No change is better change.

Because change is not change, and change is change.

The cold wind is blowing.

The heat and glow in her eyes were more intense, more unbearable, and impossible to face.

She seemed to be entangled and about to go crazy and crazy.

It was as if she was going to die, she couldn't do anything.

She didn't speak, she didn't have to speak, she didn't seem to bother to speak.

If you don't speak, you speak, you don't speak, and sometimes people don't say as much as what they don't say, and they are more effective.

The lifeless stone statue stood upright, and the stone statue was silent.

He was silent, but his body was already talking, saying that his blood was flowing, and blood-red blood was quietly flowing out, parting with his body and reuniting with the earth.

Drop by drop, they reunite with the earth.

The blood was gently parting, and he didn't seem to care, as if he didn't care.

So what does he care about?

What is he living for? What gave him strength and spirit?

Is it a loved one? Is it a lover? Are you a friend? Or an enemy? ......。

Feet on the ground, rustling, like an old man on the verge of death, the slightest bitter howl, weak, silent bitter howl.

She gradually approached the lifeless body, and gradually she was about to go crazy.

Crazy things seem to come out at any time, and once they do, they will go crazy endlessly and endlessly. It's like a river bursting its banks, out of control, out of control.

It was as if she had decided to go crazy, decided to go crazy on his body.

Without saying a word, he turned around like a stone statue, his ass facing her, unwilling to look at her, not even a glance.

The dark eyes were hollow, without a trace of emotion or pain.

Staring and poking into the distance like a gun.

It's pitch black in the distance, pitch black earth, boundless earth, endless pitch black.

The cold, cruel earth, the lonely, empty land.

If you don't move, you move, and if you don't move, you don't move.

If you don't say it, you say it, and if you don't say it, you don't say it.

The sky is forested, the night is deeper, and the loneliness between heaven and earth is stronger.

The spring water flowed quietly, and the bones inside were also swaying quietly, and their spirits and souls seemed to have turned into ghosts and floated away.

All that remains is silence, and the struggle and resentment that preceded death.

Soft Flower walked in front of him, right in front of him.

Slowly looking up at his body, looking up into his eyes, and the gun in his hand.

The body didn't move, the eyes didn't move, the gun didn't move.

Only blood moves.

"You can kill me."

"Why should I kill you?"

"Because I'm not a good person."

"Why aren't you a good person?"

"Because I've done a lot of bad things."

"How bad?"

"It's as bad as it can be."

"But you're a woman, I don't kill women."

"You admit I'm a woman?"

"I admit that you are a woman, I do not kill women."

"Then you must have another way to deal with women."

Silent without life.

He never liked to kill women, and he didn't like to use any method to deal with women.

Is there something wrong with him? Is there a problem with not killing women?

No one can understand, no one can really know what he thinks.

The starless night is even more lonely and empty, which can make most rootless prodigals lonely and empty crazy and collapse.

The color of loneliness is fluttering, and the cold wind is also fluttering.

Is she lonely?

She had gone mad, and she threw herself madly at Wusheng, crushing Wusheng under her body.

Wusheng gritted his teeth, struggled, gasped.

Didn't move, didn't speak.

She didn't speak, she didn't bother to speak, and she didn't have time to speak.

The mouth was desperately crazy, kissing his body madly, and the stone-like body did not change in the slightest.

But she was already wheezing, and the wheezing sound was getting thicker, and her chest was rising and falling violently.

Silent, he closed his eyes, unwilling to look at her again.

Her body trembled more violently and frantically than a willow branch.

Wusheng struggled to push her away, pushing far away.

Standing like a stone statue, silent like a stone statue, motionless like a stone statue.

There was not a trace of expression on his face, not a trace of disgust, boredom, boredom.

She stood coldly not far away, her body twitching coldly, twitching her love.

Love is sometimes like hot water in a pot, the hotter it gets, the more intense it rolls.

So is her love.

The hair has been messy, a few dead leaves floating on it and not leaving, and there is no parting if it is tightly glued.

The hair twitched violently, and the willow branches twitched violently.

She seemed to be about to go crazy with this love.

"You ......."

Neither is alive nor moving.

"Why don't you just kill me?"

Wusheng slowly opened his eyes, but he was already sighing.

"Why don't you pick up your gun and stab me to death?"

Silent without life.

"Are you a human or a ghost?"

Silent without life.

"You're a monster."

She smiled slowly, stupidly.

Gradually, the dance has been floating, the writhing is not big, but the fragrance wafting from the body is stronger.

He sniffed it, and it gradually became very fragrant, a fragrance that penetrated deep into the body and soul, and the fragrance made the body gradually soft and weak, soft and powerless to want to fall,......。

"You're fragrant?"

The soft laughed, "Yes." ”

Wusheng gritted his teeth and was silent, his body gradually weakened, and he had no strength at all.

"I know you're getting moving, and the cartilage is no longer working."

Silent without life.

"How? Doesn't it smell good? ”

Silent without life.

"As long as you meet me, you should be unlucky."

