Wujiang suddenly grabbed her hand, "My body is protected by my parents, so why bother to hurt myself?"
"Little monk, what is true and what is false?" Hua Xi raised her head and asked for no reason.
Wujiang was startled, why did she suddenly ask such a question?
"Truth is also false, false is also true, what is true and what is false depends only on how you face the world with your heart."
With his eyes slightly red, Hua Xi pursed her lips and said nothing.
Sometimes people think they are living in reality, but in fact, they are blinded by illusions.
Wujiang spread her hands and carefully picked out the broken dregs of the teacup, trying to bandage her wounds.
Hua Xi retracted her hand if she realized it, and smiled at her: "I'll do it myself. I have good healing medicine there. You can take a rest."
"You should also rest." Wujiang said calmly, watching her go out and close the door.
There was a little bit of her blood on his fingers.
He took out the handkerchief from his arms and was about to wipe it, but he accidentally saw the small word "Xi" embroidered on the snow-white silk handkerchief.
He suddenly froze, and slowly tightened his fingers.
"Hahaha, the little monk has moved his heart. What should I do?"
A slightly coquettish, yet vaguely affectionate voice sounded from the window.
Wujiang's pure brows frowned slightly, and he quietly put the handkerchief back into his sleeve, but he didn't want a gust of light wind to pass by his eyes.
The handkerchief was pinched by a thin white hand.
A charming and bright little face appeared in front of her eyes, and accompanied by a soft sound of bells, she appeared out of thin air.
Her hair was also styled in a delicate butterfly bun, each carrying two unique little butterflies, with fine colored diamonds fluttering and fluttering, really like butterfly wings.
The tube top skirt, without lining, boldly exposed her snow-white neck and shoulders. The skirt broke when it reached the thighs, revealing her slender legs.
A pair of deerskin boots fit very delicately onto Wujiang's legs.
"You..." Being approached so boldly, Wujiang panicked for a moment. He quickly pushed her away and said righteously, "Please respect yourself, the female donor."
"Haha..." The girl laughed like a silver bell, "Sifan's little monk dares to tell me about self-respect?"
Wujiang looked away, turned around, and turned his back to her.
The white silk handkerchief in his hand was slowly put back into his sleeve and put away.
"That silk handkerchief, is that woman's?" The girl stood behind him with a smile, her hands behind her back, and her deerskin boots tapping on the ground.
Wujiang was silent and didn't seem to want to pay attention to her.
He lowered his head and began to recite scriptures silently to purify his thoughts and soul.
"Are you chanting sutras again? Amitabha Buddha, Amitabha Buddha, are you tired?" The girl took out a wooden fish from the talisman and smiled lightly, "How about you chant sutras and I help you knock the wooden fish?"
As he said that, he started knocking on the wooden fish.
After knocking twice, Wujiang turned around and snatched the wooden fish from her hand.
"Princess Fenglan, please don't blaspheme Buddhism." He said solemnly, carefully placing the wooden fish. His movements and demeanor were simply one word - pious!
This girl is none other than Feng Lan, the princess of the Demonic Wind Region...
