Qing Ge could save her life, so He Guang Tongchen didn't shirk and laughed lightly, "Okay." ”

Huaxin's hand grasping his monk's robe suddenly tightened, and the ghost asked in a hurry, "She's here, are you leaving?" ”

After a moment of silence, he smiled, "The donor's injury has not healed, and the poor monk will not leave." ”

Huaxin's face turned pale, and he ...... I still have to go, when she recovers.

With a light cough, she raised her hand to take out the Xuanyin lamp from her chest cavity and handed it to Heguang Tongchen, "Blow it out." ”

In the eyes of the painter, he is clean and dust-free.

The recessed lamp is clean and dust-free.

So she thought he knew the mystery of the Xuan Yin Lamp.

The moment he blew out the Xuanyin lamp, she suddenly smiled, she thought, for the sake of Qingge, he really can ignore everything, regardless of the consequences and costs, and let Qingge out.

Just like that, he was desperate for her Junyi back then.

That's it, the happiness he can't get, just fulfill him. Hopefully, he won't be the next Junyi.

And she didn't know that the moment he blew out the Xuanyin lamp with the light and dust, all he thought was that Qingge could save her, and as for the consequences, he was willing to pay for it.

Naturally, he didn't know at this time that this price was the most he could not afford.

"Well, she'll be out in a few days. Huaxin pretended to purse the corners of his lips casually, "When she comes, my injuries will be healed, and you can leave with her." ”

No matter how much she tried her best to behave indifferently, He Guang Tongchen still heard the reluctance and loneliness between her words.

He was there, slowly walking into her heart.

In the identity of the same dust as the light.

If you like someone, you probably won't change. So no matter what kind of appearance he changes, whether he is elegant and elegant with Jun Yi, or clean and dusty, the soul under the skin is still the one she likes, and the tacit understanding of more than 100,000 years will always make her unconsciously attracted.

He looked at her with his usual smile, he would not leave her, never. But he didn't explain, he never liked to talk too much, he didn't like sweet promises, he would only prove himself with powerful actions, just like back then.

Seeing his indifferent "acquiescence", he painted a little temper that could not be controlled in his heart, but he didn't send it out in the end.

After all, he wasn't who she was.

Even her husband could abandon him, so why couldn't he?

She always owed him.

And he has never treated her badly.

Thinking like this, she became even more depressed.

"Back then, she was inferior to this seat in everything. "Now, in your heart, it is better than this!

As if angry, the painting heart put aside half of the sentence, turned sideways and looked inward, looking at the wall, unwilling to look at him again.

But the wall is really not as beautiful as his face.

In this way, she turned around uneasily, grinding the wounds on her body for bursts of heart-wrenching pain. I gasped for cool air, and the corners of my mouth were still half coquettish.

He Guang Tongchen looked at her and smiled, tonight she looked a little angry, like dead wood in spring.

He naturally knew that Qing Ge was inferior to her, and how many immortals in the God Realm followed her back then, but only Qing Ge disdained it, but he was born with a seven-point resemblance to her.

Therefore, Qing Ge has always been a loner, especially like to avoid painting. All the immortals thought that she didn't like to be pressed by the painting everywhere.

Now He Guang Tongchen understands that Qing Ge's hostility to Huaxin comes from him.

"So monk, you don't have a good eye. "I held it for a long time, but I still didn't hold it back, and I didn't vomit or be happy.

Even though she was covered with hideous wounds, she was still graceful and beautiful under the dim candlelight.

The gaze that had nowhere to place with the light finally fell on her fingers wringing in anger at the mattress.

The hands that were once as smooth as jade are now thin and scarred.

"Sleep. He tucked the corners of the quilt for her, stuffed the Buddhist beads in his hand into her palm, and the warm voice fell on her ears, "So you won't be afraid, the poor monk is always there, and no one can hurt you." ”