The heart that asks for books sinks deeper and deeper into the cold abyss
Before dawn, he had already stood up, picked up the bamboo flute, walked out of the hut, and sat by the stream to play the flute.
This is a thatched house in the mountains. The sharp peaks on all sides are like bamboo shoots, green and fresh, and full of spiritual energy.
There is gurgling water at the foot of the mountain and chirping birds in the forest. It is a good place to live in seclusion and escape from the world.
No, there are no good places in this world, only places where you can live or not.
With nowhere to go, he huddles here, tasting loneliness and desolation alone
He had trouble falling asleep and practiced martial arts or read until late at night every day. He also got up early in the morning to practice martial arts or play the flute.
He doesn't let himself think about anything, because nothing belongs to him
The lonely whistle floats faintly in the bamboo forest, sometimes coherent, sometimes intermittently, with no lingering sound, no emotion, no whereabouts, like a ray of lonely soul.
The thin morning light penetrated the clouds on the horizon and sprinkled little by little into the bamboo forest. The sky slowly became brighter, but his heart was still immersed in darkness with no light.
When the sun rises, a person who only belongs to the darkness, like a shadow, slowly walks into the bamboo forest, following the sound of Xiao, walking towards the lonely man
Wenshu was immersed in his own whistle. In fact, he didn't think about anything, he just blew
He didn't stop until he couldn't feel the wind anymore. He stared at the stream for a long time, then slowly got up and walked towards the bamboo house.
A ghostly figure has been following him
When Wenshu entered the house, he also wanted to follow him.
Wenshu suddenly turned his head and stared at him coldly: "What do you want to do?"
The person who came here was wearing a raincoat, a bamboo hat on his head, the brim of his hat was very low, he was of medium height, and his appearance was not impressive.
He didn't raise his head and just said: "Tell you something."
"I don't care about anything"
“You’ll care if you listen.”
"You should care about whether you get out of here alive."
The visitor did not argue with him: "Whether I can live or not is not a problem for you. You must care about a person's life and death."
Wenshu's tone became even colder: "Whoever dies has nothing to do with me."
"Where is Xuanyuan Ghost?"
There was a chill and thorn in Wenshu's eyes: "Don't tell me about him."
"There is nothing to say about him. If a person dies, what else can be said?"
Wenshu suddenly turned around and stared at him: "You are a madman. Who in the world can want him to die? If he wants to die by himself, that is his business."
"He was jointly attacked by us"
"You are one of them"
"yes"
"You think I can't kill you?"
"You can kill me"
Wenshu's kung fu is not inferior to that of a demon-level killer. Now that he has lost one of his hands, he has no upper hand.
"If you want to die, I will make it happen for you."
"The new owner of the bunker is Ye Shengxiang"
Wenshu smiled a little creepily: "Do you think I will believe you?"