Mo Liunian and Xiao Banxian looked at the one in front of them dumbfounded, their bodies and chests were full of blood, but they locked him tightly with their arms, so fast that they didn't have time to see their expressions clearly.

As soon as Su Ming moved, purple-black blood began to pour out from his wounds, and he himself was no longer able to take care of it, and the blood that flowed out quickly stained the sleeves of his shirt and flowed all the way down his hands.

His face became more and more ugly, and the cold sweat on his body became more and more, and even the coat he draped over his body was soaked.

If it weren't for Wan'er to bandage the wound in time, ordinary people would have bled so much at this time, and they would have hung up a long time ago.

He looked around, his gaze gradually changing from vigilance to quietness, and after a while, he finally let go of the hand that held the hilt of Tai'a's sword and let out a long sigh.

Because Su Ming saw the arrival of Mo Liunian and Xiao Banxian, the wound under Su Ming's shirt was torn open as soon as he moved, and where no one could see it, the blood was slowly oozing out of the bandage.

Wan'er hurriedly ran over and pressed the wound with her hand.

At this time, Su Ming's face showed how painful the pain on his arm was, it hurt hotly, and even the sleeves were oozing blood.

Holding his right arm with his left hand, he couldn't help but hum in pain.

Wan'er, who originally looked seventeen or eighteen years old, seemed to be suddenly more than ten years old at the moment, and her originally ruddy face seemed to be much paler.

"Wan'er, ...... you" Mo Liunian didn't know what to say when he saw the scene in front of him.

Mo Liunian knew how painful it was when the wound was torn again.

If the pain caused by tearing again will not be reduced at all, the heart-rending pain will be unbearable for ordinary people.

Su Ming's face was pale, his body trembled, and he was enduring unbearable pain at this time.

There was a sharp pain in his arm, and when he looked down, the rain fell on his body, and the whole person was wet, and the blood stained the ground under his feet, and half of his body was cold.

He bit his lip and didn't snort.

It hurt so much that beads of sweat the size of soybeans appeared on his head, but he still bit the few remaining teeth and refused to scream.

Wan'er staggered, and when she saw Su Ming's arm, her tears flowed.

When Wan'er saw Mo Liunian and Little Half-Immortal, she immediately said in a pleading tone: "Mr. Mo, Brother Half-Immortal, please save him!"

Wan'er knelt on the ground and begged the two, Wan'er invited the best doctor in the city to come and see her, but with such a serious injury, the doctor couldn't do anything.

Before leaving, the doctor said that maybe the little demixian of the feng shui pavilion could save his life, so Wan'er ran to the feng shui pavilion in the middle of the night to ask for someone, and saw that she was kneeling on the ground and kept kowtowing to the little demixian.

"Wan'er, what's going on?" Xiao Banxian squatted down and probed Su Ming in Wan'er's arms, his breath was like a gossamer, and his pulse was faint and almost unfelt.

Wan'er's right hand kept pressing on Su Ming's abdomen, her face full of panic, "He was stabbed with a dagger!"

Xiao Banxian stood up, Mo Liunian grabbed Xiao Banxian, although he knew the result, he still didn't give up and asked, "Boss, do you have a way to save Su Ming?"

Xiao Banxian shook his head, he really had no choice, although he knew a lot of Taoism, but after all, he could not defeat the Mandate of Heaven, let alone turn things around, although he often faced this kind of life and death, but he was never able to stop his heart, especially when he watched a life disappear in front of him but there was nothing he could do.

"Maybe this is really providential...... "Little Half-Immortal suddenly muttered.

Xiao Banxian raised his head at this time, looked at Wan'er and Mo Liunian and said slowly: "Mr. Mo, maybe I have a way to save him! ”

Mo Liunian was stunned, but when he saw the death-like look in Wan'er's eyes, he immediately realized something, and said excitedly: "No, absolutely not!"

Wan'er smiled slightly, "Mr. Mo, when fate is always over, I am very happy to know you and Mr. Half Immortal, I have no regrets to see Ah Hao again, I can finally explain to my master and my sisters, I am very tired, even if I don't save Ah Hao, I will not live long, let me do the last thing for Ah Hao." ”

Mo Liunian looked at Wan'er, and a tear slipped from her eyes.

Prosperous Shengge, counting the passing years, Wan'er seems to have made a decision at this moment.

The other side is lonely, fragmented and incomplete, and thoughts are swaying ink at the fingertips.

The sun of spring has a hint of vitality.

The summer sun has a hint of coolness.

The autumn sun brings a hint of harvest.

The winter sun has a hint of warmth.

Your arrival is a little heartwarming.

There is no you on the other side, there is no self on this shore, the prosperity is gone, and it has been a strange way.

On the Lan Zhou, who is playing a parting song?

The glass is gone, all the past is like a cloud, and occasionally there is a rain of smoke.

In the gallop of life, looking back, the story has ended.

Therefore, everything, whether it is bitter pain or happy happiness, will suddenly turn into a warm current, warm the heart that has been tired in the years, and soothe the soul that has been injured.

The memory is shallow, and only in a casual situation will I think of it as if I didn't think about it.

Running water in the year.

Just like that, I don't look back, and I take it away, and there is still the most beautiful time.

Time, because of the distance between the mountains and rivers, was divided into two sides of the strait. This shore is the cold smoke of autumn water, and the other shore is already red like rain.

It may be a bit hasty to use the time of a burnt of incense to recall all the past, but it is enough to make a girl who has no experience in the world grow into the cardamom years.

The breeze rises, the withered leaves fly, and the flowers fall in a city for whom;

The cold rain is chaotic, the clouds are drunk, and a blue sky is clear because of you;

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.

Falling into the water and staining the flowers, the flowers unintentionally crushed a curtain of deep locks in the dream of autumn, bustling the past clouds and smoke, and falling into the pond full of sorrow.

The smoke and rain can't cross the red dust, and I can't look back to the few grievances of the past.

I can only sit alone in front of the window, invite the bright moon, and scatter the time of my death in the world of pure songs.

The moon is clear, the years are still moving forward, can your footsteps sound melodiously in my ears at the moment when I turn into dust?

If you miss the return date after all, will you leave a little earlier in this season next year, and will not let my soft heart accumulate into ice again?

It's just that I still want to guard this wisp of soul that has not been lost for years, and wait for you quietly, waiting for you......

I want a silent time, I knead my thoughts into the wind, lingering in your dreams, I wait for you, you will come, you don't come, I am not old.

In the flowing years like water, waiting for the heart of a lotus, waiting for the person who cherishes the lotus to return from the horse, I have poured a whole city, just for you to come a word of distress.

The autumn wind turned the once tender body into ruthlessness in an instant, and walked away ruthlessly.

The long hair was dull and the leaves were crawling all over the ground.

Autumn nights are deep.

The chic leaves in the daytime lie weakly in the dirty ditches, and the bitter autumn moon on the horizon only scatters a touch of paleness.

Loneliness occupies both eyes, and the arrogance in the day turns into a flutter.

If the breeze is affectionate, then the bright moon can be seen;

If the falling flowers are affectionate, then the flowing water can be understood;

If the meteor is intentional, then the starry sky can be seen......

What can't be erased or untied is the front edge of the entanglement;

What is constantly chopping and chaotic is the intertwined wisps of thought;

What can't be stopped, what can't be stopped, is the bubbling passing years......