The world that appeared in front of Liu Ling's eyes was not pitch black. There was light, a little bit of light, like a veil of night in the night, not bright, but not hopeless.

This......

Liu Ling moaned softly, like a wanderer returning to his hometown, touching the bits and pieces of the night with his black eyes delicately.

The gaze was very gentle, as soft as something that appeared in Liu Ling's sight.

It was a piece of paper, drawing a person, a person who made Liu Ling familiar and made Liu Ling sigh. I heard her sigh slightly and take a step forward. The steps were very gentle, for fear of startling the sleepy-eyed stars in the sky. Her breathing was very light, as if she would startle the sleeping painting paper on the ground, making the person in the painting exclaim and stand in front of Liu Ling.

This......

Isn't that exactly the scene before I die?

Liu Ling sighed and stopped his steps. Before she entered this main god space, she was originally an illustrator. The painter has very few friends, counting them around, only a pen and a piece of paper.

This is the whole world of his own world, with no friends, except for the people in the painting. There was no sound, except for the rustle of the pen. There is no color, except for the black that has been seen a thousand times and can no longer be washed away.

Tick......

A soft sound suddenly rang in Liu Ling's ears. She lowered her head, and her black hair gently brushed the tip of her small nose, driving Liu Ling's gaze downward, stopping at the source of the voice.

It's like white jade, but it's flawless. On the wrist carved like white marble, a red rope is tied. The rope is made of blood and is constantly getting thicker.

Commit suicide by slitting your wrists.

This is Liu Ling's way of death.

She smiled, watched, watched, sighed, and crouched down. It's like watching a stray kitten crouching in front of you and meowing.

The blood on the wrist was dripping little by little, little by little, not much, but there was no sign of stopping. Gradually, Liu Ling curled the corners of his mouth slightly and smiled.

The beautiful white teeth shone in the dimly lit room, and the bright red blood should have dripped on the white paper, causing a little ripple and smudging little by little.

The vermilion blood stains are like a flower bone lying silent on the other side of the Yellow Spring. Gently shake the body, and then bloom.

"It's beautiful."

Zhu Ling's lips opened slightly, and Liu Ling sighed softly.

The beautiful and delicate flowers are like maidens, and they are only delicate and touching when they fall.

It is only when death that there is the most beautiful sight.

Everything is like this.

His eyes became heavier little by little, and Liu Ling's white cheeks were getting closer and closer to the painting paper in front of him, as if he could blow up the painting paper in front of him with just a gentle breath.

Tick...... Tick...... Tick......

The sound rang out in the dimly lit studio, until the slightest sound sounded.

Boom! Knock knock! Knock knock knock......

Head. It slammed into the ground, and the bruises spread across her pale forehead until the girl closed her black eyes.

Dead silence is the only term now.

I don't know how long it has been. Liu Ling slowly felt that he had woken up.

The black eyes lit up again in the dim room, like the faintest stars in the deepest night. The star was bleak and desolate.

She looked upwards at the only person standing in the dimly lit room.

It was a young girl. He has long black shawl hair, the ends of which extend to his shoulders, swaying quietly in the windless studio. Like a red candle in the wind, a remnant flower in the rain.

Tick!

With a soft sound, Liu Ling only felt that the tip of his nose was cold. She lowered her head, breathed lightly, and then gathered her gaze.

A speck of bright red blood bloomed on the tip of her nose.

Liu Ling didn't turn around, he wasn't afraid, he just looked indifferently, like a puppet, at the little red blood spot on the tip of his nose, and at this moment, there was another soft sound.

Tick!

The voice was like a clock turned by death, ringing in Liu Ling's ears all the time, reminding her that life was dying.

Bright red blood spots spread more and more vigorously on her face until they covered all the white spots.

The delicate and fair face was immersed in the blood of the bright red forehead. Liu Ling's eyes, which were immersed in blood, slowly rotated, causing ripples in the pool of blood, and finally focused on the girl who was slowly falling, and watched the girl collapse to the ground with a bang.

The girl's black eyes were facing Liu Ling's eyes soaked in blood, and the bright stars were facing the bright red stars.

"It turned out to be ......"

A contemptuous and sighing voice poured out from Liu Ling's mouth. She turned her head and stared at the world behind her.

