There is no wind, and the fallen leaves are even more depressed and lonely.

When it falls to the ground, it is powerless to move again, unable to move again, as if it is too lazy to move.

Heaven and earth have become indescribably dead and powerless, without a trace of vitality and vitality, and indescribably extremely quiet and indifferent.

Pieces of fallen leaves fell on the cloak, and they slipped to the ground weakly, as if they were powerless, unable to entangle and joy.

Yang Qing held the cloak tightly, staring coldly at Xia Hua with her eyes, silent.

There is no life and no speech.

He stood like a stone statue, straighter than the gun in his hand, and there was no emotion in his empty eyes, staring and poking ahead like a gun.

There was only a dead silence ahead, a very quiet, indifferent dead silence.

There was no wind, but the chill was heavier, disgusting and disgusting.

Xia Hua was even more silent.

An arm was bloody on the side, and the man didn't seem to see it, and he didn't seem to bother to see it.

The blood is still flowing out, just like the steamed buns are still chewing in the mouth.

Wusheng turned around, standing like a stone statue, unwilling to look at her, and walked forward.

Yang Qing suddenly stopped him and wiped off the dried blood at the corners of her mouth, and then she looked at the corners of his mouth quietly, and a smile gradually appeared on her face, a smile that only came out when her lover was crazy and desperately in love.

"If you smile, there will definitely be many girls' hearts that will be taken away by you."

Silent without life.

"If you don't believe it, laugh at it, and my heart will be taken away by you."

Silent without life.

"If you laugh and look at it, my heart will ......."

Without saying a word, he walked forward like a stone statue, and his eyes fell to the front.

There is loneliness and emptiness ahead, a maddening, debilitating loneliness and emptiness.

Walking forward like a lifeless stone statue, towards loneliness and emptiness, his person seemed to have endured and struggled on the verge of madness and collapse, endlessly, endlessly, and his empty eyes seemed to be more ruthless and darker.

Yang Qing grabbed the cloak and left.

She didn't forget to turn around when she left here, waved her hand at Xia Hua, and made another grimace.

The afterglow of the setting sun was still there, but the earth seemed even colder, bleaker, and devoid of heat.

The cloak was already trembling slightly, the body was already trembling violently, the whole body was already trembling.

Wusheng stopped, standing upright like a stone statue, then turned around, took off his cloak, and draped it on Yang Qing's body.

His body gradually stopped trembling, and the smile on his face gradually became stronger and more crazy.

Yang Qing took Wusheng's hand and quietly looked at him, everything about him.

The lifeless stone statue stood upright, its dark eyes hollow and without a trace of emotion, staring and poking ahead like a spear.

A mass of pitch black, a table, a bench, a bowl of steamed buns, a dish of red ...... in the snow.

The appearance of Xia Hua has not changed.

Steamed buns are the cheapest staple food, and Xueli red is also the cheapest among dishes.

I didn't use chopsticks to wrench the steamed bun into two pieces, and the snow was red in it.

......。

Yang Qing turned around and was startled.

"How does this man look like a ghost?"

Silent without life.

Yang Qing took Wusheng's hand, and the smile in her eyes gradually stiffened.

"How did this man do that?"

Silent without life.

"Is this man a ghost?"

Without saying a word, he turned around like a stone statue, standing upright like a stone statue, and walked forward like a stone statue.

Pieces of dead leaves slipped from his body, and fell to the rugged and uneven road, and they did not move, without a trace of vitality and vitality.

Yang Qing looked at the rugged and uneven road, and couldn't help but feel sad in her heart.

Isn't human life the same as falling leaves, and no one can escape or avoid such an ending, an extremely sad and sad ending.

She realizes that her life is not as good as falling leaves, and falling leaves know when they fall and when they lose their lives, but she cannot.

She wasn't sure if she would be able to make it to the end, she wasn't sure .......

The dilapidated and ancient temple is not big, and it looks extremely quiet and strange in the wild with fallen leaves, no people, and grass and trees.

A monk chanted in a low voice, silently knocking on the fish.

His voice was so quiet that no one could hear what he was reciting, as if he wasn't it, as if he was cursing, as if he was cursing, as if he was cursing .......

He seemed extremely careful and serious.

It was as if no one could disturb his sincere recitation, his sincere knocking on the fish.

Three people, three horses, and the dust galloped here and stopped.

The horses have gasped, and so have the men.

The three of them dismounted and walked towards the monk, and one of them pointed to his head and smiled.

"Great monk, you go out, hurry up, hurry up."

The monk was silent, still reciting, silently knocking on the fish.

"Today here is ours, you go out, as far as you go."

The monk was silent, still reciting, silently knocking on the fish.

The man seemed to be very distressed, and the scabbard suddenly knocked the monk's head, staring coldly at the monk's reaction.

"Bald donkey, hurry up, are you deaf?"

The monk's body suddenly trembled, trembling and chanting, trembling and knocking fish.

The man looked at the monk and did not react, and a smile had already appeared on his face, and the smile was indescribably vicious and fierce.

He laughed and coughed, and when he spat hard, a mouthful of yellow foam fell on the monk's face.

"Bald donkey, aren't you leaving? Do you want to go to hell? ”

The monk's body trembled violently, and the sound of the recitation gradually became louder, and the sound of beating the wooden fish slowly became louder.

Another person came over, smiled and slapped seventeen or eight times left and right, pointing to his crotch, "Bald donkey, crawl over." ”

"This monk is an honest monk, and we have to use honest methods to deal with it."

"What's the method?"

The knife slowly came out of its sheath, and suddenly there was a knife light.

Then it suddenly disappeared, disappeared alive, and the face of the man holding the knife still had a vicious, fierce smile remaining, but he had fallen softly, and he would not stand up when he fell, and he would never stand up.

