I want this light to be eternal.

It was dim and dark, and I don't know how long it was, maybe seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, or more.

Fang Yingxing didn't know that his last memory was Xu Qing's voice, with a crying voice, asking him to go back and return to her.

The voice grew stronger and stronger, and finally covered his entire world.

He snapped his eyes open, trying to find a familiar figure with those blurred eyes.

The light around him seemed to be very soft, and the body felt warm, and there seemed to be something soft underneath, and when I touched it with my hand, it was a thin layer of cotton spread on the straw.

He couldn't see things clearly, and the intense overload caused the eternal pupil to be severely damaged, although it was not dark, but his eyes were also full of blurs, and no matter how carefully he looked, he could only see the outline of things.

He sat up cross-legged, his hands sealed, and tried to operate the aura, but he quickly frowned, because the meridians in his body had been broken in many places, and even the aura could not function.

In other words, he can't use the Dao technique now, and he can't use the pupil technique, that is, he is an ordinary person with a strong physical body.

sighed, but he could understand, after all, it was a miracle to be able to survive the burial immortal's trick.

He probed the Eternal World, where the Gate of Light still stood, dimmed but undamaged.

At the moment when his cultivation fell, he recovered the Light Gate Protective Divine Sense in time, if it weren't for that, I'm afraid he would have already lost his soul.

While he was still thinking about how to recover next, an old but kind voice entered his ears.

"When you woke up, the people in the village saw you lying on the side of the road, so they sent you to me, this medicine is quite miraculous, you can recover from such a serious injury."

Fang Yingxing was stunned for a moment, he thought about how he came out of the burial immortal land, but after thinking about it for a long time, he still had no clue, and he didn't have any memory of that time.

He patted his head and saluted in the direction of the old man, after he probed just now, he found that the old man did not have any spiritual power fluctuations at all, that is, she was just a mortal.

However, after not getting a response for a long time, he raised his head slightly: "Mother-in-law? “

"Old woman, I, I couldn't see anything, but now my ears can't do it, haha, I'm getting old."

Fang Yingxing was stunned for a moment, this old woman couldn't see it like him, although his words seemed to be really complaining, but the tone was not like it at all, but there was a sense of optimism.

He twisted his joints, and when he found that there was no problem with moving, he got out of bed and tried to look around, although it was very vague, he could vaguely see that the house was simple, even rudimentary, with dirt on the ground and a golden layer on the roof, which seemed to be straw.

There is very little furniture, except for the straw bed that she sleeps on, there is also a layer of golden yellow on the ground, which is probably a temporary sleeping place for the old woman to give herself a disabled person, and she herself lays on the ground.

There is also a small round stool in the room, judging by the color, it should be wooden, small, and the shape is not very regular, Fang Yingxing guessed that it might be a missing piece.

Above the round stool is presumably a table, the same color as the round stool, with a mass of white objects neatly arranged on it.

Fang Yingxing asked the old woman with some curiosity.

The old woman smiled and replied, "That's a candle, the village doctor said your eye is hurt, but you can still see it, I dreamed of seeing a burning candle." “

Fang Yingxing was a little surprised, in such a humble and poor place, there were so many candles, it seemed a little too extravagant.

He learned that the old woman actually made candles and sold them, but in many cases she would sell them herself, because most of her customers were from the mountains, and electricity was not yet widespread.

Fang Yingxing looked at her blind eyes and aging legs, and took a deep breath in disbelief.

After a few days of recovery here, the injuries on the surface of Fang Yingxing's body have basically recovered, although the internal meridian injuries still haven't recovered, but to his relief, Erfeng's bell has been repairing his eyes.

After a few days of recovery, although he still can't use the pupil technique, his eyes can already see more detailed things.

When he could see clearly, the first thing that surprised him was the old woman's candle.

It was an old alleyway, with an ordinary breeze and a warm sunshine. Between the earthen walls of the rice roof, the old woman sat on a round stool, silently making candles. Her technique is so skillful that she is performing an ancient dance.

Candles are just ordinary things, but after passing through the hands of the old woman, they seem to have become a token of people's emotions. Branches, bundles, filled her workbench. From material selection, grinding, and wax melting to wire drawing and wax rolling, every step is meticulously detailed. The wax fragrance, faint, with the taste of time, seems to be able to travel through time and attract memories of the past.

Wax melting, like life, requires patience and perseverance. The wax slowly melts on the fire, just like the marks left on people's faces by the years. The red flame is the temperature of life and a symbol of hope. When the wax water slowly becomes smooth, it is like the old woman's heart that has gone through vicissitudes but is still soft.

Wire drawing is a tedious process. The iron spoon in the old woman's hand was like a magic wand, and the wax liquid flowed down from the spoon and gradually solidified into silk. This thread, like a little bit of life, connects the past and the future. Every trace embodies her hard work and sweat, and also carries people's expectations for light.

Wax rolling is the most artistic part. The thin wax silk fluttered in the old woman's hands, and finally turned into beautiful candles. Looking at her technique, she is calm and unhurried, as if she is in a dialogue with time. Each candle is like a portrayal of her inner world, full of deep emotions and insights into life.

Fang Yingxing didn't know how long it had been since he had watched something so fascinated, his eyes reflected one process after another, refusing to let go of any details.

Even the candles can't be seen with his eyes, but he is so skillful.

Recently, he has often helped the old woman carry materials and do some manual work, and his relationship with her has become much closer.

In fact, like most people, he didn't quite understand why a mortal, who was still blind, would do this, when her own savings were enough to support her.

Fang Yingxing also learned from the old woman that this place did not seem to have left the management area of Tianzi City, and from the geomorphology, Fang Yingxing speculated that it was the edge of Missen, because there were not too many trees here, but there were still many mountains.