It was dark, and it was snow-white.

Darkness is because there is nothing but one's own shadow. Snow white because there is no color other than the black of the shadow.

The person outside the drawing paper was dead, and blood was dripping from his snow-white wrist.

Liu Ling in the painting seems to be held up by a soul, rising from the page little by little, hovering in mid-air.

For the first time, Liu Ling found himself able to see the whole picture of this studio.

In the twenty-square-meter studio, there is only a dark red chair, silently hidden under the dark red table. Next to the dark red table, a young girl lay on her back.

The girl has a nose as small as Liu Ling, eyes as big as Liu Ling, black hair as straight as Liu Ling, and the same snow-white, slender wrists as Liu Ling, and a small red rope tied around her wrist, a rope made of blood.

This is Liu Ling, who committed suicide by cutting his wrists!!

The painting papers scattered around Liu Ling, who had no snort, can prove it!

Those characters who appear in the middle of thousands of drawing papers, and do not differ in the slightest, can be proved!

Those who are silent, with thousands of blood-red eyes staring into the darkness, can prove it!

Liu Ling fell into a deep sleep, and then returned to the cramped studio where he had committed suicide. Cutting his wrists and committing suicide, he died in the studio, and no one cast his eyes on this studio that bloomed in the dark, except for Liu Ling, who kissed the darkness with his red eyes in hundreds of paintings.

"Are you about to start an endless reincarnation?"

Liu Ling's soul hovering in mid-air whispered to himself, subconsciously lowering his head and staring at his snow-white wrist.

On the wrist, a little bright red, like a night rose, slowly opens.

Death, repeat again!

————————————————————————————————————

"The third one fell into a deep sleep...... Is it Liu Ling? ”

Liu Mengchao stared at the eyes in front of him and asked slowly.

"You already know the way?"

Chao Shenya's silver eyes flashed, and he replied.

"First Qi Xiaoxiao, then Gao Xiaowan, and finally Liu Ling." Liu Mengchao said slowly, his gaze cast into the endless distant sky, "The three of them fell into a deep sleep in turn, in other words, they had actually given the answer. ”

"I don't understand what you mean." Chao Shenya shook his head slightly, "But I think it's not easy for you to wake up the three of them. ”

"Yes, it's really not an easy thing to do. It's going to be hard and dangerous. Liu Mengchao nodded lightly, but a contemptuous smile squeezed out of the corner of his mouth, "Because for me, there is still one fundamental condition missing."

"Conditions?"

"An entrance ticket that will allow me to enter the realm of dreams. The battlefield has already been chosen, so ......" Liu Mengchao slowly clenched his hands and looked at the sunset that was gradually sinking in the sky, "I can't help but go." ”

"It would be rude not to go." Liu Mengchao smiled and said, "And I'm also curious." ”

"Curious?" Shen Shenya's eyes flickered, and he asked softly.

Liu Mengchao didn't give an answer, only the bloody remnant sun came from a distance. The red sunset flowed down from Liu Mengchao's neck, like a waterfall formed by the gathering of blood, flowing on the man standing in the sunset.

The remnant sun is like blood, but I don't know if Liu Mengchao's blood will be more red than this sunset.

Because, only red blood is the most delicate.

And Liu Mengchao has always been very beautiful. (To be continued......)

PS：—————————————————————————————————————

Call~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the first update of the day...... Today, in order to be able to squeeze out more time to write novels, I kept working on papers in front of the computer with a bowl until eight o'clock in the evening.

The next chapter should be before twelve o'clock, and if it doesn't make it, it should be around one or two o'clock.

In addition, I think this chapter is very beautifully written, at least I am very good at stinky beauty, laugh~

Then, I heard that the readership was going to be cleaned up, so everyone spoke quickly to ensure safety ~~~~~ (╯_╰)

Thank you Xuanyuan Murderer for your reward, hug it~\(≧▽≦)/~

Thank you for the little stupid big reward~~~ Ha Lu haha, touch, the midterm exam worked hard~~~~

Thank you for the eternal § instant big reward~~~~ I won't sell cuteness to you~╮(╯▽╰)╭

Thank you to all of you who have subscribed to this chapter~~~~~~~~~~ I love you ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~