"Come on, brother, introduce you to the introduction, this is a small sister under my door, called Song Qiutong."

In the end, I sat down with a hard scalp, and I was introduced to the wine table by Nangong. Song Qiutong Song Qiutong, he even has a scorpion on her back, where the birthmarks of the legs have a clear understanding of the place, where you need to say more.

But the face was still stretched, and the restraint nodded: "Song girl."

"This is a pro-disciple of Chu Zongshi, the ink rain of the dead and the dead. You should have seen him in the town of Choi Butterfly before, but at that time there were many people, I guess you can't remember."

Song Qiutong Wen Xiao smiled and got up and said: "Little girl Qiu Tong, I have seen Mo Xianjun."

"..."

The ink burned and did not get up. The deep scorpion looked at her for a long while, and then said: "Polite."

For the wife of his previous life, the smoldering is actually disgusting in his heart. This kind of nausea is not only after the reincarnation, but the past life has been deep into the bone marrow, and it is indelible.

When I met him a few times ago, he never looked at her directly, so although he was disgusted, he did not feel so happy today.

She is a soft and weak woman, talking and talking, always whispering. She is like the green fruit of the tree in the early autumn, hidden behind the lush leaves, the smell is not as fragrant as the flowers, the color is not compelling, but it is very popular, the slim and full body, filled with endless Green and gentle, like a light sip, you can taste the sweet and sour taste of the juice.

Only when you get to the depths, you will find a rotten stinky insect lying inside, dead in the core, the insect body pus, with mildew.

It is true that compared to him, Song Qiutong, the last generation, seems to have never done anything evil. Nothing is to betray the Confucianism that saved her life. Nothing is when the ink burns the massacre, and the tribute leaves the forgotten to protect themselves. Nothing is that when she was in the blood of the sacred mountain, she was overwhelmed by the reward of smoldering, wearing gold and silver, dressing herself up and waiting to serve the new owner.

Nothing, that is, after the end of the massacre, she expressed her heartfelt heart and cried in front of the dead body who would never speak again. She said that she would treat her evil and never give her a good day, if not The ink burned, and I was afraid that she would give the horse of the surname Ye a horse for the rest of her life.

anything else?

The ink burned silently.

What else?

Nangong Temple is an acute child. There are several dishes that have not been delayed. He has urged the dishes to go. So there are only two couples in the room.

"Mo Gongzi, I respect you a cup." She sipped for him, half of the arm from the sleeves, a little blush on the wrist.

The ghost made the difference, and the ink burned his hand and caught her wrist.

She sighed softly, lifted her throat, and stared at him with horror, her eyes soft and tender as if she were with water: "Mu Gongzi, you are..."

The ink burned on her face, looked at it for a while, and her eyes fell, stopping on the delicate hand of her jade fingers.

"It’s really a good hand." For a long time, he whispered, his face was cold, "Song girl can play chess?"

"Slightly, slightly pass one or two."

"So good with both hands, when you can get a good game." He said coldly. Outside the footsteps of Nangong Temple, and his domesticated wolf dog, he called at the door.

"Unbelievable." The ink burned Song Qiutong's fine wrist, and then took a piece of towel, carefully wiped his fingers.

Outside the head of the sun shines on the long light shot, here the spring night building banquet opens.

The ink burned as usual, as if nothing had happened. Although Song Qiutong was despised for no reason, she was able to endure it, and she got up again and burned a glass of wine for the ink.

He didn't drink her awkward wine, so he never touched the cup again.

Nangong martyr said: "Mu brother, not long after the Lingshan Conference, you are the apprentice of Chu Zongshi, you can not tell him to lose face. Can you be ready?"

"I'm not going."

"... are you not really talking about it?"

"Really." The ink burned and laughed. "My cousin is enough. The martial art all over the world goes to Lingshan. I am afraid of excitement and don't want to go."

Nangong Temple does not seem to believe at all. He picks up brown eyes and looks like an eagle eagle.

But the ink burned a pair of scorpions and looked at him without reservation.

The eagle stared at the rock for a while and found that the rock was really just a rock. There was no hiding rabbit or a snake.

He leaned back on the back of the chair and turned the chopsticks. He suddenly grinned. "Somewhat it means, then I can't see you at Lingshan Conference?"

"I can't see me."

Nangong Yu added a hand and sneered: "The apprentice of Chu Zongshi is awesome, so it is rare to participate in such a grand event."

"..."

