's words, was stunned for a moment, then lowered her head, frowned slightly, and thought hard: "Gollum Great Immortal"? Why hasn't this princess heard of it? Although I have rarely come into contact with the monks of the human world, I have been under the careful teaching of my father since I was a child, and I have read all kinds of ancient and modern poems and books, and cultivated them into classics. Neither the father nor the book mentioned it, such a number one person? Could it be that it is an ancient power, or is there something missing from the book?

Yu Jingting, the princess of the demon world, stopped in the night sky and pondered there......

Ah Lang saw Yu Jingting's stunned expression, and knew that he had fooled her for the time being, so he immediately struck while the iron was hot, and said righteously: "Your Royal Highness Princess, maybe you have never heard of my master's name, he is an old man, he has been alone since he was a child, and he has gone through countless hardships and tribulations to be able to transcend the sainthood, shatter the void, and enter another space. Because he is not good at words and has less contact with others, there are very few people in the monastic world who know about him. The little one only happened to go to the old man's house, and in the former residence of the Haoyan Continent, he learned some of the remnants of his old man's family that survived in the world, so he had today's end-of-the-line tricks. After speaking, he bowed to the princess of the demon world, Yu Jingting, again.

Yu Jingting, the princess of the demon world, immediately looked carefully, up and down, looking at Ah Lang......

After a long time, he looked at Ah Lang and said slowly: "This girl, why do you always feel that you are playing nonsense and teasing me." ”

Ah Lang immediately said: "Jade Princess, this is a bad word, the small one is also a loose cultivation, often remember the master's teachings, and always remember the heart: keep food for the mouse, and pity the moth without lighting the lamp." Sweeping the floor is afraid of hurting the lives of mole ants, and cherishing moths and gauze lamps. Cherish and care for all living species, so far, the small one has never killed a single person, and has harmed a living individual. ”

"I can warn you in advance, if you dare to deceive and deceive this girl, I will kill you if I find out!" Yu Jingting, the princess of the demon world, still looked at Ah Lang Dao suspiciously.

"Jade Princess, please relax, the small two shoulders only carry a head, I will never dare to deceive you, there is only one life, which is more important, this small one can still be weighed clearly!" After Ah Lang finished speaking, he looked like a dignified and upright gentleman, and bowed to the princess of the demon world, Yu Jingting.

The more polite and polite Ah Lang is, the more the princess of the demon world, Yu Jingting, looks at Ah Lang's hair, and always feels that this thing looks like a wolf with ambition and bad intentions. But is there any real evidence, and I secretly said in my heart: I have to ask the number book, where did I find such a person, the stomach is full of economy, rich and rich, and his cultivation is also extremely clever, but the more I talk to him, the more I think this product is trying to be bad?

Suddenly a drizzle fell in the silent night sky, and a little fog rose around it, as if to cover the glittering moonlight and the bright stars.

Ah Lang stood in the void with his back hand, staring at the full moon and stars, letting the drizzle fall on his body for a long time

Not a word.

Yu Jingting, the princess of the demon world, suddenly felt that Ah Lang, who was close at hand, seemed to disappear into the misty night sky with the drizzle. I felt that his figure had become hazy and illusory, so unreal, but he was really standing in front of him, but it just looked very lonely and lonely......

There is a kind of fate called love at first sight, there is a kind of love called once had, there is an ending called fate, and there is a kind of heartache called endless. In everyone's heart, there is an untouchable love. Searching for fragments in thoughts, deep and shallow in confusion. Aimlessly reminiscing about grief.

When love is a thing of the past, how much courage it takes to never forget it. Some people and some things are not something that they can't forget, but their hearts are reluctant to forget. An encounter is not imperfect, but the ending is reluctant affection.

It is said that it is better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes, but who can do it so freely? How can the unforgettable heart be deliberately forgotten? How can the happy past be easily erased?

If you are destined to see each other, don't be easy to separate, if you sincerely cherish each other, don't bear to abandon each other, and if you are determined to love each other, you must die unswervingly. But leaving and ending or continuing, is the drama of life that is constantly staged, the people around you come and go, some things are destined to leave, some things are destined to not stay, some people are destined not to belong to themselves, perhaps, in your heart, the most secret place, some dusty past, and a person who never wants to mention, you have forgotten it inadvertently, you will always use such a sentence to comfort that time, you say that many people and many things, just when we always think that we will never forget, quietly forget, but some love wants to withdraw more and more, but the clearer it is, the more some people want to forget, but the more they want to forget, but the more they are in their hearts。

Love is like this, it is always confusing, happiness is not easy, it is always searching, sweetness is not simple, it always makes the heart sink. A gentle look from the other party makes the heart palpitate, and from then on love ripples, and the last sentence of parting destroys all the beauty, and from then on the intestines are painful breaths. If you love, you know that you are actually very fragile, and if you have been in pain, you will know how to protect yourself, and if you have cried, you will know what it feels like to have heartache. If you are stupid, you will know that you can persist and give up at the right time. In fact, life does not need these meaningless attachments, the sincerity that belongs to you is unswerving, and the beauty that does not belong to you will eventually be lost, and the beauty that once lingered can only be a memory.

Some fate, too much attention will eventually be lost, some people, give up or not give up are unforgettable, some love, thoughts and not to turn away from separation. Fate is like this, gradually drifting apart, or getting together or parting. Love, sometimes it hurts. The pain of the body is incomplete, the heart is barren everywhere, the terrible thing is that the nostalgia does not close, the burning loneliness grows wildly, the sadness of memories fills the empty heart, and the crumpled thoughts are nowhere to hide. It is solidification, it is the broken intestines, it is the soul that has nowhere to rest.

So what's the vigor of love, comfort yourself, you can forget, you can be brave. Love yourself well, improve yourself, be a person worthy of love, and let the rest take its course.

