The dead tree burned fiercely and frantically, without a trace of weakness.

She was already laughing, jumping, and screaming madly in front of the firelight, as if she were no longer a Meng Po, as if she were a witch, and witches liked to shake their tongues, and so did she.

Yang Qing suddenly broke free from Wusheng's embrace and pounced on Meng Po hard.

Meng Po didn't react, and she didn't have time to react, she only saw a shadow rushing over frantically, holding herself down, and slapping her cheeks constantly.

When a person is overly proud and overly cheerful, he is always a little sluggish, and Meng Po is no exception.

But she really didn't expect that such a thing would happen, in her impression, Yang Qing was a coward, and a coward would not make a move.

But she was wrong, cowards have their own anger, and once they are angry, they become less timid, perhaps bolder than they think.

When they separated, Yang Qing's clothes were almost torn, her mouth kept panting, and her anger did not fade.

The fingertips were covered with blood, but it was impossible to tell whose blood it was.

Wusheng slowly picked her up, staring and poking at Meng Po's body.

Meng Po didn't have a trace of a smile, gritted her teeth and stared at Wusheng, the blood at the corners of her mouth was already drifting, but she didn't know if it was her own or someone else's.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

Silent without life.

"You can kill me and go again."

Silent without life.

Meng Po sneered, cold, cruel and vicious, "Do you think I can say it like this?" ”

Silent without life.

He turned abruptly and stopped looking at her.

Meng Po touched the claw marks on her body, and suddenly floated towards the firelight, and as soon as she raised her hand, the huge dead wood suddenly floated over.

The fire was still roaring into the sky, and she hugged it alive.

Deadwood Dance suddenly shot at Wusheng, "If you don't make a move, do you look down on me?" ”

The lifeless stone statue turned around, raised its feet like a stone statue, and the stone statue remained motionless, and the fire-filled dead wood had stopped.

Yang Qing's body was already writhing, and the wound seemed to be even more painful by the fire, "Why don't you make a move?" ”

Silent without life.

There was no trace of emotion in the empty eyes, staring and poking at the dead wood, the dead wood that burned violently.

"Isn't it comfortable?" Meng Po seemed to be very comfortable.

Silent without life.

The hand didn't move, and the gun in the hand didn't move.

He didn't seem to have a trace of comfort, let alone a trace of discomfort.

"If you don't make a move, you'll be burned alive." Meng Po's tongue curled longer, "That little girl in your arms will also be burned to death." ”

What she said was the truth, and the leg of Wusheng was gradually burning.

Yang Qing's eyes gradually showed pain, she gently wiped the sweat from the corners of her forehead, and then wanted to break free of her embrace, but found that he hugged him tighter.

"If you don't make a move, I'll make a move, I'm not afraid of her now."

Wusheng sighed deeply.

He kicked violently, the dead wood slammed into the tombstone, the sparks flew and the darkness of the night seemed to twitch violently.

Meng Po was surprised.

She really didn't expect that the power of that kick would be so great.

The cold wind was blowing, and the broken dead wood was not extinguished, but burned more vigorously.

She stared at Wusheng, unable to speak.

Wusheng suddenly walked towards Meng Po, standing like a stone statue not far away, motionless like a stone statue.

The hand didn't move, and the gun didn't move.

Only those eyes moved.

No matter who it is, what kind of ghost it is, it will not be comfortable to be stared at by these eyes, as if it is being poked by a gun, poked hard, poked with life, poked faintly painful.

Lifeless eyes were already staring at her like spearheads.

There was nothing wrong with his expression, but there was a big problem with his eyes.

While one eye is staring at someone else's face, the other eye is staring at the chest; While one eye is staring at the chest, the other eye is staring at the crotch.

Whether it's a human, a ghost, or a monster, as long as you are stared at by these eyes, you can't help but go crazy and vomit, and she is no exception.

Her chest was heaving violently, and her breathing grew thicker.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't understand?"

Meng Po doesn't understand, maybe no one can understand the meaning of the stone statue.

"I mean very simply, I don't kill women."

Meng Po gritted her teeth, and there was a sudden sly look in her eyes, "You won't kill me?" Just because I'm a woman? ”

"Yes, my gun is not willing to kill women."

Meng Po sneered, "What if I kill you? ”

Wusheng stared at Meng Po's hand and stared at Meng Po's sneering smile, "You can't kill me." ”

The sneer at the corner of Meng Po's mouth was even stronger, and her hand suddenly stretched out, and she moved softly, not far away.

