Jun Qianqiang resisted the urge to laugh and said: "The arrangement in the forest contains the meaning of the five elements of gossip, as if it is a hand talk, and the hand talk is Go, the black and white pieces seem to be scattered, but they are in a vein, and we are here." Saying that, he held the white son in his hand and knocked it down softly, and at this time, the white child seemed to be in the shape of a dragon, and he had already run through the chessboard. Jun Qian raised his hands and threw the chessboard into the air, the chessboard suddenly expanded, and there was a great tendency to overwhelm the world, and under the white son was the road to pass, Jiu Su only felt a sound on the ground, and raised his eyes to see that the peach forest was slowly spreading to both sides, revealing a stone staircase, winding forward, under the white child, seeing this, Jiu Su clapped his hands stunned, and didn't know what to say.

Jun Qian held the jade fan in his hand, smiled chicly, leaned over slightly, and signaled Jiu Su to be in front of him, Jiu Su raised his eyebrows slightly, and took the lead in stepping on the stone steps.

Not as ethereal as the peach forest, the pure white mandala Hua has a unique romance, like a dream, the fragrance of flowers is mixed with wine, which will make people laugh and see the most beautiful things in their consciousness.

Aster slowly woke up from her slumber, the sunlight was slightly dazzling, stretched out her hand to block it, and then slowly propped herself up, looked around, she was in the midst of the flowers, and her eyes were warm and white, endless, boundless, elegant and beautiful.

Ling You also woke up faintly, sat up, picked up the dragon bone jade fan that fell beside him, and then smiled faintly and raised his hand to caress the blooming mandala next to him.

The two got up slowly, each strolling in the flower field, looking left and right, but neither looked back. The two are in the same flower field, not far apart, but they are facing each other, and they both say that creation makes people, and if you miss it, it will be a lifetime.

Aster holds white silk in her hand, and gently brushes it on the flowers, and the soft touch makes her palm slightly itchy. Lingyou walked slowly in the flower field, feeling happy, feeling the spring breeze dancing lightly with the hair, and feeling the petals jumping on the fingertips. Although they knew that there must be a mechanism in this thousands of miles of flower fields, they tacitly did not deliberately look for it, but just followed the call of nature.

To communicate with nature, open all your senses, listen to the whispers of the mandala, feel the gentle singing of the breeze, close your eyes lightly, follow your heart, and take your heart as your eyes, so that you will not get lost. The two of them walked separately, sat on the ground when they were tired, and lay in the middle of the flower field when they were tired, feeling the fragrance of flowers. Xu is the arrangement of fate, Xu is the deliberate trick of fate, the two have walked the road they have walked with each other, and they have caressed each other's petals, but they have missed the time after all. The two of them stopped under a beautiful bamboo building, but one was in front of the building, one was behind the building, one was to the left, and the other was to the right.

Flowers bloom for a thousand years, flowers fall for a thousand years, flowers and leaves, never see each other. The mandala flower, warm and white, pure and beautiful, is full of sadness that can never be met, feelings that cannot be expressed, and memories that cannot be recalled. A flower and a leaf, the origin and extinction, seem to be two parallel lines, waiting for eternal life, but they will never be seen.

Fate sometimes likes this, obviously there is only one exit, but it is divided into two different roads, no intersection, Ziyuan is to go with his heart, Ling You is to find that the petals of that road seem to be different from others, the two stopped in front of a magic mirror, if the time is shortened by half an hour, they can meet, and now, after all, it is just a pure white dream.

If the mandala is the symbol of the dream heaven, then the fiery manjushwa is the messenger of the blooming hell. Different from the white of the mandala flower, the manshu sawa has a dazzling red like blood, like a fire in the sky, and it is a flower born under the three-life stone and on the other side of the Lethe River.

In the sea of flowers, hollyhock slowly woke up, when the head seemed to touch the stone wall, at this time it felt a little painful, stabilized the mind, looked around, the mountain of Manshu Sawa seemed to be raging fire to burn her out, under the ignition of the fireworks, only felt the heart eager, both eyes are bewitching red, hollyhock looked around, although the flowers bloom all over the field, the foot is thick snow, the cold wind is mixed with fine smoothies, slightly biting, not far away is a beautiful bamboo building, up and down three floors, all made of green bamboo, particularly conspicuous in a fiery red, the candlelight in the house is flickering, the tempting aroma floats out of the house, the entrance hangs with wind chimes, from time to time there are bursts of crisp soundsAs long as you enter the house, you will not be affected by this biting cold wind, sitting at the window drinking hot tea and watching the snow.

If ordinary people would have chosen this way, hollyhock was not, she didn't want to hide in the building, she just wanted to walk in a sea of fire, and feel the eagerness of Manshu Sawa in person. As the saying goes, Manshu Sawa is the flower of despair, but she does not feel lonely and sad, she only feels that her heart is surging, the sparks are burning the plains, Rao is the cold wind can not extinguish the fire of the heart, the dazzling red lotus fire surrounds her, the right road is the east, and the fire in the heart is burning, everywhere is the east.

The flowers on the other side bloom, the flowers bloom on the other side, or pure white, or ardent red, either way, they all tell the grief of parting. There is a kind of flower, the poignant depiction of life and death vividly, in the wind and rain whispering sad songs, the world said that she is beautiful but quenched, but who knows that under the glamorous appearance is endless sadness, she always sings in the dark night, she has a beautiful name, poppy.