"If you don't need it, you don't have to worry about it anyway, it's not me who hurts, it's your own business to die or live, whatever you want." Mu Yunfeng muttered to herself, looked at the dagger in her hand, and then at the flame in her hand, she was sterilizing the dagger, "Scraping flesh and bones is not as simple as it sounds. ”

An hour later.

Mu Yunfeng gathered all the messy things in the room and burned them in the room, these things had to be destroyed, and it would be boring to leave them and find themselves bored if there was a problem.

After she burned those things, the smoke was very choking, and the smoke around her was full of smoke, so she went straight to the window, opened the window to breathe, and the smell of blood in it was very strong, and the smell of smoke was very strong, so she took two hours to breathe first, and processed it for two hours, one hour is equal to two hours.

"I can still sleep." Mu Yunfeng looked at Mu Kong with his spare corner, Mu Kong was breathing smoothly at the moment, his eyes were closed, and his frowning brows were much looser, he was now covered with cloth all over his body, like a mummy, so he almost bandaged his head.

I have to go and see if I can find the admission letter in a few days, Mu Yanyu's people can't get it for the time being, she has someone sheltering, she won't be able to get it for a while, she has to find a way to get a few more, and there is a divorce, and the divorce must also be obtained, Luo Luo's can not be ignored, but the admission letter of the divorce, he can't do it and ignore it.

Mu Yunfeng took out a crimson oil-paper umbrella from the cabinet, and there was a very small and delicate bell hanging on the handle of the oil-paper umbrella, a very small bell, a bell on the flower rope, it was hung on the handle of the umbrella, there was no painting on the outside of the umbrella, but there were landscape paintings inside, there were mountains, rivers, people, and poems.

Jun Yuan Bo Su Gong Yan.

is obsessed with a Yiyi person, and his heart accompanies him in this life.

I know how to think for me, but I don't know how to worry about me.

Parting Sauvignon Blanc, returning for a long time.

Twilight love, not lonely for a long time.

May Boi smile and spend a long time.

The love is deep and shallow, how can I be haggard.

The twilight rain is unaware, and the morning clouds do not disperse.

Su Gongyan

This name Mu Yunfeng remembers very clearly, it is the half-human and half-demon person, the same brother of his father, and the person that the original owner once saw in the cemetery, with blue eyes, and a beast that guards auspiciousness.

Blue eyes, red umbrellas, ghost masks, and phoenixes, his ghost mask is a phoenix, lifelike, and the appearance of rebirth from the fire is vivid.

Carry a red umbrella with you, no matter what time you go, and hold the umbrella all the time when you go out.

This is what Mu Tou said, I don't know why, she suddenly became interested in this person, and it was also because the scene left by that person in the memory of the original owner was too profound to be forgotten for a long time.

"Is this umbrella left by the blue-eyed man?"

The umbrella had never been used, it had been left there, and it was covered with dust at the moment, and if it hadn't been for the rain, she probably wouldn't have noticed the umbrella.

Is this what he wrote?

Why so sad.

For the sake of Iraq, the people are haggard. The alliance is empty in the end, and the water and smoke are blank.

Time can forget everything, but also make some memories deepen, some people, say to forget, but can't do it, some feelings, go around, or will return to the original point.

Wait, Mu Yunfeng felt that the handle of the umbrella was hollow, pulled the bell, and found that a note fell out of the handle of the umbrella, on which a love letter was written in pen and ink, which should be a love letter.

The north bank forgets to return to the river, and it is deeply affectionate.

Crossing and walking back, hoping to get something to rely on.

Relying on the bag, how low and sad is infatuation and pity.

Spring goes to autumn to stay, and the wings are wishing.