There are no people and no ghosts not far away, only tombstones.

The tombstone suddenly came into her arms, and she suddenly hugged the tombstone and threw herself into the lifeless.

She hugged the tombstone as if she was an abandoned resentful woman holding her child, and she pounced on the negative man with her life and life.

At the moment when she seemed to be leaning on her lifeless body, she seemed to find herself on the cold, stiff earth.

There were seven or eight more tombstones in his arms.

The lifeless stone statue walked towards Yang Qing, picked Yang Qing up, and no longer looked at her.

She seems to have really become a Meng Po, a Meng Po that no one cares about and no one looks at anymore.

Wusheng didn't look at her anymore, and Yang Qing didn't want to look at her either.

She tried to breathe, screaming and roaring, "You must not die well, you must not live long, I will still look for you, I will eat you alive, piece by piece,......。 ”

The cold wind is blowing.

The trembling of her body had gradually subsided, and a warm color appeared in her eyes.

"Why don't you speak?"

Silent without life.

Suddenly stopped, staring, poking ahead.

Yang Qing rubbed her eyes and stared ahead, a pitch black had appeared in front of her, and the dark shadows were fluttering, as if the souls in hell could not be reincarnated, wandering in the dark night, enduring loneliness and loneliness.

"You're good."

"I'm not good."

"Your gun is good."

"Where's my gun?"

"Where are your guns good?"

Speechless, empty eyes were already staring and poking at this person.

"Is your gun going to be good forever?"

Without saying a word, he had hugged Yang Qing tighter.

Yang Qing had already felt that every fingertip of Wusheng had slowly touched the root muscles.

The cold wind howled, and the earth was dead black.

The man's voice was darker, dark and cold, "You can give me that painting, I promise you won't get involved in it." ”

Wusheng stared and poked at the darkness, and slowly leaned over.

Pitch black man, pitch black knife.

The blade was not shiny, and the hand holding the knife did not move.

There was no light in the night, but Yang Qing knew that there would be light at all times.

There is no light, but there is already a murderous intent, murderous aura, and murderous intent.

Murderous machine.

Forceful murderous aura.

Forcing killing intent.

If it is not a knife that wants to kill people, there will be no such phenomenon, it is not a knife that kills countless people, there will be no such phenomenon, it is not a knife with confidence and courage, there will be no such phenomenon.

The knife did not move, and neither did the man.

The cold wind is moving, and the cold wind is fluttering.

Standing seven feet away like a lifeless stone statue, staring and poking at this person, this person did not feel a trace of feeling, as if there was no trace of fear.

This man stared at the scroll in Wusheng's hand, staring very carefully and carefully.

"You like this painting very much?"

"Yes, I can accept that you give it to me, and I will not refuse your kindness."

The man spoke in a loud tone, disgusting, vomiting, as if he often rejected the kindness of others.

He rejects the kindness of others, like a chaste, proud spring-like goddess, and rejects the intimacy of a prodigal son who has no money, no house, and no status.

Wusheng suddenly stared at and poked at this person's knife, "Your knife is good." ”

The man was silent.

"The hand that holds the knife is not bad."

The man was silent.

"I can accept your duel, you can make a move, I will not refuse your kindness."

The man smiled coldly, "You want to duel with me?" ”

Silent without life.

"My knife hasn't rusted yet."

Silent without life.

"No matter what kind of person you are, you can kill it."

Silent without life.

"You can die under my blade."

The cold wind was even more urgent, and there was already a faint sound on the blade, the sound of the cold wind rubbing against the sharp blade.

This kind of voice is not long, and there are not many people who have this kind of knife in the rivers and lakes.

Most of the people who have this kind of knife are very lonely and lonely, because the hand holding the knife rarely leaves the hilt, maybe not for a moment, or even never, until they die, and maybe they will not leave.

Wusheng knows this knife very well, and he understands this knife as well as he knows his own gun.

It's all very lonely, very lonely.

He sighed deeply, "You can make a move, I am willing to die under your blade, and your knife must want to kill me too." ”

The man nodded, and the blade slowly lifted to his mouth.

He blew softly, and suddenly the blade floated out, a light and cheerful sound.

This is a good knife, and the blade must have enjoyed the blood of many masters.

