Chapter 291
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This old monk is sometimes innocent and pure like a newborn baby, sometimes thin and irritable like a hot woman in the market, sometimes passionate like a young scholar in the capital who saves the world, sometimes proud like a young chivalrous man with a sword to fight unevenly, sometimes merciful and merciful like a great Buddhist master, sometimes cruel and indifferent, like a demon. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info
No matter which kind of image is extremely real, there is no trace of falsehood at all, all kinds of faces are completely different, but they all come from the heart, pure palpitations, just like the sentence to become a Buddha will become a Buddha, if you want to become a demon, you will become a demon, are all true Buddhas and true demons or compassion or indifference looking at this world.
He is simple but fickle, lonely and fragile, complex and hateful, sometimes jealous and sometimes insidious, likes to fight and occasionally complain, selfish and boring but perverted and adventurous, loves sophistry and fantasy, kind and fraternity but hatred and revenge, domineering and blame, he is proud when he is brilliant, sad when he is silent, he is contradictory and hypocritical, happy but painful, great but insignificant.
It is hard to imagine that a person's personality and thoughts are so complex.
Xu Chen thought slightly, could it be that this person actually has thirty-two personalities?
After the old monk finished speaking, he was like a water lily in the night, calmly closed his eyes, and began to use the secret method of the Demon Sect to digest and absorb the flesh and blood of the Dao idiot into the vitality power in his body.
Xu Chen's voice echoed in the quiet room, but now no one answered his words, these voices seemed so monotonous and uneasy, and even faintly smelled of despair.
"Just because there are so many people like you, there are demons. ”
"Whatever role you play, you are the devil. ”
"The old monk is thirty-two, and the petals are all dirty. ”
"If you communicate with the Tao and demons, you will become a god, but you may also become a neurotic. ”
No matter what Xu Chen said, the old monk in the White Bone Mountain no longer had any reaction, and these seemingly philosophical words that he came out of his exhausted mind were all wasted in the dry air, unable to provoke the other party, let alone let the other party have some loopholes in his mind because of these words.
Xu Chen was powerless to put his head on Duanmu Rong's shoulder, looking at the bluestones on the roof, knowing in his heart that after the old monk completely digested and absorbed the second mouthful of flesh and blood full of Daomen's breath, the realm would recover to a level that he could not touch, and at that time, there would be no way to change the outcome of death, and his eyes would be a little gloomy.
The light in the room of the Demon Temple was getting darker and darker, and it was probably night in the world outside the mountain, and the temperature was getting lower.
He looked up at the mottled sword marks on the stone wall of the roof, those sword marks left by Xuanwei, and the sword marks that formed a talisman array that trapped the old monk for decades, and sighed softly in his heart.
Just looking at it casually, he didn't deliberately control his mind, and those dense sword marks naturally separated in his field of vision, gradually becoming clear.
Xu Chen's gaze lingered on those sword marks for a long time, and his mind walked with the traces, gradually giving birth to a certain feeling, which was very vague, elusive and difficult to distinguish, but his body warmed up because of it.
The vague feeling in his body didn't attract much attention from Xu Chen, he even thought that the warmth came from Duanmu Rong behind him, he just quietly looked at the mottled sword marks between the bluestones on the roof, thinking about the chic bearing when Xuanwei splashed his sword intent back then, thinking about his helplessness to wait for death at this time, and felt a little ashamed and embarrassed.
Desperate waiting for death is a very sad thing, people in this situation are usually silent, at this time the old monk no longer speaks, Xu Chen naturally has no interest in speaking, and the room in the demon hall becomes dead silent.
The absolutely quiet environment, as the old monk recalled viciously before, lasted for a long time and was indeed terrifying, there was no sound of the wind and no sound of flowers and plants, Xu Chen even faintly heard the sound of his lungs expanding and contracting, and heard the sound of his hair rubbing, he felt very magical, but he felt terrible.
If he hadn't been able to clearly feel Duanmu's soft body, maybe he would have really thought that he had reached the underworld.
Duanmu Rong leaned weakly on his shoulder, emaciated and asked, "Are we going to die?"
Xu Chen was silent for a moment and then said, "It seems to be so." ”
Duanmu Rong frowned slightly, and said, "Why can't you comfort me?"
Xu Chen coughed twice in pain, laughed at himself and said, "If you can die happily, it can actually be considered comfort." ”
Duanmu Rong understood what he meant by this, if he was killed directly by the old monk later, he would be happy, and if he watched himself being eaten like Ye Tong, that was the biggest fear in the world.
As soon as she thought of this, the girl's beautiful cheeks suddenly became extremely pale, her long and sparse eyelashes trembled slightly, her thin lips tightly pursed into a red line, and after a long silence, she looked at Xu Chen's brows that were deeply wrinkled into Sichuan characters because of coughing, and said in a slightly trembling voice: "I said in the royal court that I like your words. ”
Xu Chen didn't know why Duanmu Rong mentioned this matter at this time, and after being slightly stunned, he said with a comforting smile: "I know that my own handwriting is good, if you want to see me go out and write thousands of words for you." ”
Duanmu Rong smiled slightly and said, "I also said that I like your dark horse." ”
Xu Chen was stunned, and said with a wry smile: "That naughty guy is really reluctant to give it away." ”
"I don't want a dark horse. Duanmu Rong bit his lower lip lightly, and said softly as if he had made up his mind: "I do like your words, and I like that big dark horse, but what I want to tell you more is another thing." ”
"I like you. ”
This confession directly turned Xu Chen into a piece of wood, he looked at the haggard but still beautiful face close at hand, sniffed the faint girl's body near the end of his nose, and was silent for a long time, thinking about how to answer.