The monk suddenly stood up, and the wooden fish suddenly floated.

It was as if he hadn't done anything, just stood up, still reciting, still knocking fish.

The two men were already retreating, and cold sweat was rolling down their foreheads.

It was only then that they heard what the monk was reciting, and it was not a scripture that he was reciting.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death......."

The wooden fish beat more violently, and the curse in its mouth became stronger, as strong as the curse of a super-powerful ghost in hell.

Heaven and earth are forested, and the fallen leaves are cloudy.

It was as if it had really become a torture hall for the evil ghosts in hell, and the two of them had their bodies and souls twitching.

There was no wind, and the fallen leaves drifted on their bodies, as if the whip of hell was whipping them, unspeakably ferocious and vicious.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death ......."

The monk's eyes were already rolling over the two men, rolling one by one.

It was as if they were going mad, they were about to collapse.

The monk gritted his teeth and screamed.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death........"

They drew their knives suddenly, only to find that they had been twisted and deformed.

The monk's screams became more excited and enthusiastic, and his eyes became brighter and more enthusiastic.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death......."

He seemed to have only one sentence, in fact, the monk only read this sentence, and there was only one sentence from beginning to end.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death......."

One of them seemed to have lost it any longer, and had completely collapsed and collapsed, and when he fell, he kept shaking, shaking like a willow branch in a strong wind.

The other person didn't seem to be much better than him, although he was trying his best to force himself to endure and control himself, his body didn't seem to tremble, and there was not much cold sweat on his forehead, but his mouth was already screaming in pain, not only did others not understand what he was saying at all, but he didn't even know what he was saying.

The heartbeat in his stomach seemed to be beating more strongly and violently than the sound of a wooden fish, and he gently touched his already hazy eyes, and looked at the monk seriously and carefully.

The monk is still chanting, still knocking fish.

But he knocked and knocked on the wooden fish, away from the stick.

The wooden fish is still beating.

It swayed behind the monk, like the tail of the monk, floating gently, as if it was held by a pair of invisible ghost hands.

The light in the monk's eyes became brighter, as bright as the Sen Senban teeth of a terrible ghost in hell, so bright that it was prostration and weakness.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death,......。"

The monk stopped looking at them and walked towards the dilapidated and quaint walls, with the wooden fish following behind.

There was no wind.

The man had quietly floated up to the wall.

The monk walked towards the person who was completely collapsed and collapsed, stretched out his hand and gently pulled, and one arm was pulled down by him alive, looking extremely relaxed, easy and skillful.

He held his arm, neither biting nor gnawing, and quickly wrote on the wall, writing the loneliness and emptiness in his heart.

The blood on his arm had flowed, and the pleasure of his writing didn't seem to subside, but his wheezing was thicker.

He writes with great care, neatness, and skill.

"Color is emptiness, emptiness is color."

"Where people are, nature is good."

"Zhao Qian, Sun Li, Zhou Wu, Zheng Wang."

"Guan Guan Ju Dove, in the state of the river. My Fair Lady, Gentleman. ”

"It's a good way, it's a very good way. The name is famous, and the name is not very famous. The beginning of the nameless world; The mother of all things. ”

......。

The blood had been drained, the monk was already gasping, and he threw his head aside, and then looked back at the person who had not gone mad and had not died.

The man's breath was more intense than that of the monk, and the muscles on his face had become indescribably strange and strange due to excessive distortion.

The monk smiled.

"Do you know who I am?"

The man was silent, shaking his head.

"Do you know I'm a monk?"

The man looked at the monk's head, then at the ink treasure on the wall, and then was silent, dumbfounded.

"Tell me, am I a monk or not?"

This man did not understand, and he did not dare to speak.

"Tell me, am I a monk?"

The fear in the man's eyes twitched even more violently, and he gritted his teeth and remained silent.

The monk no longer asked him, but was chanting and knocking fish.

"Knock you to death, knock you to death, knock you to death......."

This person lost consciousness and everything in the sound of chanting and the sound of wooden fish.

The last thing I saw was that the monk seemed to be very enjoyable, holding his bloody thighs and writing the wall, desperately happy and happy.

......。

The sun has set and the night has fallen.

There is no wind, and the chill is even stronger.

The lifeless stone statue stood not far away, straighter than the gun in his hand, his empty eyes without a trace of emotion, staring and poking in front like a gun.

It's hell ahead.

The dilapidated and ancient temple is not large, but the fonts on the walls are extremely dignified and neat, dignified and neat, so dignified that people can't look directly at it and can't face it.

The bloody font seemed to be alive, bleeding incessantly, and the long blood trail hit the ground, gradually sinking deep into the earth.

A monk chanted in a low voice, silently knocking on the fish.

There was blood everywhere, arms, thighs, .......

Yang Qing glanced at it and turned back, unwilling to look.

She threw herself into the arms of the lifeless, unwilling to come out, and did not dare to come out.

Neither is alive nor moving.

The monk has moved.

He chanted slowly, slowly came over, and the wooden fish came knocking over.

"The donor, the poor monk is polite."

Wusheng didn't seem to look at him, staring and poking into the distance with empty eyes like spears.

"I'm returning the salute."

"Donor, please."

"What are you going to do?"

"Please go to hell."

As the monk spoke, he swooped down on Wusheng like lightning and grabbed his arm.

Silent and standing like a stone statue.

A cloud of darkness was already fluttering, and when it floated over, a light suddenly appeared.

Sword light.

The sword sparkles, and the night is fluttering.

The chanting stopped, and the sound of the fish died down.

The monk had landed on the wall, smiling softly.

"I know who you are?"

The chivalrous flower fluttered slowly, and the long sword slowly entered the sheath.

"I know who you are, too?"

"Nightfall Flowers."

"Wave the book and blood flowers."