The topaz worm the size of half a little thumb broke out of the amber-like topaz, as if it had been asleep for a long time, and woke up from a big dream, making a lazy chirping, glutinous, strange and good-sounding.

It should have been tired from the broken shell, and it gulped down the torn yellow shell, as if the yellow shell was very delicious, and it made a milk sound of satisfaction while eating.

Every time it nibbles a little bit of the yellow shell, it grows a little bit until it grows to the size of a thumb.

After that, the insect body began to change, and the color of the whole body became more and more yellow and pure, like ancient glass, without unnecessary impurities.

There is a small horn quietly emerging from the top of the insect's head, and a faint light halos on the horn, and the simple and complex lines can be vaguely seen.

The grooves flowed with a liquid slurry that trickled down from the tips of the horns and into the little heads of the insects with the twisting grooves.

The insect gives birth to three pairs of thin wings on the back of the cicada, which spread out like a light veil and vibrates like a thin jade. Smoke rises and mist drifts.

Through the clear light emitted by the unicorn horn, it can be seen that in the transparent wings, the threads are natural, and the trajectory is like an obscure ancient text, intertwined with one stroke at a time, painted into a beautiful leaf painting.

After eating, the topaz worm burped in satisfaction, and then began to turn in small circles, spit out wisps of emerald green silk threads as it turned, wrapping itself in layers like chrysalis.

The silk thread is smooth and silky, with a dull luster, and slowly intertwined regularly, like a skillful spinning girl, implemented into the most delicate links in every place, and slowly outlines the pupa into a vivid heart appearance.

The heart worm pupae are beginning to form, and the originally dim silk threads are moving little by little, dotted with countless star particles, flickering and shining.

Subsequently, the star grains were connected through silk threads, slowly gathered, fluttered at the same time, and even the light blended together, emitting a large emerald yellow brightness, and the vacuum area that was originally the size of a balloon also expanded its territory outward because of this bright light, making it a verdant yellow within five or six meters.

Suddenly, the heart chrysalis of the dead thing beat rhythmically, just like a human heart still working in the chest, and every time it beats, it emits a little more brilliance, like hematopoiesis.

And the emerald yellow light did not spread outwards anymore, but began to accumulate in this space, so heavy that it had to squeeze out the water.

The heart worm chrysalis gradually became blurred, and the image also turned into emerald yellow, melting into the light. The emerald yellow suddenly contracted and began to condense, turning into a mass of material that appeared to be yellow mud.

The yellow clay material is powerless to shape itself, like Nuwa Niangniang crossing the latitude of space and rubbing, pinching out the head, body, arms, and legs. It's like a human form.

It is said to be a clay figure, but it is a little vain, without a sense of substance, and a little transparent, just like the human appearance of the emerald green fog and smoke.

The mouth, nose, eyes, and eyebrows of the clay figure are very ordinary, and the patchwork face is also featureless, it can't be said to be ugly, but it can't be compared with handsomeness. Just this face, put into the vast sea of people, Duan Ran can't easily find it, the face of a typical ordinary passerby.

And this ordinary face in the dust is Chen Ping.

…………

"Old man, I look at my life, I have been beautiful, I have been down, I have died early, and I have no children under my knees. As late as the twilight years, I finally understood that coarse tea and light rice are the real life.

Since you and I are destined, you will follow my surname, and I will give you a flat word, I wish you a plain and plain life. ”

At night, an old man in a ragged shirt, leading the broken copper and iron in one hand and an abandoned baby in the other, walked on a path without lights.

Chen Ping saw all this clearly, he didn't know what was happening, but after that fatal pain, he was here, and the first thing he saw was such a scene.

Chen Ping recognized that this rickety old man was Grandpa Chen who pulled him to grow up, and the abandoned baby in his arms could hear the old man's words, and it was Xiao Chen Ping.

Chen Ping didn't make a sound, just silently followed the grandfather and grandson, and the grandson somehow didn't notice Chen Ping.

Following them all the way, they came to a dilapidated house, which was the residence of Chen Ping's childhood. Although it is tattered, it occupies most of Chen Ping's childhood.

Grandpa Chen put the baby Chen Ping on the thatched ground, such a place can barely be called a bed. Then, on the side, he made a bowl of vegetable soup for Xiao Chen Ping with a stove that was messily built with dirt, and the soup was vegetarian and not oily.

But Xiao Chen Ping is really obedient, except for blinking his eyes, he doesn't cry at all, he feeds him vegetable soup, he is also very accustomed to eating, and he won't spit out and waste it.

As the days passed, Xiao Chen Ping slowly grew up. He's still the same tattered kid who followed Grandpa's ass. Because of this, he was often bullied by children in the neighborhood, who threw stones at him and spat on him. He didn't resist, not that he didn't dare, but his grandfather often taught him that men, you have to endure.

He listened to his grandfather the most, and he has been like this since he was a child.

It may be that Chen Ping didn't eat the most nutritious breast milk, and he didn't get much meat foam, he was shorter than his peers since he was a child, and he looked like a malnourished cucumber, and he was thin. Perhaps, that's why he's always being bullied.

Xiao Chen Ping, who does not fit in with his peers, likes to read books and read everything.

And these books are all treasures that he and his grandfather got by scavenging, shouting and hesitating, Tao Te Ching, Zhou Yi He dabbled in them one by one.

But his favorite is Jin Yong Gulong's martial arts novels, flying eaves and walking walls, happy enmity, every plot is tightly gripped, the Condor West Crazy Broken Arm Hero, the ruthless swordsman and the amorous sword, every hero is deeply rooted in the hearts of the people.

Xiao Chen Ping's small heart fell into such a world, and he imagined that he was the hero in the book, punishing evil and promoting good, and fighting the sword world.

He imitated the heroes to practice martial arts, often fiddling with fists and embroidering legs, splitting bricks and hitting stones, although he was injured all over his body, but he was still happy.

Xiao Chen Ping's first toy was a wooden sword, which Grandpa Chen cut out for him with his own hands. The wooden sword is very good-looking, if it is not made of wood, it is easy to see, almost, it can be fake. The edges and corners of each place are as if they have been polished by a skilled carpenter, and they are very smooth, and they are comfortable to play with, and there is no stubble to prickly the hands.

Xiao Chen Ping, who got the wooden sword, was very happy, because this was the plaything he dreamed of. He believes that a hero without a sword cannot be called a hero. With a wooden sword, he is a hero.

Mu Jian became his partner day and night, and he was also his first friend. He fell asleep with the wooden sword, took the wooden sword to scavenge the waste, and whispered to the wooden sword, as if the wooden sword was not a cold plaything, but a flesh and blood soul...... Person.

However, his partner was broken in the process of being robbed by a nearby child. The hilt, the body, and the tip of the sword are broken, permanently broken.

This time, Xiao Chen Ping threw his grandfather's words out of the clouds, crying with anger in his voice, and he fought for his companions. It may have been the work of the long-term training, and he single-handedly beat the children who bullied him all over the ground.

But what's the use of all this? The loss of his best friend is Xiao Chenping's greatest sorrow. He carefully held the wooden sword and wrapped the corpse of his best friend with a washed white handkerchief, but the big tears still kept falling.

Another Chen Ping, who was in tears on the side, was also mourning for Mu Jian's friend, all of this was so vivid, all of this was his own experience.