Mo Liunian shook his head and said, "Don't go, I can hold it." ”

Xiao Banxian pulled her hand and got up to leave, Mo Liunian wanted to follow, but this vitality couldn't be ignored, she watched Xiao Banxian leave.

Xiang Wan said that he was about to leave, but Ben Mingguang pulled him. He turned around, but saw that Mingguang's eyes were full of tears, looking at him, such a look, as if he was dead, and he couldn't keep it. Just like when he saw Yi Nian and Chu Wuchen leaving, his heart was full of despair.

When the car drove over, we would always be late, not knowing whether we should go up, whether it was the one we were looking forward to, whether we would meet him, whether we would reach the end with him, or whether we would be separated halfway through and watch him gradually move away.

Jun, I know that life, like you, has never really left, but I dare not shout. I had no choice but to turn around before sunset and walk away like the wind, gently, gently, away......

The corpses lay across the street, some still staring at the world with nostalgia, others staring at the man who had slashed his sword at them without blinking. Chu Wuchen didn't dare to look at such eyes, his heart was full of uneasiness, he felt that she would leave him, he seemed to see that the girl who was smiling in the past was leaving him, she was walking farther and farther, and her steps were so fast that he couldn't catch up.

Why do you have the veil of night in the early morning, so that I can't see your face clearly, the swaying footsteps stop for no reason, looking at your distant figure, I can't touch it, my retention is no longer feasible, I know that you will be far away, but I don't know when, the freeze frame in the morning and twilight, fast or slow, only looking at you is left.

The aroma of Ganoderma lucidum wafted between me and him. The unparalleled fairy grass...... He stood up and drew closer to me. I'm a little nervous. He drew closer to me. I'm a little nervous. Yes, it seems that with every step he takes, he will step on my heart. It's only three steps away. I don't know why I became so incompetent. All of a sudden, my face was clouded with hatred. I couldn't control the color that wouldn't go away. I just ...... He looked at me. When I look at it, there is something in my eyes, with the mystery and uneasiness of just returning to the yang, in the blink of an eye, it will be gone. It is difficult to know that it is difficult to be permanent, and it is better to cherish the time. Even dusk is late.

Fireworks life, a dream of red dust. Don't sigh that time is in a hurry, in the blink of an eye, the geometry of life, the years have changed, after the prosperity, there is still a piece of dust scattered all over the place, unchanged for thousands of years. The wind blows and falls countless flowers, and the petals touched by the hand are fragrant and soft, like fireworks, and the beauty of the moment is frozen into eternity.

The night is heavy, the lead is gone, and I drink away the bitterness of the passing years. After a thousand turns, he never saw the Yiren feather fan shaking and smiling. Maybe you should have been the clear word of parting in my pen, prosperous three lives, exiled three lives. The story after turning around is the beginning of no ending.

Time and time, prosperity is over, maybe the arrangement of fate, I can only be a passerby in your life, ten fingers interlocked into a luxury, this life is just a dream, miss your death, and now, bow your head and continue a song of parting, sing the passing years, for the final song of our parting, silently remember!

The red face locked the smoke and rain building, the world was flowing with the water, and a wisp of rouge tears was flicked. How can the most beautiful encounter not necessarily write the most beautiful ending, send a lovesickness, tell the endless song of Li, sing about the wine, drunk for a long time, and leave a dream among the flowers.

whispered in the dream, sighed and lamented this year, and euphemistically perfunctory this concern. The wind is also sluggish, the rain is also long, the red dust is a dream, it can get in, it is difficult to come out, why should the wind and rain flutter for it? The frost is like snow, and it is more and more pale and melancholy. The dew is frost, and I saw the wrong Yiren in the middle of the water. That face, too late to see it, has passed away with the smoke and waves, and there is no trace to be found. Mo is fragrant, a little melancholy, full of regrets, where to find the king's shadow?

The end of the world is quiet, Xie Jun feels the clear autumn, the golden wind and jade dew meet a few times, the fireworks are drunk in a lifetime, and this life is not in vain; the joys and sorrows of the world, and the dream of pillowing, are turned into floating clouds and a little ping; tonight the drunken moon, the lovesickness dyes the West Building, it is difficult to forget the worries, the red dust is all over, and the dream is a few rounds of spring and autumn, but I hope that the years are like water, and there are no broken thoughts.

In the world of red dust, there are many stories up and down every minute and every second, and there are also many ups and downs in mood. When I wake up from a dream, I sit alone in the scene of snowflakes, leaning on the passing years, looking at the scenery that gradually dissipates in the distance. Looking back on the ups and downs of the relationship with you, it is like a gorgeous firework that is fleeting.

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.

Those who know me say that I am worried, and those who do not know me say what I want. Time is amber, and tears are locked up drop by drop. The flowers of the gloomy season of shallow singing, the brightness is too late to draw and write, I take you to memories, lost in the world of crowds. Sheng's song is tactful, what you can't see through is still the lights, stop and walk, go around and around, what you can't get to is the other side of your heart.