The dance had stopped, and she walked towards Lifeless, caressing her lifeless body.

Laughing stupidly.

Wusheng gritted his teeth and was silent.

"You know now that I'm not a good person, do you?"

She's not really a good person, not a good person.

A person who is not a good person will not do anything good, and she obviously does not look like a woman who does good deeds, from her feet to her head.

She just laughed stupidly.

Wusheng sighed softly.

A sword light floated not far away, and the sword light suddenly stopped again, and when it stopped, the smile on her face was distorted and deformed.

Her face suddenly changed, and it became terrifying.

The sword has been retracted, the sword light has disappeared, and the sword qi is gone.

The blood on the blade of the sword did not twitch violently, and fell drop by drop.

The blood hole covered by the soft flower brain melon is still flowing with blood, and wisps of white are slowly flowing out.

Her eyes were almost bulging, almost falling out, almost falling out of sight.

Half white, half black, slowly swaying, swaying, floating on the blood, swaying.

The blood flowed slowly, as if it was not in a hurry, and the blood in the nose, ears, and mouth was no faster than the eye sockets,......。

The sword in his hand was not in a hurry to sheath.

The wind slowly lifted up, and with a strong blow, the blood turned into a blood mist.

The blood mist was fluttering, and the smile on his face was fluttering.

There are not many swordsmen who blow blood on the blade, and there may be only one and only one in the rivers and lakes recently.

This person is a spring night.

He is one of the four heavenly kings in the parting spell, the Spring Festival Sword King.

The sword king who was high above had a smile on his face.

The sword slowly sheathed, and he stared at the lifeless, the lifeless body, the gun in his hand.

"We meet again."

Wusheng nodded.

"Didn't you think of it?"

Wusheng nodded.

Maybe it's not that he can't think of it, but he doesn't want to think about it, and he doesn't bother to think about it.

Things in the rivers and lakes are changing all the time, and they will become unfavorable to them at any time.

I'm going to die at any moment.

This generation's rivers and lakes may be like this, they are so cold-blooded and cruel.

"Do you want to know?"

Wusheng shook his head.

He didn't want to know.

Maybe it's not that he doesn't want to know, but he's too lazy to know, maybe the more things in the rivers and lakes know, the more trouble he will have.

He was not afraid of trouble, but he hated and was tired of it.

"Do you want to duel me now?"

He didn't look at Wusheng, he walked towards the Sword King, and he didn't want to hear his answer.

Silent without life.

He did not answer, because he had no right to answer.

A Jianghu person without a trace of strength seems to be meat on a cutting board, and he can only let others cut it, and he can't resist.

Speechless, standing like a stone statue, silent like a stone statue.

He fell suddenly, gritted his teeth, struggled hard, struggled to get up.

His body seemed to be able to stand hard, standing like a stone statue, motionless like a stone statue.

There was no sorrow in the empty eyes, no pain, and there was still nothing.

There may really be a kind of person in heaven and earth, no matter how great the blow, how deep the pain, how heavy the sorrow, he cannot make him give in, give in and fall, and never stand up when he falls.

Never.

There are so few such people, so few that there are almost none.

He wanted to grit his teeth, staring and poking at the spring night like a spear.

Chunxiao gently picked up the body of the Sword King, picked it up and suddenly fell down.

The cold wind was still drifting, the cartilage was not gone, he was powerless to take the bones, he was powerless.

He cried as he fell, and clung his head to the chest of the bones.

The cold wind is fluttering, and the tears are raining.

He wept loudly, but he didn't make a sound, and no one saw him crying.

There is no life, and no one else sees it.

But Wusheng had closed his eyes, and he didn't want to look at Chun Xiao anymore.

Although there were no tears in the spring night, the body shook violently, and the violent shaking seemed to be extremely sad and desolate in the cold and dark night.

Maybe he is not grieving for the Sword King, but grieving for himself, grieving his loneliness and loneliness.

A kind of loneliness and loneliness that penetrates deep into the body and penetrates into the bone marrow.

The four heavenly kings in the parting spell, the parting sword king, the robe-and-blood king, the fateful king, and his own Spring Festival Sword King.

What now?

Now there is only one Heavenly King left, and that is himself, the Spring Festival Sword King.

The Spring Festival is worth a thousand gold, and if the price of a killer is described in this sentence, it proves that the sword in his hand is by no means ordinary, and it is absolutely extraordinary.

What now?

His hand could no longer hold the hilt of the sword, and what was the swordsman who could not hold the hilt?

The cold wind is Xiao Xiao, and I don't know how long it took for his hand to have strength.

He picked up the bones and walked towards Wusheng, staring at Wusheng and staring at the gun in his hand.

"You're good, you're really good."

He finished his sentence and left.

What does he mean when he says well? Is it an expression of admiration? Does it indicate some kind of indescribable sadness? Or do you feel it? Nonsense?

No one to explain, no one to keep him on his feet.

The rustling of dead leaves on the ground is like an old man on the verge of death, howling bitterly, powerlessly and silently.