The autumn wind and cold rain, when the winter season was about to begin, Jiang Rin held an oil-paper umbrella and came to the back mountain.

The green hills are continuous, the rainy days are like washed red exercises, the drizzle is endless, mixed with a faint smell of grass, the scenery is distinctly colored, and the outline is becoming clearer.

The group silently followed behind him, carrying a pile of tributes, and did not dare to make a sound.

After a long time, he stopped and stopped in front of a stone tombstone, which was wet from the rain and slightly darker, and a few words were written on the tombstone with vigorous brushwork.

The tomb of his beloved wife Lan Qing.

The red cinnabar shimmered with the brilliance of gold leaf, Jiang Rin's hand caressed the lines of the words, his body slowly leaned down, someone held up an umbrella for him behind him, and some wisps of rain still floated onto his cheeks, looking like tears, staggered and shining on his delicate cheeks.

The countless congregations behind him were silent.

"Stand down."

Jiang Rin's voice was already more vicissitudes than many years ago, majestic and low.

"Leader ......"

"Stand down." Jiang Rin would be extra tough at this time, he lowered his voice, and then said, "This rain is okay. ”

Everyone didn't dare to say anything more to refute, you look at me, I look at yours, bowed down and retreated.

Only the tribute left beside him, Jiang Rin was half-kneeling, and carefully placed the tribute in front of the tombstone little by little, and he deliberately picked her favorite glass calendula when he just passed through the garden, she always liked to fiddle with these before her death, patient and meticulous, so that he ate a lot of vinegar.

Jiang Rin asked in a distant voice across the flowers, "Is this flower more important than me?" ”

Lan Qing was stunned, the hand carrying the shower hung down, and said to him with a depressed face with a smile, "Of course it's not as important as you, but tomorrow there will be strong wind and rain, you can hide in the house, it can't." ”

As she spoke, she continued to cook carefully, making Jiang Rin angry at that time.

……

There was a sudden pain in my heart.

Jiang Rin touched the cold flower with his hand and gently placed it in front of the tombstone.

Now all that remains is these bouquets.

The cold air soaked into his body along the droplets, cold to the depths of his bone marrow, and he pursed his lips until all the tributes were complete, and then slowly raised his head and looked at the words he had carved on the tombstone.

The sect members standing in the distance looked at Jiang Rin, who was kneeling alone in front of the tombstone, and couldn't hear what he was slowly babbling in front of the tombstone.

Every time the lady died, the sect leader would always let them leave, leaving him alone to whisper to his wife.

Even though he is invincible in the world, there is always a loneliness that cannot be dispersed.

They still remember that a few years ago, it was the happiest time for the sect leader, and they could even occasionally get gentle comfort from the sect leader, which was simply terrifying.

Is that...... When the Master's wife was still there.

And now, the sect leader seems to have no other emotions.

In the past, he was arrogant and presumptuous, but now he is restrained and steady, and no one can see through what he is thinking in his heart.

Madame did not leave a son and a half daughter, and when the best of her years passed, the Sect Master took care of the flowers and plants she planted in her place, and no one was allowed to touch them, and the Sect Master fulfilled her wish to travel the world in her place, and did many things on her behalf......

Jiang Rin finished talking about the year, the smile on the corner of his mouth gradually faded, and he caressed the tombstone, as if he had once brushed her cold cheeks.

At this moment, a slight pain flashed in his forehead, and he held the tombstone with a fierce force, his fingertips white, and smashed the edge of the tombstone with a little force.

In an instant, a flood of strange memories poured into his mind, and the overwhelming memory capacity almost ate away his original memory.

"Lan Qing......" he frowned, hysterically pronouncing her name.

"Why ......"

Voices of extreme pain and despair echoed in the drizzle of the sky.

"I just remember it now......"