Qingcheng kowtowed three times to Bu Nanxiao, then turned to Gao Qiuchan: "Come on, I'm ready."
"etc!"
Of course Bu Nanxiao knew what would happen next, and he also knew that from the overall situation, he had no reason to stop it. He was just a person with too warm heart who could not watch his friend die in front of his eyes, no matter how much righteousness he had in front of him.
Friend? Of course, of course, this woman who can be his friend through life and death, whether she is a human or a demon, can bear the word "friend"
"I..." He hesitated, not knowing how to speak, "What else can I do for you?"
"Yes" she was still kneeling and smiling
"What?"
"Hug me," she said, wrinkled her nose, "I often wonder how warm your arms are."
He smiled helplessly, what a childish question. He knelt down and gently took her into his arms. He was obviously smiling, but his nose felt a little sore the moment he held her. To be honest, even if he loved Ren Celadon so much,
He has never cried for her, but at this moment, facing such a loyalty that is not love but is better than love, he wants to cry a little bit
And Qingcheng was completely stunned the moment she was held in his arms. In fact, every answer she gave was wrong.
There was no warmth at all in Bu Nanxiao's embrace. It was cold, so cold to the core. She pushed him away in shock and stared into his eyes. But Bu Nanxiao smiled slightly because of her expression: "Silly girl, who told you that I
Are your arms warm?"
It is impossible for a person living in the dead world to have a warm embrace. He has no right to exception. It is just that his warm smile has given too many people the illusion that he is warm from the inside out. In fact, it is not true. Maybe only he knows it.
, in so many desolate and lonely nights, how cold is my heart?
He smiled warmly because she said she liked him and kept it until she said she didn't need it anymore, but the smile gradually became a habit.
Qingcheng finally knew the secret. It turned out that this man who warmed her had never experienced warmth. Before she died, she saw all the hidden fragility of this gentle man: "Thank you," she held his hand and gently
He breathed softly into his palm, softly and warmly forming a tear.
Qingcheng's body gradually dissipated and turned into a beautiful fragment of a dream.
Bu Nanxiao couldn't bear to look at it and lowered his head solemnly: "Too many people have died for this dream."