I, Qing Huan

After the first time, they tried to come several times.

After the first few times, Nanyang was really tired after being tossed, listening to the soft whisper in the ear, feeling the back touch again and again, and fell asleep dimly in Qing Huan's arms.

Watching Nanyang sound asleep, Qing Huan turned off the dim lamp and closed his eyes while holding Nanyang's waist.

After the bell rang twelve times in the distance, she fell into a deep sleep groggy.

In the mist, she had a strange dream.

Same as last time, still in a sweltering valley full of blood. A lot of people died around, all with thrilling blood, some were intact corpses, some had become **** corpses, and the air was filled with disgusting stinky rot. There must have been a brutal battle here just now.

She seems to be dead.

Because she didn't stand on the ground, nor did she slash like the last time she chased the white-clothed woman with a sword. She was floating in the air, her fingers couldn't really grab into the palm of her hand, as if she was just a remnant of wandering soul, unwillingly wandering in the land of tragic death in her lifetime.

In a trance, she saw Nan Yang.

Nanyang knelt on the ground, holding a lifeless woman tightly in his arms. A snow-blue long sword pierced the woman's heart, the sword grid pressed against her chest, and the long blade pierced horribly from behind. The dazzling blood dyed Nan Yang's white clothes dark red. .

She stared at the dead woman for a long time before realizing that it was herself.

She is dead.

How did she die?

Qing Huan remembered for a long time before remembering what happened a few hours ago.

She wanted to kill Nanyang, because Nanyang was her own enemy of the sect, and father let himself kill her, she had to be obedient, she had to kill. Although she clearly understood in her heart that she was not willing to hurt that woman a single cent, she had no way to command her body. She had been forced by her father to drink human blood for too long, and she had been bitten out of her mind a long time ago, and she could no longer dominate her consciousness.

Since she lost her mind, every word and every action of her has to be controlled by her dad with fascination, just like a puppet pulled by a silk thread, he makes her laugh, she laughs, he makes her cry, she cries .

This body is already a half-dead puppet.

Dad said, go kill Nanyang. So she held up a sword with tears in her tears, and exhausted all her strength to swing at her beloved again and again.

She struggled desperately for countless times, but never once defeated the body controlled by Lost Heart Gu. Her consciousness was clearly still alive, but she could only watch as she personally sent Nanyang to the end with one sword and one sword.

Nanyang has not resisted, she was scarred by her own chop, unable to retreat, and desperately reached the cliff.

But he still didn't stop, even mobilizing the whole body's internal strength, aiming at her vitals and stabbing the last sword.

Nan Yang slowly closed his eyes, tears slid out from the corners of his eyes. She was quietly like a white crane waiting to return home, calmly facing the retribution she was about to accept.

But how could she really kill her?

That is the woman she loves most in her life.

If you and I must die, why would I choose to let you die?

Master, why would I choose to let you die?

Even if my body tells me that I can't love you anymore, but Master, my soul, and my instinct will always have supreme loyalty to you.

So at the last moment of lightning and flint, she abruptly reversed the movement of the sword in her hand and withdrew the sword. She did not stop, but squeezed Nanyang's hand holding Luoshuang, sent her chest to the tip of Luoshuang's sword, and steadily greeted her.

laugh--

The faint sound of the sword cutting the flesh and blood of the cloth roared in his ears.

The blood splattered from the pierced heart shook Nan Yang's face. When Nan Yang raised her eyes, the heavy blood stains on her eyelids blocked her from looking at her lover, one after another plump drops of blood dripped down her eyelashes.

Tick. Tick.

It dripped on her fingers that were gripping Nanyang, like red petals falling in a piece of fresh snow.

Sword into the heart, there is no cure.

She died very quickly, basically when Nan Yang hugged her powerless body, her soul pulled away, floating in the air blankly, looking at the pair in Nan Yang's arms that there was no longer Body with signs of life.

It turns out that he died like this.

original……

She committed suicide.

