Evening, winter twilight. Rain, cold. Wind, also cold. The bamboo forest, with no end, rattles, seems to be the sound of a man crying.

Why not a woman's crying? because, if you look carefully, you will see a man lying on the side of this muddy bamboo path that is fading away. A dead man. A dead man.

No. At this time, he could not be called a dead man, because his eyes were still blinking, even if it was half an hour, blinking once. But that's enough proof that he's still alive. Yes, he is alive, but he is dead than the dead, for he lies there motionless, and does not move. Even if it is a dead man, he does not die.

Who is he? Nobody knows. Where did it come from? Nobody knows. Why are you lying here? No one knows. No one has come back to this place, let alone in such a winter, such a stormy weather. But here he was, lying like a dead man. Although he is not dead.

The wind is getting stronger, the rain is getting heavier, and there seems to be no intention of stopping. He was still motionless, like a dead man, but he was not dead.

He remained like this for at least two hours. Because his face was as pale as white paper, his eyes were deeply sunken, his eyeballs protruded outward, his lips were purple and blue, and his fingers were as thick as white wax. It seemed to be a sign of poisoning, but he was not poisoned, because at this moment, there was a sword 'sticking' in his chest, a sword that seemed ordinary but strange.

It's this sword, this sword is exquisitely crafted, and it's unusually sharp. Because if you listen closely, you will hear the sound of the wind being torn. At first glance, this sword is from the hand of a master swordsmith. The important thing is not these, the important thing is that the sword is not a man's sword, but a woman's sword. And not the sword of the average woman.

However, judging from the man's clothes, he should not be a rich kid, because his clothes are already ordinary and can no longer be ordinary. Why would such a man have such a peerless sword in his chest, and it is a woman's sword.

The wind is stronger, the rain is heavier, and I don't know when it will be dark.

This man, no, should say this young man, because he is in his early twenties at most. At this time, he was still motionless, like a dead man.

But he seemed to be crying, grieving, shouting, laughing, mad, and becoming demonic. Because, the whole bamboo forest will be broken when the wind blows, and the rain will knock off all the bamboo leaves, and the thunder will be like a landslide and the earth will crack, and the lightning will be like the scorching sun. Thunder, every thunder seemed to cause him great pain. It makes people shudder to look at his desperate and angry eyes in the lightning, and only the eyes can express everything about him at this time.

It was thunder, it was winter thunder, did you hear it? At least a few hours ago, he had heard it, even though it wasn't raining at that time, it was coming from a woman's mouth. At that time, he thought he was the luckiest man in the world. The thunder, in fact, cannot be thunder, because it is just a word. A sentence that makes people forget life and death.

Yes, it's it. This sentence is, "Winter thunder and summer rain and snow, heaven and earth are together, but dare to be with the king." This is a very affectionate and loving sentence. A phrase that came from the mouth of the woman he loved the most. Only now he was lying there, as if he was dead. But he didn't die, because he had already died once, just a few hours ago. But now he has nothing alive, and even he doesn't know it. At least, he's still alive. The world says, "When a man dies, he forgets everything." But he didn't, although he had already died once. He will never forget that scene. Just a few hours earlier, she had asked him to meet here. He came as promised, and she hadn't come yet. Much later, she came, armed with the sword. He didn't ask her why she was late, or about the sword. In his opinion, it was good that he was here! Time didn't matter, the sword might be her favorite thing, or maybe it would be used for her self-defense later. He walked forward happily. She is still as beautiful as before, and she still has the same smile as before, and that smile can melt the snow of the Tianshan Mountains. She stepped forward as well, and the two hugged each other tightly.

It's been a long time, it's been a long time, it's like two people haven't seen each other for a long time, and it's as if they're going to part with life and death. Of course, he thinks it's the former, but the truth is that they haven't seen each other for a long time. Only now,

He was indeed lying here, motionless, but his seemingly gentle eyes looked even more strange and desolate against the lightning.

He will never forget, but not memories, not happiness, now just despair, just ruthlessness and coldness. He remembered that he had spoken so much to her, and that she was lying in his arms. When he heard that, he went crazy. It's crazy, it's crazy to be happy. He thought she was going to fly away with him, wander the world, and be together forever.

As he contemplated his future with her, he felt a tingling in his chest. When he opened his eyes, he saw a sword stuck straight into his chest, and she was long gone. And just like that, he fell from heaven to hell, a hell he could never have imagined. He wanted to shout, but he couldn't, he wanted to cry, but it rained in the sky.

In this way, he was blown to the ground by the wind, motionless, and let the rain wash over his ridiculousness, his ignorance, his discouragement. He gave him all his emotions, and only despair remained. I don't know how long it took, it was dawn, the wind was still blowing, the rain was still falling, and he was still lying down. Still in that position, motionless. It's worse than a dead man. However, he did not die because he had already died once. He knew that he could not die now, because he would not allow himself to die, and no one could let him die unless he wanted to.

I saw him stand up slowly, as if a gust of wind could blow him down, but he didn't. He stood straight, straight like a bamboo. He slowly drew the sword, the woman's sword on his chest. The sadness, pain and despair of yesterday cannot be seen in the eyes. His eyes look deep but not hollow.

If you meet his eyes, you will know that the end of that depth is endless cold and unforgiving. He looked at the sword in his hand and smiled. Yes, laughed happily. As if he wasn't the one lying here yesterday. As if he was just a passerby.

In fact, he knows that he is who he is now, and he was him yesterday. After looking at the sword in his hand for a long time, he finally said, "From now on, your name is mercy." ”

Then he turned and walked the way he had come yesterday. With the sword named Mercy, he went into the distance. The wind was still howling, and it was still raining, icy cold. He disappeared into the distance, cold, cold. The sky was still gloomy, and there was no light in sight.