On the square, everyone was surprised to find that a powerful suction force suddenly erupted from the place where the test was about to end, and in a trance, there seemed to be this tornado-like spiritual power vortex appearing, constantly absorbing and rolling the surrounding spiritual energy, and the spiritual energy gathered towards the vortex like the wind.

At this time, Ding Nan's cultivation barrier was constantly being broken, and the aura was frantically pouring into the meridians of the whole body, rushing through like a tide, and after a while, he reached the eleventh layer of qi training, which was not over, the aura was still pouring in, and the cultivation was still increasing.

Ding Nan knew that this was his own opening of a heart knot, and love was born, as said in "The Peony Pavilion": "Love doesn't know what to do, go deep, the living can die, and the dead can live." Those who are born and cannot be resurrected, and those who die and cannot be resurrected are not lovely. The love in the dream, why is it not true, there are few people in the dream in the world? ”

Too forgetful, second to be affectionate, again hypocritical, too unloved, only in my generation.

In this fantasy world, Ding Nan wrote out all the things in his heart, telling the pain of lovesickness, a total of more than 10,000 sons, and now he is sub-recorded here, named "Appealing to the Heart":

No place is far away, there is news from you, even the end of the world is close at hand, no place is another place, as long as you are there, a foreign land is the hometown. I am willing to accompany you to drift, at the feet, to the distance, I am willing to follow you on the waves, to the hometown, to go to another country. I would always like to be with you, as long as you acquiesce to my original intentions and accept my actions, so that I can get close and see you again.

I'm such a mortal, and I live my life in a mess. It wasn't until I never saw you again that I woke up and understood: thinking of you is the greatest loneliness in my life. Your appearance is like a shadow, enveloping me, melting me, your shadow is everywhere, you can't shake it off, your voice is like it, in my head, in my ears, in my heart.

I can't help myself, I'm addicted to it, I can't help myself. You are an endless dream for me, you come when you fall asleep, and you are not there when you wake up. I dreamed you into my dreams, hid you in my heart, and placed you in the little paradise that I had carefully offered. It's just that every time I wake up, there is only a long period of loss left, which is so lonely and sad.

Surrounded by this loneliness, he was so hidden, but he often blatantly captured me, and let me indulge in some memories for a long time. In the memory, everything is suddenly like yesterday, everything is still clear, and everything is quietly changing. I'm obsessed with it, don't wake up, don't want to wake up and look at your picture in a daze. I don't want to go back and forth, happy and melancholy, happy and sad.

I often look at your photos in a daze, flipping through the old photos, just like flipping through the thoughts that are slowly moving away. In my heart is memory, I care, and I miss it over time. I'm thinking about you, you know? Definitely not. You have never asked, and I have not said or spoken, how can you know? This heart is hidden in my heart, this feeling is hidden in my heart, and the heart of this culprit has run away with you, and it does not belong to me.

You didn't hint at it, and I lost the courage to do it. The only way to do this is to pile up this large pile of thoughts again, and let this large pile of thoughts accumulate again, bit by bit, day by day, bit by bit, bit by bit, fill the chest, occupy the thoughts. Let the world be only you, only the memory of you. I began to want to indulge myself, the accumulated thoughts overwhelmed me, I also wanted to empty myself, but I was already imprisoned, deeply imprisoned, imprisoned in this small world, where there is no future and no hope, only a distant you. On the road ahead, you are ethereal and blurry, I can't see clearly, turn around, your figure is graceful, and I am lovesick. I didn't know how to advance or retreat, I only stood in place, I didn't dare to move, so I had to go back into the old dream.

The old dream is deep, the dream is strong, you smile in the dream, and I also offer my heart. I walked to you there, drifted with you, followed you on your paths, followed you to the ends of the sea and the end of the world to foreign lands. I follow in your footsteps, so resolutely, so surely, that I step on your footsteps, step by step to catch up with you.

Time does not leave people, those people, those things, those joys and sorrows. The years are endless, and many feelings and sorrows are difficult to give up. When you are far away, when you are blurred, when you don't remember a person, when you have been gone for many years, I have memorized and turned your memories into dreams. When I look back, when I reminisce, when I think bitterly of you twilight and the dynasty. This dream is already a gust of wind, slowly blowing my life.

We didn't really say goodbye in person, and now we don't really say goodbye. After you leave, I think of you as before, I think of you as before, those parting times are still, in my eyes, you have just passed, everything is as clear as yesterday. I don't deliberately say goodbye, nor do I reminisce, I just gently put you in my heart, never left, never left. Faintly suppressed the urge to chase you away one after another.

After parting, we drifted apart, and we no longer saw each other without contact. After parting, they are separated from each other, which is sad and regretful. The sky after parting is a sea full of thoughts, drowning me, intoxicating me, and pushing wave after wave of waves to make me think of you and remember you. I have such a strong desire to meet you again, practice every day, and I can't bear to touch it. After so much depression and waiting, I am still looking forward to seeing and knowing you. After such a long silence and waiting, I am still hoping that you can give me a different answer.

When you're gone, the world is one less cute, one less ecstatic throbbing. After I left, looking back is full of memories, full of you who have been fixed in my heart, you smile slightly, and smile so that the corners of my eyes are full of spring breeze. I'm thinking about you who didn't leave, and imagining myself who didn't leave. It was perfection, it was perfection, it was a dream that I never broke night after. It's so magical, it's so incredible, it's clear that everything is far away, it's the past, it's a big time that has been separated for too long. In the dream, it was as clear as yesterday. In a trance, it seems that time has been reversed, space is still, everything is stuck in this second, in the moment when you and I are speechless.

At that time, I thought that everything was very chic, leaving was chic, and not keeping was chic. Nowadays, everything is sadistic, memories are sadistic, inferiority complex is sadistic, and I can't give up even more abuse. I admit that I am reluctant to give you up. You are a kind of beauty, and I have been looking for it. You are a moment of happiness, I silly reminisce. You are the voice of the sudden silence around me, the ripples that keep reverberating in my head, the air that I can't hold on to, and just occupy me, surround me, and make me addicted.

After you leave, leave me with your slender back, and gradually fade away, slowly blurring. After you leave, leave me with the slender background, I am a painting in the background, and in the painting I look at you not far away. Suddenly looking back, the very light and light words of the pen outlined a very deep background, in the background, your figure is very shallow, just like my shallow heart, rooted in the gentle evening breeze. I thought, I thought, I thought. I look back, look back, remember. I leave and I come back, I walk in and I walk out. The only thing that remains unchanged is your graceful posture and slender back. It's me who can't forget it, and my soul is haunted by dreams.