Yang Qing glanced at it, and didn't dare to look at it, although this person is a person, he is the kind of person who puts pressure on people.

If people are classified into two categories, one is the murderer and the other is the person who is killed, then this person is the kind of person who kills.

He lived as if to kill.

The blade was still whispering, and he was no longer blowing.

"You want to die under the blade?"

The knife hung down slowly, limply, motionless.

In the cold wind, a straw suddenly floated over and pounced on the blade, but the knife did not move, and the straw magically ended in two and fell to the ground.

When it falls to the ground, it is motionless, like dead flesh.

Even the cold wind doesn't even want to roll it up.

It didn't take long for Yang Qing's heart to calm down, and now he jumped up inexplicably, violently and crazy.

She believed that the knife must be powerful, perhaps more powerful than all the knives she had ever seen.

Whether it is a person in the rivers and lakes or a ghost in the rivers and lakes, when encountering such a knife, it may change a little.

Whether it's the body or the mind, there will be a point.

She suddenly brought her chest closer to Wusheng, wondering if Wusheng had changed now.

There is no change, not a trace.

It was only herself who had changed, and her heart was beating wildly.

Wusheng caressed her body, touching it very lightly, and her body trembled strangely and mysteriously, an extremely exciting, cheerful kind of mystery.

Yang Qing suddenly kissed Wusheng on the neck, "Let's not provoke this person." ”

Silent without life.

His fingertips had touched her body harder, and she could already feel the slightest cramping pain in those muscles.

She hissed softly, "I'm ......." ”

She didn't want the pain in her body to affect her lifelessness, not at all, let alone dare.

Wusheng suddenly stared at Yang Qing, and Yang Qing was startled.

She couldn't figure out why she was staring at somewhere else now when she was facing such a strong enemy.

What made her even more incomprehensible was that Wusheng had actually spoken.

"His knife may not be as good as a cook."

Yang Qing couldn't have imagined that Wusheng would say such a thing.

As he spoke, the man walked over like a stone statue, approached the knife, and passed by the knife.

It was as if he knew the knife wouldn't strike.

The moment she passed by the blade, Yang Qing deeply felt the muscles on her body inexplicably shrink and twist.

People have drifted farther and farther away.

Yang Qing's body had not yet woken up from its fear. "How do you know he's not going to make a move?"

Silent without life.

A light smoke floated upstairs.

The cold wind on the long street is more urgent, and the chill is already heavier.

A man shrunk in the corner, staring at the sugar-fried chestnuts in the basket, his hair was gray, and his hand holding the basket was almost withered, withered like a withered flower, without a single petal.

Wusheng lit the fire, and took a quilt and draped it over Yang Qing's body.

Yang Qing smiled quietly, smiling extremely sweetly, cheerfully and contentedly.

She suddenly stared at lifeless lips, staring silently, her expression becoming strange and enthusiastic.

If a woman has this phenomenon, it means that her body has also changed, and she is no exception.

She gasped slowly, a faint pain on her cheeks.

Speechless, as if not aware of this change.

He poured a cup of boiling hot water and brought it to Yang Qing, without saying a word.

Yang Qing took the teacup and stared at his eyes, as if she wanted to fix her mind into his eyes, "Don't go away." ”

Wusheng didn't walk away, he slowly stretched out his hand and caressed her scarred body, which suddenly trembled a lot, and the soreness in his eyes seemed to be even more intense.

Yang Qing's hand suddenly let go, as if he was unable to hold it.

The teacup did not fall to the ground, but fell into the hands of the lifeless.

His hand was still extremely calm, steady and mysterious, and her neck gradually began to shake mysteriously, and her cheeks became hotter at some point.

Wusheng handed her the teacup, sighed deeply, and suddenly turned around and walked to the window, staring and poking outside.

Yang Qing touched her cheek and blinked, the expression on her face was already smiling.

Her smile seemed to be very sour, and it seemed to be very distressed.

She stared at the fire and took a shallow sip of tea, "Why are you here?" ”

"It's safe here."

Yang Qing looked at the melon seeds, peanuts, and rice cakes in the sewing plaque...... It has been eaten, and the empty needlework plaque is still there, without a trace of change.

The wine and food on the table have been taken away, and only one jar of daughter red is wafting with the fragrance.

This is the private room of the yamen, and the yamen is on the side.

Yang Qing didn't expect Wusheng to come here.