Nan Yang seemed to have forgotten to blink, and held his dead little apprentice blankly. For a long while, she raised her hand shivering, and touched Qing Huan's side face, cautiously that she wanted to touch but didn't dare. Her fingertips slowly swept across Qing Huan's delicate face, across her chin, across her throat, and finally stopped on the side of her neck and pressed it down gently.

It was as peaceful as death, completely losing the gurgling vitality that a normal person should have.

When Nan Yang realized the death of the person in her arms, her eyes were overwhelmed with confusion. She just knelt there stiffly, her blood-stained fingers tightly around the corpse's shoulders, and she dared not move.

The duel between the good and evil factions is still clamoring in the ears, the questions of the evil factions and the decent rants are endless. The chaotic sound of swords touching was like muddy river water mixed with disgusting water plants, pouring into people's eyes, nose and mouth desperately. They have their own debates that they want to argue with, and they also have their own forces that they want to fight for, but what they have to fight for has nothing to do with the pair of masters and disciples separated by death in the corner of the canyon.

Qing Huan wanted to wipe away the tears on Nanyang's face. She wanted to tell her, Master, don't cry, I don't regret it.

I never regret or blame you.

I understand that, as a decent lord, it was not your fault that you killed the evil factions more than ten years ago. Fortunately, I survived that catastrophe. I lived in northern Xinjiang and was adopted by you. It was not your fault to recognize the enemy as a teacher by mistake. I have always known that you are also helplessly ups and downs in this fate, you also have your own body. I understand, so, I never hated you, even for a moment.

I don't just hate you, I don't hate daddy, and I don't hate Beipu. I know that in this troubled world, you all have your own difficulties, and I fell victim to this, and it is not the result any one of you would like to see.

I don't hate you at all.

I just regret it.

Master, I will never be by your side anymore. How will you survive?

Who will take care of you?

They all think that you are the most powerful lord in the world, and they all think that you are cold, strong and impeccable. But only I know that Master is just an idiot who can't even take care of himself. He doesn't know how to make meals, and he can't wash his clothes. When he wants to eat candied haws, he won't ask for it. If you don’t have me anymore, who can take care of you like me, like a child?

Who can find out that you are as vulnerable as a child?

Master.

How can I feel relieved to die.

You see, you are crying like this, and there is no one to wipe your tears.

No one even realized that no matter how high a **** is, he would cry.

When she was about to raise her hand to touch the corner of Nanyang's eye, her eyes suddenly flashed.

After she was in a trance, she was no longer in the canyon where she was shouting. A piece of cold snowflakes fell on her hair. She rubbed her eyes and found that she had returned to Beichao Mountain, where snow drifted all the year round.

She didn't know what age it was, but she only vaguely saw a pair of notes on the lintel not far away, with a pair of gray crosslinks, and the four dark letters of the letter, which were rolled by the wind and snow, and could not be seen clearly.

Sitting on the stone bench in the courtyard, Nanyang looks as cool and elegant as before. She was wearing a simple and clean white dress with dark embroidered crane patterns, holding the snow-blue falling cream in her left hand, and gently stroking the sharp blade with the index finger of her right hand.

Nan Yang pursed her lips, frowning slightly, and then quickly unfolded in relief.

She held the hilt of Luoshuang's sword with her left and right hands, and slowly raised it so that the tip of the sword faced herself. She looked into the distance dreamily, pressing the blade of her sword against the heart of her chest. The sharp blade pressed out a few fine folds in her white clothes, and the hands clenching the hilt of the sword were slightly gazing.

What is she going to do?

Do you want to commit suicide?

Do not……

Can't...

No...

Nan Yang suddenly raised her lips and chuckled. She looked at the four big characters on the door lintel not far away, with a thin layer of tears floating in her eyes, as if she had finally gotten free, and she clenched the hilt tightly.

Master...

No.

Please.

please.

No.

After a while, those light brown eyes sank, sinking into a pool of decisiveness, and the snow-blue sword blade was sent into the thin body simply and neatly—

"division--"

Qing Huan struggled to sit up from the bed, and the sound of stopping in her sleep was still in her mouth.

