There is obviously the sound of the flute, but it makes people feel very quiet
This kind of whistling sound seems to be a part of nature, just like the wind blowing through the leaves. It is not noisy and can be ignored at any time.
Wenshu stood on the top of the mountain, blowing his whistle. If it weren't for the whistle, people would doubt that he was alive.
He completely forgets himself and lets his soul drift away with the sound of Xiao, without any trace.
No one will play the flute with him anymore, and the flute's whistle has become a legend.
The sound of footsteps walking towards him
Normally, these footsteps would never make a sound, but in front of him, there was an exception.
Only in front of him, this person will not be wary, because they are father and son, indestructible blood relatives
He stood behind Wenshu and listened quietly to his whistle
What a beautiful whistle. He hadn't heard it in a long time. He once forgot how beautifully his son played it.
When his son was young, he liked to listen to Shu'er playing the flute.
There was an intoxicated expression on his face. He was not a god of death, but a father.
The sound of the Xiao is so beautiful that it seems that time has forgotten its flow.
When the whistle stops, the world seems to have forgotten to breathe
Wenshu stood quietly for a while, then turned and walked down the mountain. He walked past Xuanyuan Ghost Man, as if he didn't see him.
"Shu'er——" Xuanyuan Ghost Man called him, without his usual majesty and coldness: "Do you hate me so much?"
He looks like a real old man like this
Wenshu stopped but did not look back: "I don't hate anyone."
Yes, he only hates himself
There was a bit of sadness in Xuanyuan Ghost's voice: "Are you going to abandon me as a father?"
Wenshu didn't say anything for a while, then he sneered coldly: "You gave up everything."
For the first time in so many years, Xuanyuan Ghost defended himself: "But I have not abandoned you, you are my greatest wealth."