In the past, Chu Yan would wake up in the morning and eat something and run down the ground, but this day was a little late.

Just as he was passing by the woodshed, he suddenly saw a large cluster of gladiolus along the way.

Large flowers are very rare in the north. Chu Yan knew them because he had read the paintings in books and knew that they were flowers outside. Such flowers usually grow because of seeds from outside disciples who were out and returned to the Zen courtyard and fell to the ground. Due to climate problems, few bloom so vigorously.

In the past, even if he saw flowers, Chu Yan would have walked by without any interest. When he saw these flowers on this day, he could not walk.

The gladiolus blooming on the roadside is as thin as silk, delicate as a girl with a weak bones and rich skin.

Somehow he remembered the girl in white who had seen in her dream before chained in a pool of blood.

These days he practiced swords in the underground dark room. Although he could hear female voices, he never saw that dreamlike woman again.

The beauty of the woman formed a sharp contrast with the dark basement. Thinking of the fact that there was no place for a single grass, Chu Yan couldn't help but stop and circumvent the clump of gladiolus.

After wandering around the flowers for a long time, he chose the three he was most satisfied with, carefully cut them with a sword, and hugged them in his arms.

Although it was an hour later than before, Chu Yan was running down the ground with a bouquet of flowers.

Can she see it?

Will she like it?

Can she... remember him?

Such questions circled in his mind, because he was too selfless, which made him ignore the breath of another person floating in the corridor.

...

...

Chu Yan held the bouquet and stood blankly before the faint iron gate. His eyes slowly moved downward and looked at the scattered chains under the iron gate.

The chain had no signs of breakage, and the keyhole was open intact. The visitor opened the door lock with a key from outside.

Chu Yan was like he was in an ice cellar.

Yes.

Two months left, which was a little longer than every time the man went out, which made him dream a little longer and almost forgot his identity.

I also forgot the fact that that person will come back sooner or later.

The bouquets in Chu Yan's arms all fell to the ground with a clatter, contaminated with the black mud.

He stepped across the falling petals and pushed open the empty iron door with his hands.

The dark room was still as quiet as ever.

Just after the entrance of the cave he was familiar with, a tall figure stood by the blood pool with his hands on his back, staring at the fire beside the pool.

The moment he saw that figure, Chu Yan's children's hole shrank violently.

The owner of the Zen temple is back.

He entered the Zen temple for five years, but he had hardly seen the owner of this hell with his own eyes.

What he was more familiar with was the golden Buddha statue in the small Buddhist temple, rather than the figure in front of him.

But that familiar aura and a suffocating sense of oppression made Chu Yan understand in an instant who the man standing not far away was.

Looking at the tall figure standing by the blood pool, Chu Yan felt fear from the bottom of his heart and instinctively wanted to escape, but his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground and he couldn't move.

"You are here? Are you a little late today? The firewood is about to be burned?"

The man standing by the blood pool with his hands behind his back did not turn around, and spoke Dandan.

Chu Yan's hands were spasming, and he slowly fell to the ground and pressed his forehead against the cold stone bricks.

"The disciple is guilty and asks the Zen Lord to surrender."

"It's not enough to surrender," the man said in a calm voice. "This fire is not so easy to extinguish. But she has a bad temper and not everyone can get close to her."

"You have taken good care of her in the past two months."

A cold sweat oozed from Chu Yan's forehead. He didn't know if it was because he had a ghost in his heart. At this time, he felt that everything the owner of the Zen temple said was indicative.

The next moment, the sentence he was most afraid of rang out.

"Thank you for these two months, and you won't have to come again after that."

With a bang, the rope on his back basket suddenly broke, and a gust of wind surged around him. Chu Yan raised his head and watched the basket of firewood being swept up by the wind in the air and fell into the hands of the man standing by the blood pool.

At this time, the man by the pool turned around.

Chu Yan's heart was thrilled.

The first thing that caught his eye was a Shura mask that was most common in the Zen temple.

The man wore an ordinary but ferocious iron face on his face, a plain cloth shirt, no ornaments, no gold and jade, and no wolf teeth. Although he looked tall, he was only medium-sized compared to the thirteen-year-old children. Compared with the Xirong noble elders in the Zen temple, his figure was only medium, even a little short.

Putting aside the terrifying aura on his body, this person is as ordinary as a high-level disciple who can be seen everywhere in the Zen temple.

Chu Yan looked at the person blankly, and a bone-black chill suddenly appeared in his heart.

In other words, if this person hides his breath and walks in the Zen temple, even if he passes by himself, he may not be able to find it.

So has this person done this?

"What? Doesn't my appearance meet your expectations?"

The man's calm voice came, and Chu Yan suddenly lay on the ground, not daring to raise his head, and shivered.

"Disciple doesn't dare."

"Okay," the man snorted, grabbed the firewood basket with one hand, and waved at him, "You go."

Chu Yan lay on the ground and slowly opened his eyes wide.

For some reason, he actually heard a trace of fatigue from this person's voice.

But even the exhausted wolf king, raising his claws can make people doomed. Chu Yan knew that the most important thing he should do now was to retreat with tactfulness and forget everything he saw and heard here, just pretend that nothing had happened.

But when he realized it, he couldn't help but speak.

"Zen, Zen master."

The man was a little impatient, "What's the matter?"

"Brother, disciple, don't you use it anymore?"

Chu Yan asked while stuttering.

"Didn't I just say it?"

With a swish, there was a sword mark on the floor tiles in front of him.

Chu Yan suddenly stepped back, his heart thrilled.

The next moment, there was only a tingling sound, and the thin rope he tied to his neck was neatly cut off, and the key of the iron door rolled to the ground.

Chu Yan looked at the key on the ground and felt completely cold.

The key was swept up by the wind and fell into the hands of the man by the pool.

The man held the key, turned around, and left a sentence, "Get out."

Chu Yan looked at the back and got up from the ground rustlingly. His mind was blank, and he felt nothing in his heart. I wonder if he was numb.

He only knew that there was no room for improvement in everything and he could never come here again.

He stays there unless he doesn't live.

Chu Yan turned around mechanically and walked towards the iron gate with heavy steps.

His dream ended for two months.

It's nothing, it's reality, he is powerless and unwilling to resist.

After dreaming at midnight, Chu Yan had imagined countless times what he would become if he had not seen the next scene that day.

It is hard to imagine, but at least he would not become the elder of the Zen temple, nor would he be like this now.

Chu Yan stood in the long river of memory, looking at the thirteen-year-old self walking out of the dark room step by step, pushing open the iron door, turning around and trying to cover the door again.

But the next moment, the boy holding the door froze.

The flash of fire in the darkness was the moment of turning around.
Chapter completed!