The sound of the whimpering sound was deep and deep. Every year, the face of the year was becoming increasingly unreal under the shade of the trees.

After listening for more than ten seconds, Song Qing sighed. Shisui also moved the jade pendant away, looked at the yew tree behind him suspiciously, and subconsciously touched his throat.

"I've played well and reminded me of the distant rookie time." Song Qing criticized tactfully.

Intermittent, high and low, a quiet and gentle song "Begonia under the Moon" has become a resentful girl who destroys flowers. Not to mention using the skills of Qingping Song to relieve the mood and restore the blood and blood, it would be nice not to blew people out of tears.

"Brother, what's going on?" Song Qing wanted to hit a tree. Is this guy still the number one player in China?

"Have you been paddling for too long? Or is the advanced tasks stuck you with too much resentment? Or"

Shisui didn't hear Song Qing's complaints or questions. He was looking down at Nian Nian. Nian Nian leaned on his chin with one hand, raised his head slightly, curious and expectant, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly, and he didn't seem to notice how bad his performance was. Instead, he was a little envious and admired.

In a trance, the wasteland around me disappeared, and the noisy voices flew into the sunlight and fell on a boy's shoulder.

In the small but delicate garden, the boy clumsyly practiced blowing woos, and the size of goose eggs always slipped through his fingertips, bringing out a series of scattered woos.

He wanted to give up several times, but whenever he lowered his head and saw the ten-year-old girl who was slumped in a wheelchair and looked up at him with difficulty. Seeing the somewhat stiff and weird smile on her face because it had lasted for too long, and seeing the encouragement and expectation in her eyes, the boy would look away in a mess and devote himself to the instrument in his hand even harder.

At that time, my sister seemed to have struggled to speak, let alone control more muscle activities.

Gradually, he was blowing better and better, and his sister slowly could no longer see him and could no longer smile.

The last time he was blowing in front of her, she was lying on the hospital bed, the setting sun shone out from the window and filled her face, and it was very warm.

They all knew that her hearing was deteriorating rapidly, and every day when the sunset set, her world became quieter.

That day, when he finished playing the song, his sister spread her palms tremblingly, revealing the smiling face she drew a long time ago in her palm. Sweat beads covered her forehead. The detector just connected to her brain recognized two faint signals.

OK. Listen.

He never blew the jackpots again, but he made countless jackpots with his own hands, and they were all broken and buried in his sister's tomb.

Later, his sister's death was carved on a stone tablet and could not be changed. He was pulled into this game by three feet of water, followed the sect to guide people into the Yuhuang Academy's Music Art Sect, and picked up the jungle again by a devil.

It turns out that it is for today's meeting?

Or is it to let me send her away again?

The jade slid from the fingertips of his year, fell to the ground with a thud, buried by sparse weeds.

Three pairs of eyes looked at each other, and the two men and one woman present were embarrassed for a moment.

Dion quickly pulled the woman over her, put on her clothes and hid her behind him. He himself stretched his limbs casually, slowly sorting out the pieces of clothing and some traces.

Simere coughed lightly, looked away, and looked around.

There is no one in the world, the earth is the bed, and the sky is the quilt, so I am very interested.

But it is not good to be too empty, and the sound is worn far and clear.

Originally, he thought someone was in danger, but he was willing to fight and the other was willing to be beaten. Simire secretly despised his warmth.

After saying goodbye to Albert, Simere was a little relaxed, like taking a literary exam in school. After waiting anxiously, he finally confirmed the ease of his failure in the subject, a sense of guilt and relief at the same time.

Dion straightened out the wrinkles on his clothes and brought the new image of the acquaintance in front of him who was not very familiar to him.

He thought of the dark mages hidden in the dark alleys in the city of Usher, their dark and worn robes and their weird bone staff. The only difference was the peace and liveliness that appeared on the man in front of him.

The peacefulness of the dusk and the lively liveliness of the vicissitudes of the twilight are harmoniously integrated.

"You look a little different," Dion said lazily, as if they were reunited with many years.

"You look" Simire wanted to respond, but found that he was not familiar with the person, "I don't know if it's different."

"Of course the same, I will never change." Dion turned around, carefully helped the woman close the neckline, combed her fingertips through her long hair, and lowered her head and kissed her heart.

"Let's go, let's change somewhere." Dion put his left hand under her shoulder blade, raised her leg with his right hand, picked up the woman horizontally and was about to leave.

"Aren't you worried that I will make trouble for your friends?" Simire was speechless. Was this person too anxious?

"It's easy." Dion didn't look back. He believed that this person wouldn't have been jumping for a few days, and in the days when he could still jump, he would be dealt with every year.

Although they act more by the rules every year, there are still a few other people here, and they must be filled with endless fantasy ideas.

"Good luck." Dion sent a blessing at the end and left Simire's vision without looking back.

Simere shrugged and turned to search for the caravan.

Since he met this person, he must be not far from the caravan.

The plot of the Demon race has not been triggered for too long, and the scope of influence has not expanded yet. The mind of the year-old president is relatively mature - after all, he is a person who can break free from the hypnosis control of the Nine-Colored Deer with his own willpower - I think he will soon discover the weakness of the Demon race.

The only thing that is difficult is to complete the advanced task of Leyi as soon as possible.

Simire was also a little surprised that such a person would be stumped by a simple advancement task for so long.

Letting a music include four emotions: joy, anger, sorrow and calm is just to mobilize the corresponding emotions in memory. There is no need to care about the truth and falsehood and order, just write a reasonable and reasonable story for yourself.

For some people with stable minds, the most difficult emotion to experience is probably anger.

But it doesn't matter, the end of fear is anger, which smart people will always understand.

Song Qing picked up the jade sir on the ground, pulled up Nian's arm roughly, and took her out of Shinsui's sight.

She didn't struggle every year, and she could see that the condition was abnormal, and she seemed to be trapped in some kind of memory and couldn't extricate herself.

"It's my brother, he"

"It's very wrong." Song Qing pulled back Niannian's shoulders and dragged her away from the area covered by the yew tree with big strides.

"What the hell is wrong with him?"

Song Qing looked back at her, her eyes as sharp as ice.

"It's because of me." Niannian replied unawarely.

"Maybe." Song Qing refused to comment and pushed her into the layers of iron armor of the Qilin Army.

"I'll go back and take a look. Don't show up next to him for the time being." Song Qing turned around and wanted to walk. After two steps, he returned to Niannian and snapped his fingers in her ear.

He looked at him every year and didn't dare to speak.

Song Qing smiled bitterly.

"In some very early movies, bad guys can hypnotize and control good people with just a snap of their fingers, and go deep into their subconscious and rewrite their thinking."

Every year, I scratched my head. Is this person planning to hypnotize himself just now?

"In fact, it's not that easy. It's impossible for people to have such a convenient switch in their hearts, which can make people open and close at will with a snap." Song Qing didn't seem to be saying to Niannian.

I touched my chest every year, and what flowed through my beating heart seemed to be just some data, right?

"At that time, I skipped the first question because I could never judge the answer to this question." Song Qing noticed Nian Nian's actions and smiled.

I don't understand every year.

"Anyway, there must be some kind of connection between the two of you."

Song Qing stared at him for a moment and turned around and left.

The whispers of the wind in the wasteland, it seems that someone is saying it
Chapter completed!