Mo Feng's mind went blank, and he reached out in vain to grab her, but the transparent and blurry figure shattered into scattered purple points of light in an instant, and gradually, gradually sank into the netherworld.

The purple light that drifted through him seemed to still have her temperature.

But they all drifted away from his side, from his fingertips, one by one, and could not be saved, like an unreal dream.

Like quicksand through the fingers, like flowing water falling into a lake.

And what's left?

Ink Wind wanted to rush into the Netherworld, but an invisible barrier slammed him out, as if there was an impassable world between the two.

The netherworld, and the yang world.

What else can be done to stop this?

If you gave him hope, why did you deprive it of it at the last moment when it was about to succeed?

Is it just to tease him!

"Sister Chenruo, don't leave ......"

In the distance, the anxious cries of the end of winter, she rushed into the netherworld, desperately holding back the purple points of light and holding them in her arms in an almost ridiculous posture.

"Get out of here, get out of here!" cried the little girl, hugging the purple dots of light as she dodged left and right in the swirls of the Nether River.

However, every time the wave is raised, there are many points of light that are swept in, and they can no longer be found.

At the end of winter, he curled up in a ball, desperately protecting those purple points of light, and said with tears on his face: "Brother Mo, you should think of a way!"

What else can be done...... What else can be done......

How...... How to save her...... To stop this damn everything?

Countless memories roared like a storm, and the ink wind quickly drifted away in countless images, just in search of an insignificant hope.

Finally, he found what he was looking for.

"Heaven and earth are born with a bright soul, and the soul is transformed into a ......"

"The soul gathers and settles, combines the five elements, and divides the qi of the two instruments......"

"Therefore, the spring rains and moistens, fades the barren and condenses the vitality, and the number of lives is changed against the tide. ”

"The foundation of soul condensation is to reshape, shape the soul, and create nature. ”

It was the soul condensation technique she had taught him.

The world is created, a drink and a peck, this cause and effect, is it predetermined?

Ink Wind's soul sea dried up at an alarming rate, but he didn't realize it at all, and just chanted the soul condensation technique over and over again.

Over and over again.

Until the purple light spots in the sky resurfaced, and there was a see-saw stalemate between the Netherworld River and the Purple Dust Ruo.

Mo Feng's vision began to blur and shake, and he was in a trance like a dream.

He didn't know that his soul power had already been overdrawn, and the white jade bottle was trying to give him a stream of white light, but it was quickly squandered by the soul condensation technique.

His consciousness began to blur, but he was still muttering the hundred or so words of the Soul Condensation Technique.

Until the purple light came against the current, swaying like rain in her soul sea.

Until the Netherworld River fades away, and disappears.

Until the lifeless face of the girl in purple finally had a touch of life aura.

Until his heartstrings loosened, he finally sank into the boundless darkness.

It's been a long time in the dark, but there seems to be something else in the darkness, unconsciously attracting Mofeng's attention.

He seemed to see a splendid palace, the palace was deserted, only a five or six-year-old boy struggled to carry a long sword, constantly repeating the action of drawing the sword, stabbing forward, drawing the sword, stabbing forward, meticulous at a glance, boring and boring.

A middle-aged man beside the boy stared at him indifferently, without any appreciation or satisfaction on his face, only occasionally pointing out a few words, but that kind of pointing was all disgusting scolding and reprimand, without the slightest gentleness or encouragement.

He seemed to be so disappointed in the boy that he stood there and kept his sword moving.

The boy is like a silent statue, stubbornly maintaining a posture from morning to night, and the night is getting darker.

With a "clang", the boy finally passed out, but his right arm was still stretched out, clutching the long sword.

It didn't take long for him to wake up, and he was woken up by a middle-aged man splashed with a basin of ice water.

The December wind was bitterly cold, and the boy struggled to get up covered in ice, and his face was sickly and ruddy.

He was still silent, no excuse, no complaints, but there was only dead silence and indifference on his obviously immature face.

I don't know how much perseverance he continued to start a new day of sword training, or the two basic movements that were so boring that it was unbearable, but the middle-aged man was just not satisfied.

The boy finally fell ill, but the middle-aged man ignored the matter that could be solved with a few pills, and completely left him to fend for himself.

In the huge and gorgeous palace, but the boy is always alone, not to mention the palace maids to take care of him, and even he has to boil the medicine himself.

He staggered to the room with the elixir in his arms, but fell weakly to the ground, and the herbs were scattered everywhere.

He struggled for a long time and couldn't get up, so he could only climb on the ground with difficulty, holding the elixir in his arms one by one, and when his hand reached for the last vine elixir, one foot stepped on it fiercely, and even crushed it a few times like a demonstration.

