Jiang Shuying said: "There is no danger, she is resting." ”

After saying that, Jiang Shuying was about to leave, but after taking a few steps, a strong dizziness suddenly hit, and as soon as he took two steps, the whole person fell top-heavy.

Xiao Banxian was taken aback, and hurriedly reached out to catch her, "Master Jiang...... Master Jiang ...... "The little half-immortal called twice, but Jiang Shuying didn't react at all.

The little half-immortal flipped her over, Jiang Shuying's eyes were closed, her face turned white and blue, and her face was painful.

Xiao Banxian hurriedly picked her up, and Jiang Shuying murmured, "Send me back." ”

Although he was worried about Mo Liunian, Jiang Shuying's current appearance was really terrifying, and Xiao Banxian said loudly: "Xiao Mo, I'll leave for a while." ”

When Mo Liunian heard Xiao Banxian's voice, he immediately raised his strength and responded: "I'm fine, you can do it yourself." She lost three drops of blood in her heart, and when she shouted this, she couldn't lift her strength, panting slightly, and her whole body was cold, but fortunately she was in this hot spring.

Xiao Banxian hugged Jiang Shuying and noticed the injury on her wrist, and to his consternation, there seemed to be a faint demonic aura lingering on this wound.

The little half-immortal let Tianma carry Jiang Shuying and left quickly with questions, and those medicine slaves along the way showed surprised expressions when they saw this situation, and they didn't dare to ask more.

However, this matter quickly spread, and the little half-immortal saw that several of Jiang Shuying's junior sisters rushed over, especially Lin Ruonan, who was walking in front and was angry and wanted to devour the little half-immortal alive.

Xiao Banxian was completely convinced that if he hadn't been able to kill him at this moment, Lin Ruonan would have chopped him up and fed her three-legged bird.

Lin Ruonan turned his head and said hatefully to Qin Yuanshuang: "You should have killed this scourge a long time ago." ”

Qin Yuanshuang glared at Lin Ruonan, took Jiang Shuying's pulse, and immediately said to the little half-immortal: "Quickly send my junior sister to the Cave Heaven Blessed Land." ”

Xiao Banxian didn't dare to slack off, perhaps because there was a trace of vitality hidden in his body, and he could vaguely feel that the vitality in Jiang Shuying's body was getting weaker and weaker.

Returning to the blessed land of the cave as fast as possible, Xingyu and the ink painting had been waiting outside for a long time, the little half-fairy hugged Jiang Shuying, and the two women introduced the little half-fairy into Jiang Shuying's bedroom, the little half-fairy carefully put her down, Jiang Shuying snorted softly.

In the past, Jiang Shuying gave Xiao Banxian a sense of sacrosanctity, although she has always been very gentle, but Xiao Banxian always feels that there is a distance, Jiang Shuying is a very strong existence in his heart, but now Jiang Shuying gives people a very fragile feeling.

Xiao Banxian was just about to get up, Jiang Shuying suddenly opened his eyes, but there was no clarity in his eyes, and the whites of his eyes were all covered with bloodshots. She grabbed the neck of the little half-fairy, and although the little half-fairy could dodge, it was quite embarrassing to be very close.

"Childe, hold her down, my sister is in a demon. ”

Hearing Qin Yuanshuang's exclamation, Xiao Banxian didn't dare to hesitate, and directly grabbed Jiang Shuying's wrist and pressed her back on the couch.

Jiang Shuying struggled desperately, sharp fangs appeared in her mouth, and she also made a fox roar, Jiang Shuying, who was enchanted, was extremely powerful, and the little half-fairy was almost broken free by her several times, and finally suppressed her, but she was already almost pressed on Jiang Shuying, this posture was really embarrassing.

Although the scene was very chaotic, Xiao Banxian still noticed the wound on Jiang Shuying's wrist, he was afraid of touching the wound, but now he found that the wound had healed, but Xiao Banxian felt that this demonic qi seemed to be heavier.

The fate of the past life, the wish of this life, thousands of miles still surround my dreams. The pen refers to the time, the ink dyes the years, every word and sentence of lovesickness, the love is hidden, the love is full of years, and every string and column are affectionate.