It’s hard to say, how to explain it? Is it not like this, saying that he is a 30-year-old deceitful old ghost, letting Teng Xianjun fight with a group of fledgling children, and sitting on the stage again, killing and playing in his life. The head of the fight, this group of directors will also give him a small sign, playing a small point.

... it’s just a mess.

Coughing, he said: "It is not rare to participate, but I am not good at orthodoxy. I don't know how to learn. If I go, I will give it to the master. If Nangong is so good, I will have the cost. Don't laugh at me."

This made Xue Meng, an innocent little chick, listen to it. He would probably be very happy. He felt that the ink was burning against the hair, but Nangong was in the intricate Confucianism of the faction. He had no mother since childhood. The days are actually not so simple, so I listened to the compliment of ink burning, but also smiled, and did not float without knowing.

He sipped a few bites of wine, rolled his throat, and then took a sleeve and said: "Since the ink son does not participate, the onlookers are clear, it is better to guess, the leader of the conference, who will eventually fall?"

"..." Ink ignited, you **** really asked the right person.

Who else can spend more than he knows? In addition to the false hook that is very likely to be born again, the world will certainly have his ink rain to know the result of the Lingshan sword.

The winner is...

"Nan Gong Temple."

Suddenly, the bead curtain was brushed open, and in the faint halo, the half-cageed face in the shadow. The two men in the room had not responded yet, but Song Qiutong was still in a slap in the face, and his face was full of pitiful sorrows. He apologized and said: "Ye, Ye Gongzi."

The body of the person is quite straight, and the black dress embroidered with dark gold rims is tied with a wristband, and the waist is extremely thin. The three-pointed beauty between the eyebrows and the handsome seven-pointer is not the leaf forgetting who is it?

"I didn't call you." Ye did not look at her for a moment, she opened the bead curtain and walked into the house. His eyes were always on the same person. It looked very cold, but it flashed some other shreds of light. Hey, I am calling you. You have to hear it and raise your head."

Nangong Temple did not look up, but instead said to Song Qiutong: "What are you doing up? Sit down."

"No, Nangong Gongzi, my generation is humble, I still stand."

Nangong was suddenly furious and shouted: "Sit down!"

Song Qiu Tong shivered and held the table, hesitating.

Ye forgets not to be so stiff, cold and said: "You listen to him."

"Thank you, Ye Gongzi..."

Ye Qingxiu no longer cares about Song Qiutong, but said: "Namiya, what time do you have to make trouble? The head is mad. Get up, go back with me."

"That's best. I will be crazy when he is. He will die when I am back! I haven't talked about going back. Before he recovers, I won't step back to the Confucianism." Nangong slammed a word. "Ye, Gong, Zi, you please come back."

"You--" Ye forgets the handcuffs into a fist, the whole person is shaking slightly, and the ink burns beside him. He feels that he seems to take a table of banquets at any time and pull it straight away, but the leaves are forgotten. After all, he was a gentleman, and he was so hard to suppress the anger of the sky.

"Nan Gong Yu." He silenced a few times, then opened his mouth, his voice was hoarse, with some exhaustion that was contrary to his straight face. "Do you really have to do this?"

"What is it?"

Ye forgets to close his eyes, sighs incomparably, and slowly opens. He stood at the table and finally turned his head and looked at the ink.

They all said that the ugliness of the family cannot be exalted. Of course, the things in the martial art do not want others to know. The ink burned and stood up, and said that they had forgotten the past, saying: "I just remembered, I still have to go to the ready-to-wear store in the evening. Clothes, go to the late and let the shopkeeper wait a long time, then take a step."

Ye Jingxiu nodded to him: "Thank you for the son of Mo."

"I don't thank you, you talk."

The ink burned away from the leaves, and when he was wrong, he looked at him intentionally or unintentionally. When he was close, he discovered that although Ye Yexi was still tall and straight, like cypress, his temperament was steady and deep, but his eyes were slightly reddish, and he seemed to have just cried before coming.

The smoldering of the ink suddenly felt that the forbearance of the leaves had been so awful, and it was similar to that of Chu.

He was in a hurry and couldn't help but turn back and said to Nan Gongyi: "Nan Gong Gongzi, although I don't know what entanglement between you and Ye Gongzi, but I think he treats you very well. If you want to, Have a good talk with him, don't hide and talk about something."

Nangong Temple did not appreciate it. He was on the head and did not care about his relatives. He said coldly: "Don't take care of you."

"..." This short-lived ghost!

