The wind and rain were miserable, and thousands of raindrops continued to smash on the roof of the pavilion like beads, and there was a dense muffled sound, and the rising cornices were like a huge pair of scissors cutting through the rain curtain. An immovable gust of wind blew the rain curtain into the pavilion, wetting the vermilion pillars and the gray stone brick floor.

The candle flame is swaying, the wind and rain are howling outside the house, the light and darkness in the room are uncertain, a person holding a pen is standing in front of the wall and waving his arms, every pen is a water, every pen is a broken house. He had already painted most of the huge wall, under the dim light, the flood on the wall was raging, countless houses were washed down into the gushing river, in the farthest sky, there was a white white wall, from the whole painting this is a curtain of water gushing down from the sky.

The heavens are falling apart, the heavens are pouring down, what kind of terrible apocalyptic scene is this?

The pen is a terrible hell on earth, but the man who painted it is expressionless, and he has never hesitated to write a pen, every stroke is smooth, as if this painting is in his heart, and he has described this painting a thousand times.

There was another gust of wind, and the man's robe was blown up by the wind, and he raised his arm to draw a stroke, and suddenly said softly, "Stop." ”

His pen was extremely long, and as the ink slid down, the wind and rain outside suddenly became smaller, and the moment the pen stopped, the last drop of rain fell on the tile.

The man threw the pen away, brushed his sleeve and left.

When Song Liuguang woke up, it was dawn.

She ate a whole drunken crab, washed her face, kicked off her shoes and socks, and climbed into bed and fell asleep.

Half-asleep, she heard music in the distance, strange but as if she had heard it, the sun shining on her face, her eyelashes trembling slightly, but still in her dream.

Suddenly there was a light all around, and the sound of music echoed in her dreams, and she tried to think about where she had heard the melody, but it was very difficult to think about it in her dreams, and she forgot about it as she thought about it.

A flute sounded through all the chaotic music, like a knife that cut off all the chaos, the high platform, the long sword, the blue grass, the silver bell, she suddenly remembered, the beautiful face that appeared with the sun, it was him, it was me, how could I forget?

The man laughed, "Why are you still here?" you promised to dance for me. ”

Song Liuguang opened his eyes suddenly, and in an instant, all people and things were gone, only the cyan curtains.

Dreams?

She suddenly realized that the music had not stopped, and Song Liuguang sat up and turned her head to look to the right.

The window was wide open, and Ling Yanluo was sitting by the window drinking tea.

He was wearing a black and green gauze smock, lined with a dark robe in the middle, and a hosta on his head was full of green silk, and in the bright sunlight, he seemed to have become the person in the painting thousands of years ago.

He put down the teacup and looked back: "Are you awake? Then wash your face and eat breakfast, the festival has begun, you can save some stomach for snacks." ”

Song Liuguang climbed down from the bed, half-kicked his shoes, and staggered to the back of the screen in the corner of the room to wash his face.

After washing Song Liuguang, he walked to Ling Yanluo and sat down, touched the bun and ate it with his eyes half-closed.

After eating two steamed buns, Song Liuguang suddenly came to his senses, looked around, and then leaned out of the window: "It's started?"

Song Liuguang jumped up, and began to look for a coat to put on, the pale yellow coat she wore yesterday in her hand suddenly broke free of her hand and flew away, and a lake-green skirt was handed to her.

"Fengguo Shangshui, wear this color. ”

Ling Yanluo rubbed the pale yellow coat into her sleeve and continued to drink tea.

Song Liuguang tied his coat and belt, and his shoes and socks were changed by Ling Yanluo.

"Master, what are you putting in your sleeves?" Song Liuguang was wearing a lake-green brocade skirt, with two ribbons hanging down from the shoulders to the calves behind his back, and rolling bells were embroidered on them, which jingled when he moved.

The sleeves are also embroidered with patterns that have never been seen before, like a swastika pattern but different.

All in all, the clothes of 3,000 years ago are really still quite different from today.

Three thousand years ago, the skirt turned like a blooming flower, and three thousand years later, Song Liuguang once saw the daughters of powerful families going out, and it was difficult to walk with complicated and luxurious clothes.

"Loaded with a lot of things," Ling Yanluo stood up, his right hand moved in the left sleeve again, his hand turned over, spread out, it was a pair of butterflies swaying, the blue porcelain wings were brilliant, the whole butterfly was lifelike, and the next moment it was about to flutter its wings and fly away.

Song Liuguang reached out to take it, but the pair of butterflies really flew up, she tilted her head, her hair that slept messily seemed to be smoothed by a hand, the hair was scattered, and it was quickly braided, and finally two delicate buns were coiled on Song Liuguang's head, and the butterfly swayed in the air and gently inserted into her bun.

Song Liuguang shook his head, felt the swing of the step, and happily ran to the mirror to look.

A handsome and beautiful little girl appeared in the mirror, "Master, why do you know everything?"

Ling Yanluo straightened her sleeves, thought about it, and still said: "As long as you are my apprentice, these will be taught." ”

"What's in my sleeve is yours too. ”

Song Liuguang smiled hippie: "Then you have to think about it again." ”

The Water Dragon Festival is a grand festival to worship the guardian beast of Fengguo, Yinglong, on this day, everyone has to bathe and change new clothes, and go to the riverside to watch the sacrifice.

A large city of hundreds of thousands of people is empty on this day, the streets are full of flowers and fragrant grass, and each household places it at the door with a copper basin full of water, and prays and makes wishes for the dragon devoutly.

On this day, the city set up a high platform to sing a big opera, singing Ying Long Tongling, Ying Long helped the lord of the country to lay down the country, Ying Long and the lord signed a blood alliance, and Ying Long escaped into the river and sea four folds play.

Ling Yanluo led Song Liuguang to walk in the crowd and walked towards the river.

It was the first time for Song Liuguang to walk among so many people, and half of the 100,000 residents in the city ran away on the eve of Qingzhou City's attack, and that was not as good as this time.

Three thousand years, it has been so prosperous.

Everyone had a look of excitement on their faces, and people in bright new clothes either walked towards the stage or went to the river.

Ten long streets, each of which is extremely wide, the people on the side say that this is the ten Shinto roads that existed when the Lingcheng was first established, and the divine soldiers of the first lord of the country were divided into ten columns to step through the Lingcheng, advance to the north, and lay down the country.

Ling Yan gave Song Liuguang a small silver ingot, and then Song Liuguang was like a cow and sheep out of the circle, spreading his feet and running towards the sugar man stall on the side of the road.

A group of little kids hung colorful sachets around the side of the candy man stall and made a noise, Song Liuguang waited for a long time before squeezing in and asked for two Shenlong adults.

Doesn't it mean that you have to treat Shenlong respectfully, and if you want to drop Shenlong-sama's head in one bite, is it disrespectful?

Song Liuguang looked at the little kid next to him biting the ground, and immediately put his worries behind.

She held up the two Divine Dragon Lords and turned back excitedly: "Master, look-"

In the vast sea of people, where is there still the shadow of Ling Yanluo?