One morning.

Daoist Fang buried himself in the grass and curled up like a big bear.

The big bear is still a big bear, and the sick cat is even more terminally ill, after the Taoist priest met the old fairy and ate the fairy grass.

Completely, he gave up on himself.

"Ugly bastard, get up!" shouted a man at the top of his voice, "It's time to cook." ”

Daoist Fang ignored him, Daoist Fang pretended to sleep, Daoist Fang didn't want to eat or serve him, and the dead monkey: "Squeak! Squeak!" The dead monkey stretched out his hand and plucked the ears of the living dead, his face was full of displeasure!

"Hey-" Daoist Fang sighed and got up and cooked obediently.

"Squeak!" One Hundred and Eight nodded, smiling with satisfaction.

To deal with this kind of person, there is no need to be polite at all! Hmph! If you don't dare to get up again, you will directly hit the head with a stick and beat you to death!

What's more, one hundred and eight is the boss, big brother! I have to say, one hundred and eight is one hundred and eight, and his ability is a hundred times stronger than Boss Fang, and being a boss is more than enough. Don't underestimate one hundred and eight, one hundred and eight is no longer the one hundred and eight in the past, and now it is the one who dominates the mountains and forests by leading the group of monkeys, which is truly majestic and imposing! The back waves of the Yangtze River push the front waves, and one generation is stronger than the next, and Boss Fang has long been gone, and it is over.

"Take it and eat it. Daoist Fang handed over an egg and yawned. One hundred and eight glanced at it, and his face was uncertain. Immediately rolled his eyes, and actually took a sip: "Squeak!" "Squeak!" means not to eat. One hundred and eight don't eat eggs, one hundred and eight want to eat chicken butts, and it's baked and cooked, and it's a bite of the oily kind: "Squeak!"

But no.

If there is no chicken, there will be no chicken butt, and there will be no raw, cooked, or oily. Fang Hunter is no longer hunting, and one hundred and eight has not eaten chicken butts for a long time. One hundred and eight was angry. One hundred and eight is gone. It's not fun here at all, One Hundred and Eight will never come back! One Hundred and Eight is not going to play with him anymore, One Hundred and Eight still has a lot of things to do, such as-

Love.

One hundred and eight are in love.

This is normal and not surprising at all.

The object of one hundred and eight is a beautiful young female monkey.

It must be so, one hundred and eight has always been very picky, whether it is a person or a monkey, and generally does not look down on it at all.

For example, this useless, outdated boss, one hundred and eight can't look down on him anymore, and he doesn't deserve to be with one hundred and eight.

One hundred and eight was gone, never looking back.

Love is coming, and it can't be stopped, one hundred and eight are in a hurry, and the fire burns the ass!

Daoist Fang added firewood, threw the eggs into the pot, and boiled them.

One low table, two benches.

Two bowls of noodles, two people, one egg per person.

will eat, two people live a life, it has always been so simple.

And boring, tasteless.

didn't speak, the chief of the Su Dao was already silent, and the Fang Daoist also had nothing to say.

The two of them are, more and more, like.

Only the appearance is not the same, Su Dao Chang is still a beautiful man, fairy wind bones, although he is a little older.

And Daoist Fang.

"Why don't you go wash your face? Su Dao Chang took a few bites and sighed: "Just look at it, it makes people, and there is no appetite." ”

Daoist Fang bowed his head to eat and remained silent.

"Look for yourself, look at yourself. The chief shook his head and sighed, "Where is there still a little human appearance, ghost." ”

Daoist Fang bowed his head to eat and remained silent.

"Ahem!" Su Dao Chang nodded and said with a smile: "Aren't you leaving? ”

Daoist Fang did not speak when he did not exist.

Half a day.

After eating, the chief got up and walked away.

Daoist Fang went back to the house and lay down, and then went to sleep.

Here, as the same hundred and eight said, it's not fun at all.

Fang Yin couldn't sleep, lying in the hay, with two empty eyes open, not sleepy at all. Fang Yin said that he was leaving, and after saying it several times, Fang Yin didn't understand why he was still staying here. Reach out and slowly touch the scars on your face, one by one, one by one. Yes, it's a shame to go out, or wait.

Fang Yin is leaving.

It's time, it's time to go.

This is not Fang Yin's home, Fang Yin is going back, Jiangzhou.

Returning home, no. Majestic, no. If you can't do anything, you can come and go.

In the past few days, what I think about the most is the broken temple, my own little brother.

Fang Yin has grown up, and they have all grown up.

Two crooked, little sixth, bald, eighth...... The smiling faces in my memory, which were once familiar again, have been blurred. It is the river of time, day by day, day by day, repeatedly and constantly washing, making it lighter, lighter, lighter and lighter. One day, everything will be taken away, and those people and things will disperse like a passing cloud of smoke.

Fang Yin wants to go back to Qingzhou, and Fang Yin wants to go home.

Fang Yin wants to find his own home, the lost place in his dream, the real home! That big mansion came to life, laughter and laughter, warm embrace, tables, chairs, benches, fenced courtyards, men, women, and children, grass and trees, all of them are clear to the eye, and they can be seen clearly! Yes, it exists in Fang Yin's heart, it has always been there, it has always been there! The corpse, the sea of blood, the dazzling color like fire and the suffocation as heavy as water, whew-

Fang'er, Fang'er, Xiaofangzi, Xiaofangzi......

That place may not have been lost, but Fang Yin is running away! If you don't look for it, how can you find it! Fang Yin is afraid, Fang Yin doesn't dare to look for it, Fang Yin doesn't dare to go back, Fang Yin can't find it, but he doesn't dare to face the cruel reality and the pain of losing his loved ones, and escapes from the corner of his heart, a small corner of his heart that he is so miserable that he doesn't dare to touch.

Yes, that's it.

But it is also, and it is difficult to do it, a child.

Fang Yin fell asleep, crying and falling asleep.

Mother, mother, can only be seen in dreams, that gentle woman.

The day, the dreams whine, and the wind whimper.

Blowing a book in a dark corner, a few pages.

It was a sword book, and it was half a fragment of the book, the Records of the Heavenly Shadows.

A few pieces of jute paper, given by Lao Xue, an unobtrusive beard.

A hand-copied book, taught by Mu Zhang, an unreliable old miscellaneous child.

It's a strange book, and you have a relationship with it. This is a strange person, said the boss.

The sword spectrum does not record a style of swordsmanship, but the exercises are real exercises.

Boss Su said, since you can't understand that sword, it's better to practice that skill first.

The name is the Void Divine Skill. Daoist Fang has already begun to practice, and it is indeed a magical internal skill.

I've been practicing for days.

In any case, Fang Yin still had a little backbone.

Who took away Fang Yin, Fang Yin wanted him back, Fang Yin no longer ran away, and faced his bleak life-

Blood for blood!