This story is finally over, and I am relieved.

Everyone said that I have a manuscript, okay I do, this story, I started at nine o'clock in the evening a few days ago, and wrote until half past eleven at noon the next day, I love Red Bull, I love Dongpeng, and there is an anti-fatigue drink that is very similar to Dongpeng's packaging, and a bottle of devil's claw.

It's still better to drink in the devil's claws

Then the next day I slept only for an hour at noon and continued in the afternoon.

Revisions will be made until the day they are sent.

The character of Honghui is my favorite person now...... I don't know if it's not, maybe not, after all, it's just a middle-aged uncle (stall hands)

A once chic and indulgent young swordsman has become a peak master who cannot struggle in the red dust, and has become wooden, the more he bears it, the more he has no way to laugh, but he is still carrying these things forward.

Twenty-three years.

Then, use yourself as a flame to fight for a future for the sect.

He was able to laugh at the end......

Maybe this person, as he said, failed the expectations of his master, which made his wife heartbroken, lost his daughter, and turned his apprentice against him......

What a mess......

So, why can't such a middle-aged man become a hero?

With the most fiery attitude, it burns in front of everyone......

I remember that there is a sentence in the theme song of Star Change, can a person who is not expected become a hero?

May I?

I do not know......

When this character was written, I thought of Yue Buqun, and I was thinking that if someone in a similar sect predicament was a heroic swordsman.

What will it look like?

Does the swordsman have to be dashing in white? Get out of the white blade, in the red dust of murder?

That's too far away, isn't it?

No matter how embarrassed he is, no matter how he falls, how he doesn't look like a master swordsman, even if he looks like a frustrated and embarrassed middle-aged man who has been a mess in the past, even if he is shaky, even if he seems to be pressed to his knees by responsibility and duty in the next moment......

But the heart is still there.

The sword is still there......

The focus is on the heart...... Whether it is us, or the swordsman in the story, this is the most important and common, the original intention is still there, all the torture, but after a thousand tempers, the cold edge of the sword is becoming more and more dazzling.

I have too many thoughts in my heart, and I feel very complicated, and what I said is a little messy, so forgive me......

I need to sort out the storyline and route...... Take a leave of absence once (hold your fist)