"This year, at the end of the world, win full of clothes and tears", the passing years are still the same, and the thin shadow in the shallow singing of time is clear, but the voice of the years is wet with the eyes of hope. It's the anomaly of the climate that prevents you from returning. The brief encounter at the ends of the world in this year and a season has long missed the time of meeting in previous years.

A thought is extinguished, and the vicissitudes of life. The weak water is three thousand, and I have lost weight for a lifetime. Scattered and flashy, slimmed down a lifetime of affection. The book is endless, and the sorrow is endless. The clouds of the past that can't be kept. I couldn't hold back my tears. It's just that how to downplay that dream?

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......

Ying Long said that after a stick of incense, the emperor's slurry would fall, and the little half-immortal did not dare to delay, and walked at his fastest speed, but this speed could not even catch up with a three-year-old doll on weekdays.

Fortunately, Bita Sea is not far away, but the Gang Qi here has weakened a lot, but Rao is so, Bita Sea is still a dead and silent water without waves.

His heart was so cold and indifferent, there were no waves, no waves, no light, no heat, like a desolate sandbar, unable to get rid of the invisible loneliness.

When Chu Wuchen walked out of the deep forest and heard the sound of water, there was a sweet taste that fused into his mouth. The smell is very strange, as if it is in the air and enters the mouth with the breath, and I don't know where it came from. As soon as you come out of the forest, the mountains and rivers are far away. In front of me is a calm lake, and the sound of flowing water is not rippling. There is an island in the middle of the lake, which seems to be far away and near, looming. Chu Wuchen walked to the lake, the lake water was clear, and the dazzling edge of the morning light was reflected. The water seems to be wrapped in grains of silver sand, flowing gracefully.

There was still no life here, there was no grass growing on the edge of the lake, only a piece of gravel and sand, as soon as he stood firmly, he felt some breath fluctuations behind him, and when he looked back, he saw dozens of vague spirits, these spirits were too shallow in mana, and their breath was weak, and they had obviously been injured by the gangqi.

These spirits gathered together, saw the little half-immortal, and probed their brains one by one.

The little half-immortal knew that these monsters were all here for the emperor's slurry, and couldn't help but say: "Your cultivation is still shallow, why bother hitting the stone with an egg, the catastrophe of the Heavenly Fire Demon Snake will only kill you for a lifetime, it is really not worth taking such a big risk." ”

Those monsters were silent one by one, and the last slender voice sounded in the group of demons: "We are all low-level spirits, if we can't get the Emperor Flowing Pulp, we can't cultivate the Inner Dan, even if we practice for another thousand years, it will be in vain." ”

The other little demons nodded in agreement, all determined to fight to the death.

The little half-fairy saw that these little demons had made up their minds, and understood that what they said was good, so he didn't persuade him anymore: "Wait, if you can't stand it, just hide in the water, the deeper the better, understand?"

"Thank you for the mention!" said all the little demons this time.

Thinking about it, I couldn't tell whether it was tears or rain on my face. At this moment, the drizzle is sandwiched with scattered falling flowers, the breeze dances, and the dark fragrance fills the sleeves, as if you are floating down from the sky, just a gentle greeting, which makes me smile and my heart bloom.

As a result, every time a flower blooms and falls, it is a wordless understanding. After walking through the wind and cold and heavy dew, we will always usher in the purple and red. After bathing in the summer breeze, bathing in frost and snow, and the hand that holds the years with you, there must be a touch of dark fragrance in the heart, that is the low chant of the year.

In the middle of March in the solar calendar, the peach blossoms in the garden bloomed. The endless red clouds are overwhelming. The breeze blew and swept over the branches, and the pink petals fluttered in the sky and swirled lightly on his tall and thin body. He smiled at me in the colorful falling, and his transcendent demeanor over thousands of sails was like a person from the Outer Immortal Mountain.

The hourglass of memory is generalized into the sorrow of a place in the pain of the years, and the prosperity of the passing years is precipitated into the sorrow of a lifetime, and disappears without a trace with the rolling river in the east. Half a lifetime of exile, just to be able to touch your fingertips, outside the shallow sky, gray lone star, moonlight splashing wet and sad, how can love be so far away.

Love is also sad, love is also confused, thinking that the dusty memories will be erased with time, but they are no match for the dark changes of the years. Every moment is a reflection of one's true self in the story. When the desolation reaches the heart, if you want to withdraw, you are also at a loss, in exchange for things and people. In the drunken dream, the flowers bloom and thank you, which has nothing to do with the wind and moon, just to live up to the red dust. Outside the world, who will put a pure love into a smile? Affection is indifferent, persistent, trying to go away, but it haunts the bottom of my heart silently, and disappears in silence in the blink of an eye.

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.

Standing on the other side of the passing years, pushing away the layers of wind-blown past, turning over the fragrance in the memory, those years like songs jump from time to time in the prismatic mirror that has long been scarred, inadvertently, thanking all kinds of yesterday. Looking back, I realized that youth was just a bright wound.

Xiaohan dreams and shadows, a little cool, flowers fly and butterflies dance, often accompanied by a bright moon. Acacia is boundless ever since. The wind and fireworks and rain are buried at the feet, and in the loneliness, hold a touch of the autumn moon.

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