"Go faster. "On a certain street in Anyang City, there are few people on this road, no, after waiting for a long time, two bold young people came over in the distance.

"Hurry up. Slowly. One of the young men, visibly anxious, called out to the other young man.

"What's the hurry?" said another young man, gasping for breath.

"It's all your fault, we got up late, so we had to take this shortcut. “

"What are you afraid of, it's daytime, and it's daylight. “

"Anyway, this is the Yan family's house, haven't you heard? My relatives said that the temple in the palace is haunted. I can often hear voices and sighs inside. “

"The Yan clan has been sealed for many years, what are you afraid of?" The young man, as if to prove his courage, pointed to the door of the Yan clan and said, "The door is covered with royal seals. “

As soon as the sound fell, as soon as the winter wind blew, the door behind him opened a small crack with a bang, and even the seal on the door slowly fell to the ground.

The two young men looked at each other, and then ran away without any image.

Now, Yan's door is quiet again!

Why is this happening? It's still a few hours in the morning.

Xu Fu raised his head slightly, looking at the capitalized seal on the white paper paste on the Zhumen Bishi. An indescribable feeling suddenly surged in my heart, like the tentacles of memory, little by little trying to pick up those deeply buried stories.

It took a long time for her to raise her hand, and the scarlet door was on her hand, and it slowly opened with the breath of age.

Xu Fu was like a newborn child, carefully looking at every inch of the once heavy and unfamiliar mansion, as if the air was filled with his smell when he smelled it. It seemed that as long as he paused, his figure would appear from some corner of this deep courtyard.

Searching, looking, smelling, and in the end, there was nothing but the breeze, the warm sun.

What are she looking for? Perhaps, she doesn't know.

Walking slowly, her footsteps were already full of disappointment, casually walking, no longer with hope into a certain room, on the wall of the room, hung a huge picture scroll, the picture scroll of the people in the green silk shawl, Wan Er smiled, the cinnabar between the forehead, the point is red, through the dust is also shining.

She stopped, lazily shifted her position from side to side, and then stopped walking, her gaze firmly fixed on the person on the painting.

It's beautiful, it's beautiful, the slender figure can't tell the difference between men and women under the thick clothes, so he stands upright, his hand stretched out gently. The eyes of the person in the painting fell right in front of her, no more, no less.

In this way, she inherited the gentle gaze of the person on the scroll.

In her opinion, she is somewhat similar to the person in the painting, maybe it is the curvature of the upturned mouth, maybe the position of the tip of the nose, maybe the number of eyelashes, it must be similar, after all, there is a similar blood relationship flowing in the bones.

Although it has been a long, long time, the bloodline of the two atavists has passed through thousands of years, and among thousands of people, both of them are destined to attract each other and meet each other.

She couldn't help but step forward, her hand trembling and stretching out, carefully touching the face that was once extremely familiar.

He's smiling, smiling with happiness.

Such a smile used to be the medicine for her to persevere, but now, it is the poison that destroys her with her own hands!

Her hands slowly retracted, her arched nails sharpened on the paper, and the emotions that had accumulated in her heart condensed into a dynamite, and she contained all the emotions in the next scream, released into the air. Suddenly, the black air in the air tore everything to pieces, including the paintings on the wall.

It was scattered on the ground, and the scroll of the scroll became two halves, and a small scroll inside, mischievously rolled on the ground and rolled to her feet.

She picked up the scroll at her feet and opened it carefully, revealing another picture with a tiny letter raft.

On the scroll, a girl in a white dress is playfully holding a fan in her hand and patting the butterflies in the flowers. The buns on both sides of the girl's face are pinned to the sideburns, dragging the girl's round face, which is not good-looking, but it looks cute in the painting, and a scar on the forehead is carefully painted with delicate flowers, which looks even more beautiful.

She was stunned, and something seemed to be flashing through her mind.

"Is it that the woman is disfigured and can't get married?"

"Who said that you haven't heard of flower stickers? Your scars, put flowers on them, and no one will see them. It's a big deal, it's posted every day. “

"But I won't post it. “

"I will, I'll help you. “

"Wouldn't that seem weird?"

"What's so strange? It's just that the Xu family is stubborn, and no one posts it. If you think it's strange, I'll stick it too. “

"Isn't it weird for a man to stick it? My eyesight is good, and I can see you from afar. “

"Okay, then I'll put 10,000-year-old cinnabar on my forehead, so that you can see me at a glance. “

"Is it pretty?"

"This flower sticker is so pretty. It's just that when you go to the battlefield, you have to take it down again. “

“。。。。。。。。 “

"Xu Xi, are you angry?"

"Nope. “

"Then why don't you speak. “

"I just feel sorry for it, I feel useless. “

"You must not say that, I volunteered to become an atavistic ancestor, and I volunteered to put on the armor of battle, because I can protect the country, I can protect you. “

"Hmm. “

"Xu Xi, you said, if one day, the Kangxuan Dynasty, the people's hearts are stable, everything is prosperous, and there is no war, how good it would be. “

"There will come a day! If not, I'll create one myself!"

"At that time, I can flutter butterflies every day, apply decals every day, and look at you every day. “

"Hmm. “

Her eyes were already moist, her hands were raised in the void, and the shattered scrolls on the ground slowly closed together in front of her. One after the other, the two picture scrolls were combined, only to find that the hand of the ancestor of the Yan family was not the direction or the world, but her, and the hand on the painting was gently raised, wanting to hold the little girl who fluttered the butterfly.

Her gaze was blank for a while, and it was only as time passed that she slowly put away everything in front of her, including the letter raft.