Notes and hearts, word for word. The old things fell into the west window, gathered the memories into knots, and let the green silk dye the frost. Spring is gone, dreams are far away, the heart is lonely, and the soul is lonely. It is difficult to harvest when covered with water, and the fallen flowers cannot return to the branches. I am old, my love has not disappeared, and tenderness is floating in my dreams. Drunk in the dream of the smoke and rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the ink and rain, the smoke and rain. Dancing and chanting, half a volume of light ink, comic into a poem.

The corners of Yang Lushui's mouth slid blood, and a trace of pain flashed on her face, and then she smiled softly, smiling so happily and beautifully, as if the pain of a lifetime had finally been relieved, she reluctantly raised a jade hand, helped Duan Yuerong's face, and whispered: "The green water and the moon flow in spring, and the pearl flowers fall into the remnants of the jade." The soul returns to the mountains and tears and snow, and the king's love can last. ”

Flick a piece of the past, sing praises all the way, love a few lingering past, how many autumn flowers bloom the fragrance of the end of the year, and how much parting, how much time I hate, how many memories I have lost, but I can't describe the reflection of the passing years, and how much reluctance, tactfully infiltrated into my dreamland.

"Sit with the lamp and sit for a long time to remember the New Year. The mist cages the flowers are delicate and weeping, and the poplar branches are under the moon in the middle of the night. Urging too late to sleep. Haggard gone, who knows this hatred. Heaven and earth are full of hope, and the sound of Buddha and fire is sad. I have not dreamed of it. What she sang was the dream Jiangnan that Chu Wuchen sang in Danqiu. At the end of the song, the tears of the year were like rain, Li Xiaoyang whispered softly, and had nothing to say to the evening, only looking at the rain and cold moon on the Qingyin platform, in the smoke and rain building, full of guests, all bowed their heads and pondered.

The years are not old, the thoughts are not young, and the heart is still year after year; Time is secretly changing, the fate is unpredictable, and the memory is still full of top-notch; Shaohua smoke and clouds, fate comes and goes, it is you and me and him. In this scroll of time, we chase the rain wings of longing, the love of the passing years, or joy or idle sighs; in this paper, pen and ink, our thoughts are flying, the end of the world is boundless, and the cape is endless.

The smoke and rain pass through the south of the Yangtze River, the willows are knotted, and the wind is like snow. Since ancient times, he has hated spring and twilight, and he can fall into flowers. The wind blows the past a little bit. Floc, will tears drop by drop cream. There are many partings in the world, and the dust is difficult to think about. The cool breeze penetrates the window, the heart shadow hesitates, and the candle shadow shines. The figures are pale and shallow. In the depths of the smoke willows, the small bridge is shallow, and the bamboo shadows and flowers are fragrant. The smoke and water are 3,000 days away, and the bright moon still shines on the ancient city.

With a new heart, keep the time. The past years, the love in my heart, in the light smile and sigh, has become light. We only need to have a peaceful heart, let the flowers bloom and the leaves fall in a circular interpretation, and carry a cloud and water Zen heart, and let time fly into the myth of immortality.

Boil a pot of moonshine, drunk with joy and drunk with sorrow. The light moon is faintly shadowy, and the Lanting Post Station talks about the east fence. The wind passes through the flowers, like the story of the vicissitudes of the past; There are always some empty old things, and the years are not young; There are always seasons, a season when the flowers are cold, and the land is full of sorrow.

The evening breeze blows through the court, bringing up a few drops of tears buried in the dust, where the pen is copied, how many thin shadows caress the strings, and under the cold moon and clear light, what is played is always a desolate song. A lot of sadness, a lot of hesitation, these years of my light time, by the scenery along the way with a pen painting firmly remembered.

Drinking from noon to dusk, he drank more than half of the subordinates of the "alcohol test", drinking, drinking, Li Sheng suddenly felt a dizziness, his body shook involuntarily, and a sense of powerlessness hit. Read the latest chapter of "Life is Like a Play and Singing Claw Book House" for free for the first time.