The boy lay on the ground and raised his head, his dark pupils still indifferent, but there was a little more coldness in the dead silence.

"Bah! Waste! It's a shame to have a brother like you!" a boy of twelve or thirteen years old looked disgusted, surrounded by a group of attendants, richly dressed and elegant, and the boy who was embarrassed was completely from two worlds.

After one of the attendants finished crushing the elixir with his foot, he gloated and kicked it in the boy's face: "Eat, I kindly added some ingredients for you, it should be even more delicious!"

Another maid giggled and said, "That's right, don't waste it, your master only ordered so many medicinal materials from the Divine Medicine Palace, don't expect him to prepare another one for you, after all, your master has so many disciples, how can he care about you, the most wasteful one?"

"Hahaha!"

A group of people talked and laughed, and walked away, listening to the topic they talked about, which had shifted to the legendary story of a certain genius.

The boy was silent in the snow for a long time, but finally picked up the sparsely trampled vine and gently hugged it in his arms.

Even with such insults and malice, he didn't open his mouth to curse, he didn't complain, he didn't hysterical, he was like a deaf and blind man.

On the snow, the little figure crawled forward little by little, little by little, and just like that, it snaked out a thrilling trail with difficulty.

Towards an unpredictable future he had no idea about.

......

The boundless darkness sank and sunk as if dispelled by the light.

Mo Feng opened his eyes in a trance, his head still throbbing, and there was a feeling of emptiness and weakness.

It took him a long time to remember what had happened, for the story of the boy he had seen in his coma seemed to occupy his mind, and for a moment he couldn't tell who he was.

It's like having a long dream, and there is always some unreal sense of confusion when you first wake up from the big dream.

No, what about Chenruo?

Mo Feng suddenly regained his senses, hurriedly left the dream-like story behind, and began to look for the traces of Zichenruo around him.

He found himself in a strange and humble stone house, with a cold stone platform lying underneath him, not even a bed.

When he sat up suddenly, he turned his head to meet a pair of bright eyes, and a girl dressed in purple sat quietly on the edge of the stone platform, staring at him without blinking, without speaking or making any superfluous movements.

"Chenruo?" Mo Feng looked at her in a daze, completely unprepared, and couldn't help but wonder for a moment if he had fallen into a dream within a dream.

Is she "awake"? Is she really alive?

The girl's autumn eyes in front of him were still fixed on his face, and he just hummed softly.

"Dusty ......" I don't know why, after the sudden surprise, Mo Feng keenly felt that something was wrong.

He suddenly asked with some uneasiness, "You...... Do you remember me?"

The Yin Spirit had already reminded him that even if the soul conjuring was successful, everything could not be perfect, and that incomplete souls were likely to cause memory loss or confusion. Not to mention that in the process of stalemate with the Nether Water, those purple points of light representing the soul of purple dust were swallowed up a lot, and Mo Feng didn't dare to speculate anymore.

"Huh?" the girl in purple looked at him suspiciously, as if she didn't understand what he was talking about.

Obviously she is still the same pair of quiet and clear eyes, and she is still the gentle and quiet girl, but she always feels that some places have become very strange.

Mo Feng couldn't suppress the mood of gain and loss, and reached out and gently touched Zi Chenruo's sleeve, as if he wanted to confirm whether she in front of him was real.

Apparently, he did not dream, nor did he see any apparitions.

She really is her.

But......

When Mo Feng was stunned, the girl in front of her suddenly showed a confused look, and the next moment her eyes blinked, and the temperament of the whole person suddenly became completely different.

The purple-clothed girl tightly grasped Mo Feng's hand touching her sleeve, and a delicate look appeared on her face that was definitely not in line with her character, Chu Chu said pitifully and tearfully: "Feng, you finally woke up, you have been in a coma for two days......"

Mo Feng stared blankly at this extremely strange her, only to feel like she had been struck by lightning, and her mind was ridiculously blank.

Wait!this, this, this...... What's going on?

It's obviously the same face, the same person, why...... Why is it ...... What was going on? Was he really not dreaming?

Even if it's a dream, there has to be a minimum logic and bottom line, right? !

Before Mo Feng could react from the collapse of the three views, the girl threw herself directly into his arms and said with a crying voice: "Feng, I thought I would never see you again...... Woo, don't leave me again, okay......"

Mo Feng didn't care to reply, his whole spirit sank into the sea of souls, and he directly found the extremely weak purple light and asked, "Did you do anything wrong?!"

"Hurry up and let me out!, do you want to regret it?" Ziguang asked weakly.

"You explain it to me first!"