Under the reflection of the cold sunlight in late autumn, the cracks of the originally messy lines suddenly appeared in five clear characters: two forgot to smoke and water.

The mist condensed on the surface of the river, like a thin layer of light smoke, swirled on the rocks and grass banks, permeating Song Qiuli's surroundings.

The lush pine forests in the distance are like a raging wave, which is surging and surging in the late autumn sun.

In the middle of the mist, on the tip of the blue waves, there was neither cooking smoke nor people, but Song Qiuli felt that the words "two looking at the smoke and water" actually described this place so appropriately.

It's just a little regrettable that now, looking at the light smoke and blue waves of the stream here, it is not two people, but himself, standing exhausted, hanging from each other.

Two look at the smoke and water, two look at the smoke and water...... Song Qiu couldn't help but whisper, as if he was chanting a wonderful poem, like he was dancing a wonderful sword.

At this moment, in the roaring sound of flowing water, under the faint mist, he was completely immersed in the wonderful artistic conception brought by these five words.

For him, what fame, what profit, what rivers and lakes, what hatred, has been completely melted by the simple strokes of these five words.

He even produced Tao Yuanming's kind of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence, leisurely seeing Nanshan" transcendent state of mind, really want to build a grass house here, plant an acre of thin fields, raise a group of ducks and geese, lotus a short hoe, sunset and rest, sunrise and work.

Although he had been living this life in the vegetable garden of the Golden Lodge for twenty years, he had only lived that life with some purpose.

So, in a sense, he hasn't really enjoyed the idyllic tranquility of a rural garden in the past twenty years.

However, when he suddenly saw these five words in the here and now, he had completely reached the realm of self-forgetfulness, so he had a state of self-forgetfulness.

This kind of life is a true portrayal of his selfless state of mind.

He was imagining freely on a rock in the middle of the water, when suddenly he heard a cold voice coming: who was nagging here.

Although the sound was very faint, even muffled by the sound of running water, Song Qiuli still heard this faint voice.

Although the voice was faint and carried the breath of death, Song Qiuli was still startled, so frightened that his body suddenly lost his center of gravity and almost fell into the river.

He quickly jumped to the shore with all his might, found the balance of his body, regained his footing, and quickly looked around, looking for the person who had just spoken.

However, all around was the sound of the green waves of the pine forest blown by the breeze in the distance and the roar of the water under the feet, where there were no figures, where there were people who spoke.

The sound just now seemed to come from the ground.

Although Song Qiuli has never believed in the nonsense of ghosts and gods, he just has an idea of not caring about it like most people in the rivers and lakes.

However, at this moment, here and now, he heard such a voice for no reason, he was still startled, and then said loudly: Who is talking to me?

However, in the mountains and forests, on the banks of the river, not even a birdsong could be heard except for his own voice, which lingered for a long time overhead.

Is it really hell?

Song Qiuli immediately forgot the hunger in his stomach and the exhaustion in his body, and hurriedly walked upstream, running in the direction of the boulder.

The boulder is the highest ground in front of you, and you can see everything around you without a clear view, and if you jump on it, you might find something out of it.

Thinking of this, he had completely lost the fatigue he had just now, and his originally gurgling stomach seemed to have suddenly forgotten about his hunger after such a fright.

The surroundings began to darken, too.

He remembered that it was morning, when the sun had just risen, but, for some reason, it was as if it had already set in the blink of an eye.

The blur in front of me was again, and even the boulder that reflected the sunlight of the late autumn season seemed to have only a faint outline.

Song Qiuli was shocked again, as if he hadn't figured out what was going on, his grip on the sword was a little cold, and then he found that cold sweat was already pouring out of his palms.

It was an inexplicable fear.

It was getting darker and darker, and it seemed like it was getting dark.

Song Qiu was so frightened that he couldn't even distinguish between east and west, north and south.

What a horrible night it would have been if that voice hadn't been found before dark.

Thinking of this, he suddenly lifted his breath, pulled out his steps and galloped, and finally reached the bottom of the boulder.

The rock face of the boulder is still smooth and smooth, although there are traces of thin cracks on the surface, but it is impossible to climb up at all.

Song Qiuli thought about it, then condensed his last breath, jumped up suddenly, and then plunged his sword into the rock, rested for a while, and then pulled out his sword and stabbed into the rock, and continued to climb.

Climbing, climbing...... Song Qiuli didn't know if he had touched something, maybe it was a mechanism hidden in a corner, or maybe it was because of his exertion, the stones that were originally glued together suddenly cracked.

Then, with a thud, the monolith, intact, collapsed, and then, beneath his feet, it softened, and the rocks continued to fall downward.

At this moment, all around him were splashing rocks, like cannonballs, and beneath his feet were full of strange rocks, and the sharp horns shimmered white in the twilight of dusk.

Now, even if he wanted to, it was impossible for him to jump away, and besides, he didn't have any strength in his body at the moment, so he could only fall down with the boulder.

His mind went blank.

The mountain, the pine forest, and the sky suddenly became even darker in front of him, and even slowly merged, turning into a whole.

It's like he's falling into an unknown world.

And in this unknown world, what awaits him is impossible to predict, maybe heaven or hell.

He was already supposed to be a dead man, and he had already given up his life when he gave up his status and status to enter the Golden Throwing Villa as a slave twenty years ago.

For him, death was nothing.

But now he can't die.

He had just mastered so many clues, and many questions were waiting for him to answer, and if he died so easily, then, his humiliation in the past twenty years was completely in vain.

He can't die, he can't die.

But—

The sky was getting higher and higher, his body was getting heavier and heavier, and the pines and plants around him seemed to have all grown feet, and they kept running in front of him.

At the moment when he was closest to death, his heart became unprecedentedly open, since I am a person who has died a long time ago, so why not die again?

He had even closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

What kind of world he is going to enter, what kind of horror he is going to face, perhaps, when he opens his eyes again, the answer will be revealed.