Yu Jingting, the princess of the Demon Realm, listened to Ah Lang's words talking to himself there, and she also looked up at the night sky and the rain, thinking a lot, and couldn't help but whisper......

The green tent of the palm lamp, the strings are like water. Lightly twisted on the fingers of the flying flowers, Zimo red dust rippled slightly. If you want to be frantic and crazy, spinning mountains and dyeing clothes in the night rain. Under the moon, who is wearing makeup.

The orchid fragrance is full of paintings, and the long hair is condensed, and a thousand people are sad. Yaoqin was in love until the cool strings were broken, drunk with the breeze, and frowned. Lonely sycamore several degrees of autumn, fragrant clothes, fog lock heavy building. A line of geese has a few rejuvenation, cut and cut acacia, and the intestines are soft.

Qingzhi skirt is shallow in spring, ten miles of light dill, fragrant and soft. Under the moon, Yaotai rouge is dyed, and Xiaolou is full of grievances. When the love is strong, it seems to be light, and the dream is like an orchid, and it is not allowed to be seen. Qimeng also flies to the peach and plum garden, and the bustling quiet place looks at the clouds.

The candle flame in the west window is sometimes, the pear blossoms are fluttering, and the cup is also a poem. Zhijun sacrificed spring outside the window, and the smoke and light were enough to know himself. The bronze mirror is full of rouge, the hands are condensed, and the lyre is still ringing. Hongchen has a dream, for whom does he sing light makeup?

Butterflies play with swallows between the curtains, and the dust turns around. Patience dyes the thoughts thoroughly, and his eyes are full of redness.

Even if there is a sheng song and a broken bowel, the rain hates the clouds and is drunk, who will pity him. Wisps of lonely smoke, life affairs, twilight long pavilion, pear resentment, flowers do not know what to say. Who is rouge spring pavilion, painting screen warbler language circulation. The incense is still the same, the tears are difficult to understand, and the sorrow is forgotten among the willows.

The deeper flower shadow is thin, and the breeze climbs the painting building. One is about to fall asleep, and the drunkenness has died. Loneliness is the same as the piano, so leave the sorrow together. The peach makeup is red, and the cold smoke is passing through the eyes. The pillow moon kisses tears, and only sniffs it. The stairs are cold to send books, and the red dust is endless. The beads are dyed with patina, and the cold rain is taking precautions. The plantain is wet and melancholy, and the poetry of the cloud window is old.

The west wind is shocking the willows, and in the depths of the clouds, who is wrong for the Lan Zhou? Standing up to the end of the sun, sighing and folding the pavilion willows, the chin head is empty and the sleeves are empty, and the hairpin shadow is thin. The bright moon shines on the West Building, and it is always difficult to collect a piece of infatuation. Whoever leans on the river tower alone, a pot of drifting, wandering the end of the world is difficult to enter the throat, what do you want for the husband? Don't be a long road over the years, who greets on behalf of you, and the moon moves and the flowers and shadows in a few spring and autumn.

On that day, under your city.

The eyes are blurred and drunk, and you say that you will never change your love for me.

Keeping his promise, he was at a loss for a while.

I'm lost, you promised me half of the country.

That month, long hair reached waist.

Gently hold three thousand tenderness, you let go of the country and forget the return date.

Cover your face with your sleeves and let the tears droplet.

If you don't come, how will I be alone for the rest of my life?

Empty and melancholy, my heart is sad.

Even if it is prosperous, how can the years pass.

In front of the court, the peach blossoms bloomed and thanked, and the ground was broken and red.

In the old plain paper, the peach gradually turned pale, thinned the thoughts, and enriched the years.

The peach blossoms on the human face are dependent on each other, and when will you return?

Pride and indulgence, have you forgotten the return date?

There are thousands of thoughts, and I wish you well.

That year, the empty city was old.

People don't know where to go, and they want to ask if there is no time to return.

The young face is old, the heart is like water, and there are no more waves.

Keep a pool of ink fragrance, how can you forget the past?

Waiting to thank you on the other side, the flowers all over the ground witnessed the prosperity of the past.

Dressing up in the mirror, whose world is entwined with thousands of green silks?

In the past, who was obsessed?

Thoughts have always been beautiful and distant.

I don't want to leave, not to wait for you to turn back.

It's just that I'm used to it, and I'm happy to wait for it all these years.

In the depths of the red dust, those clouds and rivers drifted in the past, which have long been frozen by time into a faint ink and smoke rain. The mood of the water and flowers was wet by a drop of frost and dew in the morning. I hid behind a broken leaf, embroidering the old days. In the rhyme of Pingxuan, the heart is injected into an eternity. If time is old, I will also smile and draw a perfect picture of the past.

The world has long been crushed into the dust. Gradually, I got used to it, and cherished all the warmth silently. In the morning, I set off in a drop of dew, and continued to write the unfinished words along the temperature you came last night. At dusk, I am quietly waiting for you in the afterglow of the sunset, stepping into my shallow dream again.

A wisp of thin joy, falling from a thinner branch into a line of poetry that had just been opened, began to stretch his eyebrows in the familiar fragrance of ink. On the Mo of the soul, there are passers-by who are adrift. Abandon the complexity, we can always extract a trace of new green in the old time. In the coming year, when the wind rises, quietly blow them green.

In the cup, the tea gradually cools. Who threw Bo Nian into the wind, and who made the bones hard and unforgettable into the wind and clouds? With a shallow smile and bent eyebrows, whose heartstrings have been touched by overflowing thoughts? Time is as thin as a cicada's wings, and who of us can be unscathed? In the face of 3,000 prosperity, after all, it cannot withstand a worldly fireworks. I, when will I be able to bloom into the touch of orchid you like?