The ink burned away. Before going downstairs, I heard the anger of Nangongyu in the room. The young dog-wolf was tearing the soul of the leaves with his sharp teeth. He is questioning him -

"Leaves the past! What kind of ecstasy soup did you give to my father? Let him see you more important than me!! Go back? What do I go back to with you? From small to big, what can I do for myself? Ah? Ye forgets me, I ask you, what are you... what do you do for me!!"

When the table fell down, the dishes and cups smashed into the ground.

The maids standing in the aisle were all scared and chilled, and more guests came out from their own compartments.

"what's wrong?"

"Hey, who is so tempered, smashing this posture, don't give up the restaurant."

The ink burned his lips and looked back at the end of the walk.

He heard the sound of the leaves forgetting, like the dry leaves of autumn, dry and dry, and lifeless.

"Nangong, if I let you stay at home unhappy. Then I will go, no longer appear in front of you."

"..."

"You go back." Ye said, "Please."

If you don't hear it, you can't believe it in any way. A person who is as straight as a leaf will say a weak word like "seeking."

In his impression, Ye Yexi is a gentleman who is unstoppable. He is an invincible **** of war. He can imagine that he is bleeding, but he can't imagine him crying. He can imagine his death, but he can't imagine that he will kneel.

But today, he was actually in the restaurant, in front of Song Qiutong, said to a man, beg you.

The ink burns and closes the eyes.

It is unclear how many things a person has lived for a lifetime.

No one is red or bare naked in front of people. People hide their bodies with clothes and hide their emotions with words and expressions. People wrapped themselves in their arms, and the neck looked like a flower branch. The whole person gave the world a happy face, singing Tsing Yi’s singing green clothes, singing a small student’s singing singer, the world is like a play, and the world is pure. Ugly, it should be clear.

After singing for a long time, who can accept the sleeves of the sleeves, the eyes of the phoenix, and sang again?

But when the shackles stopped, the harps were silent, and the night was quiet. Everyone washed away the heavy oil paint, and the greasy water and dirt took away the sharp and angular faces in the day, revealing the strange facial features.

It turns out that Hua Dan is a heroic man, and Wu Sheng has a pair of gentle eyes.

The ink burned back to his hut, and he was thinking, he lived for two lifetimes. In the end, he saw the sentient beings? Have you seen yourself a few points?

A late night, let his heart die and die, die and resurrect, Chu nightning...

So he remembered that Nangong Temple actually mistaken him for being a late night, some funny, how could this be wrong.

But when I washed, I suddenly found the man in the bronze mirror, wearing a high ponytail, wearing a simple white warlock gown.

The ponytail was arbitrarily tied in the morning. The sorcerer’s gown was because the old clothes were a little smaller a few days ago. He went to the shop to pick clothes. He turned around and found a white dress very beautiful. He didn’t think much, didn’t think about it. Why do you think that this dress is beautiful, I bought it and put it on my body.

Looking at the mirror, he suddenly understood.

It turned out that this white dress is so similar to the one that Chu nightning once had.

The bronze mirror is dim, the past life is like a dream, and the person who looks at the mirror in the ink is like the heavy color of this dream, seeing the fragments of Chu Xiening and seeing his phantom.

The wash water has not been dried, and the chin that has gradually hardened along the lines has fallen.

He stood in front of the mirror, and some of them understood it, just as his night-time **** was imitating the night-time **** of Chu-Lingning, and he himself was imitating his own master.

The ink burned subconsciously in the red dust to find Chu night Ning's figure, could not find, he actually became him.

——

Years are like a shuttle. I am remorse, or something else.

I can't see you, thinking about how you would do if you encounter such a thing. You will smile when you see something, and you will be annoyed when you see it.

I think of you before I do everything, I want to make you happy when I do everything.

I thought, "If you are, I will do this, will you nod? Will you be willing to boast me a little and say that I have not done anything wrong."

I think this way every day, buried in the bone marrow, became a habit. So later, I didn’t even realize it myself.

It turns out that I have lived in my mind, your appearance.

The author has something to say:

Today, the bib has a "Frost and a sword and a meat bag". The cute dog that is painted in the snow. ~~~ It’s really cute.~~I can draw in the snow, I am in the snow. Will only write "hahaha" and "666"? It’s a sad story QAQ

The bib "meat is big devil", there is a small partner reaction can not find, I do not know why 啥QAQ, there is a baby said to be replaced by a computer can be found, if it is not convenient to change the computer, you can try to search for " Chu nightning?" I used to send a bib to the label of Chu Xiaoning, and I should be able to search through Weibo content~

The avatar is a cat with a label horrified, hahaha~