This is the first time in his two lives that he has been confessed by the opposite sex, this is one of the most beautiful words he has heard in his two lives, although it is a pity that it is in the dim mouth of the Demon Sect Hall, at the moment when death is coming, but it is still beautiful like the sound of the willow branches gently rubbing against the lake, that lake is the ink pool under Mogan Mountain?
The girl on the shoulder is a first-rate person in the world in terms of temperament and appearance and cultivation realm, famous all over the world, I don't know how many young men secretly love but are ashamed of themselves and dare not speak, in Xu Chen's opinion, Duanmu Rong is easy to be misunderstood for being cold and arrogant because of his bad eyes, but he can't find the slightest fault.
Of course, men's likes are sometimes complicated, but most of the time they are very simple, a woman like Duanmu Rong who is worthy of liking should be liked, and Xu Chen is the same.
It's just that he is about to die in the mouth of the Demon Sect Hall, and he has been thinking about so many things for so long, and when he wakes up, he can't help but almost lose his laughter, but he always feels that something is wrong in his heart.
This feeling is very strange, any background and worldly things are not important before death, and he asked himself if he really liked this girl as pure as books and ink, but he became more and more vigilant about the touch of something wrong in his heart, as if he was going to take that crucial step before entering the demon, and the great beauty was accompanied by great fear.
What is that fear? Xu Chen didn't know, he looked at the girl beside him, and said helplessly: "Senior Sister Rong, I like your temperament and appearance, including the way you do things, it stands to reason that this is the time, I shouldn't ...... it"
Duanmu Rong's face did not have the usual shyness after the girl's confession, but it was gentle and quiet, she knew why Xu Chen hesitated, and even knew why he hesitated better than this guy himself, and couldn't help but sigh softly in her heart.
She leaned gently into his arms and whispered, "You're really confused in some ways. I just don't want to die, and you don't know my affection, but I'm not anxious to hear any comfort from you, and it's not fair to say anything you say at this moment, I'm just telling you about it. ”
Xu Chen wanted to refute where he was confused, but after thinking about it, he was indeed a little confused at this time.
Why can't you hold this girl's family in your arms according to your true heart, tell her that I like you too, and then make up for the regrets of the next two lives before you die, what are you afraid of?
But he felt Duanmurong's affection, and his heart was warm and moved, and he said softly: "Then I know." ”
Duanmu Rong smiled contentedly, slowly closed his eyes, leaned into his arms, and said, "That's enough." ”
In the dark and silent room of the Demon Temple, in the middle of the hill of bones and corpses, the ghost-like old monk's palm gently pressed on the top of the head of a beautiful girl covered in blood, cold as winter, but in the other corner of the room, two young men and women who were about to die hugged each other gently, whispering like small animals, warm as spring.
This bloody and cruel but beautiful picture is heart-pounding and heart-warming.
A good feeling can't make this world really beautiful, it seems to be as warm as spring, in fact, as the night envelops the peak of the Demon Sect, the light in the room is getting darker and darker, and the temperature is getting lower and lower, the weak Duanmu Rong leaned on Xu Chen's arms and fell unconscious, and Xu Chen, who was extremely injured, also felt that the heat in his body was gradually disappearing.
Vaguely remembering the warmth of a certain moment before, he instinctively raised his head and looked at the bluestones on the roof again, and suddenly found that the mottled sword marks on the stones at this time did not disappear with the night, but began to glow with a faint light.
Xuanwei was a strong man in the Sword Slaying Demon Sect back then, and the sword was stained with blood and then went up to the stone wall, and finally became today's ghost fire? But Xu Chen clearly remembered that the ghost fire should be a relic left by a rotting corpse, and it couldn't last too long.
He squinted at the increasingly clear sword marks on the roof, and gradually became so engrossed that he forgot about the injuries on his body and forgot about his cough.
The mottled sword marks glowing with faint light began to disintegrate into dense filaments of light, and then turned around in the field of vision, as if lying on the grassland and looking at the stars overhead, beautiful and peaceful.
Suddenly, Xu Chen felt a little more warmth in his body, this time he didn't let this feeling pass, but he didn't pay too much attention, just carefully experienced and enjoyed.
The sword marks on the roof stone flowed in his field of vision according to a certain pattern, and the warmth seemed to correspond to it, and it also began to circulate in his body, from his wrist to his neck, and the place he passed was warm and comfortable.
Xu Chen's mind was a little dazed at this time, and he subconsciously chased after those warmth, wanting to dispel the chill on his body, and his gaze also moved slowly on those sword marks, and those traces were gradually imprinted in his sea of consciousness.
The sword marks entered his eyes, entered his body, became a warm current, passed through his wrists and many joints, entered his internal organs, and became some kind of substantial existence, indifferently urging him to his feet. The sword intent contained in those traces was so proud, how could it allow such despair to surrender in the face of death?
So, Xu Chen stood up.
He tilted his head and looked at the sword marks on the roof, as if he didn't even know he was standing up.
Duanmu Rong woke up from a coma, shocked and speechless, looking at him standing in front of him, not knowing what was happening.
Xu Chen raised his head and looked at the sword marks quietly, I don't know how long he looked at it, his pupils gradually became darker and darker, but they were so transparent and crystalline, looking inside, he seemed to see an endless abyss.
With a thud, he slowly drew the saber behind him.