She was sweaty all over, and the sweat from the tip of her nose was about to fall into the people, and there was a sharp pain in her eyebrows. With a slight movement of the hand resting on the edge of the bed, you can feel the sticky moisture in the palm.

"Well……"

Nan Yang, who was sleeping next to her, let out a dream, and turned over slightly, and her long, soft black hair slid down her bare shoulders and wrapped her red-scarred collarbone.

The cold wind from the window came in, and the crumpled chocolate candy paper on the table moved.

Again... it's a dream again.

Qing Huan's chest was up and down violently, and it took a long time to get rid of the too real dream. She tried to calm her breath, her eyes drooping slightly, just to see the crystal red round jade that Nanyang gave her on her neck.

This piece of jade...

It seems that since wearing this jade, she will always have strange dreams that seem to be true, and there will always be Nanyang in the dream. They seemed to have spent many long years together, and had many helpless differences. Some dreams she can remember after waking up a few pictures, but some dreams she can never remember again.

For example, the dream just now. It may still be vivid right now, but after a few hours and sleep again, there will be no traces in the memory. She can only remember the content of the dream during the few hours she was dreaming and the moment she just woke up. Once her sleepiness is completely removed, she will forget most of the things she dreamed of.

She can only remember that she had one strange dream after another. When thinking about the specific plot again, only a few fuzzy pictures flashed before my eyes.

For example, Nanyang dressed in white.

For example, a snow-blue long sword stuck in his chest.

Although she knew that they were all dreams, there was an unspeakable feeling in her heart, like a green sprout barely covered by thin soil, ready to emerge, but she couldn't break the ground.

Hesitating to speak and stop is precarious.

Nanyang beside him moved again. Because Qing Huan sat up abruptly, a corner of the quilt was lifted, and the cold wind poured into the originally warm quilt, freezing the cold woman who was sleeping.

Nanyang's sleep has always been light, and the cool wind whipped her arm and she woke up.

Seeing Qing Huan sitting in a daze by the bed, she rubbed her sleepy eyes, her voice was muted: "Qing Huan, what's the matter?"

Qing Huan heard Nan Yang’s voice, her nose was sore, she bent down to hug Nan Yang, and said aggrievedly in her ear: "I, I just had a dream, I...I... dreamed of you. , Committed suicide."

Nan Yang was stunned.

She quickly concealed the gaffe under her eyes, hugged Qinghuan, and whispered softly and gently: "How could I commit suicide? If I do, who is lying here?"

"Yeah." Qing Huan hugged her tightly again.

"Go to bed, don't you want to return to work tomorrow?" Nan Yang rubbed that charming long curly hair.

"It's okay." Qing Huan paused, only to realize that she had destroyed Nanyang's dream, and she felt guilty, "I... did I make you sleep?"

"No, I slept lightly, not to blame you."

As soon as he finished speaking the Nanyang dialect, there was a long, thin abdomen with a "gu-".

Wake up late at night, hunger is inevitable. After all, the last bite of food she ate was the caviar sushi that Qinghuan stuffed her hard.

"Hungry?" Qing Huan was immediately distracted. She kissed Nanyang's earlobe and motioned her to let go of herself, "Wait for me, I'll make you some food."

"For the big night, forget it." Nanyang didn't want to delay her shooting tomorrow.

Knowing that she didn't want to trouble herself, Qing Huan changed her words: "Then if I don't cook, I'll make some honey water for you."

Nan Yang touched his stomach, was silent for a long while, unable to feel the pressing hunger in his stomach, and finally nodded.

Qing Huan put on her fluffy pajamas, put on warm cotton slippers, got out of bed, and walked over to the coffee table. She turned out the bag of honey she usually drinks from the tray, turned on the electric kettle to boil water, and poured the honey into a clean glass. After pouring a small bag, she glanced at Nanyang who was wearing clothes, thought for a moment, then opened another small bag and poured it in.

In fact, one bag is enough, but since the woman is so sweet, give her more.

