(Yesterday's 257 and 258 chapters were revised at half past two yesterday afternoon, deleting some unnecessary nonsense, and adding some plots. Alas, this is how the bitter coercion of the unsaved manuscripts is cheating, and once again pray that a large number of saved manuscripts will land. No. 9.6 stays, delete in a few days)

Jing Yiran sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the bed, only playing with a strand of Qiao An's hair hanging down, he looked up through the window and looked out, the sky of the demon world was not as blue as the fairy world, but blood red, and there was no sun, but a blood moon hanging all year round.

There is no change of seasons, and there are no fresh flowers and fruits.

There is only an endless desert with plants with black hard shells.

Just like a demon, with a hard skin and thick limbs, what you want to cultivate is not aura, but black magic, and what you want to refine is never a dantian, but a strong physique.

They don't look at birth, they only look at strength.

That's why he has a habitat, but even so, because of his half-human blood, he has human soft skin, and is despised by many demons who regard a solid shell as beauty, and he tastes bullied, his father is ominous, and his mother is just an immortal.

After giving birth to him, they regarded him as a disgrace.

So he never believed in love, and he also put interests first.

But now......

But he did that because of one person.

Even now that I think about it, it's incredible.

He slowly put his hand on his chest.

There's a heart beating there.

When he saw this woman hurt, he let out a piercing pain, and it was a wonderful feeling, and it made his soul angry, and he almost lost all his mind and became a different person.

He frowned.

clenched his fists.

It's a terrible feeling of losing your mind and not being able to control it.

It must be culled.

Jing Yiran turned his head and looked at the woman on the bed, she was sleeping there, unguarded, and he slowly stretched out a finger and poked Qiao An's face.

Tender.

It slid down to the neck and rested on the lifeline.

Fragile.

Jing Yiran sneered, and after realizing that he did not hesitate to crush the precious space magic weapon for such a woman, he teleported here, and lost the opportunity to fight the immortals in the immortal clan and slap the immortal clan in the face.

It's really incredible.

If you do it again!

He slowly gripped Joan's slender neck with his hand.

He would never do that!

At this moment, Qiao An's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if there were signs of waking up, Jing Yiran saw it, the hand holding Qiao An's neck trembled, and immediately subconsciously retracted, as if she was afraid that she would find out his evil intentions, and when she took it back, her face darkened again.

Why should he be afraid?!

Joan slowly opened her eyes, her vision gradually changed from blur to clear, her mind went blank, as if she had forgotten something, but she seemed to remember something.

"Awake?"

A cold and awkward voice sounded.

Qiao An's thoughts paused, and she looked towards the source of the sound, and saw that she stood up at some point, and looked at her condescendingly.

He had a cold face, the scar on his face was long gone, and the black scales could be faintly seen on the right side of his face, thinking that the scar was just to cover the scales that represented the demons.

She was stunned for a moment, first remembering the scene she had seen before she completely lost consciousness.

The man stepped on the dragon and held the dragon spear in his hand and came up to her and freed her from the pitch-black box......

She silently stretched out her hand and covered her heart.

There's a heart beating there.

"Poof, poof."

Every beating seems to be able to bring wave after wave of electricity, from the heart to the whole body, crispy numbness can't help but make her clench her chest, trying to catch that moment of heartbeat.

It is often said that the warmth encountered in times of crisis is always fresh in people's memories, and the hand stretched out in despair can always reach to the softest place in the heart.