"What's written on this?"

“...... The name of God. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info" the old man replied slowly.

In Weishui in late spring, an old man with crane hair and a childish face fished by the stream.

The child with a sad face on the side glanced at the spread out file and asked:

"Is Grandpa's name on it?"

The old man looked at the stream heading east, shook his head, and slowly picked up a gourd with his thin hand.

"What is this?"

"Hurtful wine. ”

"Why do you drink it when you know it's hurting?"

"Drinking hurts your body, it's ......sad not to drink," he said, and the old man took a sip.

Looking at the old man's silver hair, a trace of indescribable sadness flashed in the child's eyes.

"It's sad, mortals are destined to die. The child looked at the yellowed dossier and sighed, "It would be nice if my name was on it, the fortune teller said that my yang life was very short, and I would die soon......"

The more the child spoke, the more sad he became, but the old man smiled slightly, held the wine gourd in front of him, and said:

"Mortals have mortal pleasures. The world is like this wine gourd, and everyone is soaked in it. The more time passes, the more intoxicated you become. ”

The child was confused, pursed his lips, and blinked blankly.

"What's your name?" asked the old man.

"Sud-chi. ”

“...... The old man was slightly stunned, looked up to the sky and sighed: "She is also surnamed Su." ”

"Who is she?"

"She is a god of the past. ”

"What about me?"

"You are my fate with the future. ”

After saying this, the old man suddenly saw the fishing rod move, and hurriedly lifted it! There was no fish, but a straight, unhooked, bare copper needle attached to the end of the fishing line.

The old man's dry lips let out a faint sigh, and the hand gripping the rod gradually lost strength.

The child who was deep in thought on the side suddenly looked up and said:

"I seem to get it. God crosses the catastrophe of the first life, and the fate of the man cultivates the first life. Am I right, old man?"

The old man slowly closed his eyes and stopped answering, the expression on his face gradually solidified, as if the last rays of the setting sun were obliterated by darkness......

Looking closely, the child found that the old man's body gradually turned into a blurry white light. In the blink of an eye, there was only a pile of snow-white down feathers on the ground.

The child's eyes widened, and tears silently rolled down his face, line by line.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled the child's hair, blowing the feathers on the ground into the distant sky, and they all fluttered and shrouded the world.

An ethereal voice echoed in the sky:

"The fate in the dream is over, and the catastrophe in the world will come again. ”

"Doom?" the child asked, looking up at the flying feathers, "When?"

"Two hundred and fifty years later. ”

"For so long, I'm long gone, I just hope that there will be immortals to come to the world to survive the catastrophe, will it be you?"

The wind blows to the edge of the sky, and the feather is already in the sky.

The old man's last sentence seemed to come from the sky:

"I'm gone, and you're still ......"