After the water was boiled, she took a small metal spoon and stirred while pouring the water, and quickly soaked a cup of rich honey water. She carefully held the hot rim of the water glass, and walked into the bedroom in small steps.

Nan Yang was only wearing a white cotton shirt with delicate wooden buttons. When he did that, the shirt was pressed under them, and the collar of the shirt was very wet. Because of the stickiness, Nanyang didn't go to button a few buttons nearby, so there are four buttons on the top of her placket, which are all open. The beautiful scenery is hidden by the damp collar with filthy colors. It makes people afraid to look directly.

Qing Huan gave a dry cough and forced herself to look at the glass in her hand.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pinched a small spoon, scooped up a small spoonful of honey water, and carefully cooled. After blowing, she first touched her lower lip to make sure that the temperature was just right, then raised the spoon to Nan Yang's mouth.

Nan Yang lightly opened her lips, and contained the spoonful of honey water.

Qing Huan looked at the tip of her tongue that protruded slightly when she opened her mouth, and couldn't help swallowing.

Obviously Nanyang didn't do anything extraordinary, but she actually felt that every move she made was seduce herself.

Nanyang drank six spoons, then stopped: "It's okay, it is not advisable to overeat at night."

"Drink some more."

She also wanted to see her little ruddy tongue licking the metal spoon.

"……Ok."

Nan Yang has always only indulged her, no matter what unreasonable request she made, she would agree.

Qing Huan fed a whole cup of honey water into Nanyang’s belly, but she hadn’t seen enough. Nanyang drinking honey water was really tempting, like a horse standing next to an ancient Roman column drinking water. Noble white horse. She glanced at the empty glass, hurriedly got up and walked to the living room, and said, "I'll make you another glass."

Nanyang: "..."

The second cup is also fed quickly.

The third cup was delivered hurriedly.

Cup after cup.

Like its owner, without restraint, there is no end.

When Qing Huan was about to make the fourth cup, Nan Yang grabbed her wrist and frowned, "I...really full."

She put her hands on her lower abdomen, and she could see that there was a circle through a layer of shirt.

Only then did Qing Huan realize what she had done just now, and her face blushed.

"Go to sleep." Nanyang took the glass in Qinghuan's hand and placed it on the bedside table, pulling her to lead her to bed, "Tomorrow you have to get up early, don't stay up late."

Qing Huan lay down beside Nanyang obediently, helped Nanyang tuck the quilt, hugged Nanyang, and rubbed her long black hair.

Nanyang didn't speak again.

After a long time, Qing Huan could clearly hear from Nan Yang's breath that she had not fallen asleep.

"What's the matter, can't you sleep?" She asked the person in her arms.

Nan Yang pursed her lips and replied softly, "...a little bit up."

Drink too much honey water.

Qinghuan put her hand on Nanyang's lower abdomen guiltily, and gently rubbed her through a layer of clothing, "I'm sorry...I...I shouldn't have given you so much."

"...It's okay."

"Go to sleep... Go to sleep..."

Nan Yang closed his eyes, and the discomfort in his abdomen was relieved a lot with Qing Huan's proper caressing. She was already very tired tonight. After her belly was filled, she was surrounded by her warm and watery wife, and she soon became sleepy.

Slowly, her breathing became longer.

Qing Huan brewed for a long time, but couldn't sleep anymore.

She bit her lip tightly and couldn't help but recall the dream not long ago. In fact, she can't remember the content of the dream clearly, but she suddenly had a thought. Although it appeared inexplicably, it was extremely strong and urgent.

When they treated each other sincerely, the light in the room was very dim, and she did not see Nan Yang's body clearly.

She really wants to take a look now.

Nanyang was already asleep, her slender eyelashes resting on her lower eyelids, shaking gently with her breathing. Qing Huan picked up the phone quietly, barely illuminated it with the screen light, and carefully unbuttoned the few buttons on the white shirt. After the last one was untied, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened her collar.

On the cold and white skin on his chest, there is a hideous deep scar at the heart of the left chest.