Birdseye

The dream stopped here.

Although he knew that his Highness would wake up eventually, he couldn't help but panic because of what he saw in his dream.

It was not until a long time later that his breathing gradually calmed down. Xingru slowly opened his eyes, and a curtain of light yellow curtains greeted him.

The tent in front of him looked familiar, but he had just woken up from a dream, his mind was still a little confused, and he really couldn't imagine that he had seen it there before.

He moved his gaze up and found that there was a picture hanging on the top of the tent. The picture was a little fat bird, which was his appearance when he was a child. He wanted to raise his hand to touch it. Looking up at it like this, he smiled for a while.

He seemed to know where it was.

The slightly sweet fragrance of Duyi's fragrance slowly diffused in Wangyou Palace. He turned his head to look, and saw that God, wearing a black robe, was sitting quietly in front of the long desk, on which was a game of chess. The green peacock on the mica screen has changed its posture today, and its tail feathers are more gorgeous.

When Feng Yuan heard the movement on the bed, he didn't turn his head, but asked Xingru: "How can the dream barrier of the mist of the phantom sea on your body be so powerful?"

That night, he carried the little monster all the way back to Wangyou Palace. He thought he should wake up the next day, but he fell into a coma until the evening of the second day. He reached out to wake him up, but he couldn't touch it When I touched him, I watched his seven orifices start to bleed, but in a blink of an eye, the bright red blood soaked the bedding on the bed.

Feng Yuan's hand froze in mid-air, and then he found that his fingertips were trembling.

This is really ridiculous, Fengyuan Shangshen, who was once the co-lord of heaven and earth, will tremble because of a little monster bleeding too much one day, if this matter is spread, it will make Mengshu and the others laugh It's been a year and a half.

A shallow sigh resounded round and round in Wangyou Palace, he bent down, and put his finger on Xingru's brow.

Although Xi Gu also has a dream barrier, but every time it happens, he just wails a few times in his dream, which has no effect on his soul, and is not as serious as the little monster in front of him, and the little monster's The soul is also damaged.

Feng Yuan thought a little angrily, how could he make himself like this.

He no longer has any other dream awakening fruits in his hands, so he can only stabilize his spirit a little bit.

He stayed by the bed last night without closing his eyes, and occasionally raised his hand to wipe a little blood at the end of his eyes, Feng Yuan vaguely felt that this scene seemed familiar, but he didn't remember when he had such a compassionate heart.

Xingru glanced at him, sat up from the bed, and said slowly: "Probably because he committed too many crimes back then."

"Huh?" Feng Yuan dropped the chess piece in his hand and said casually, "Let's listen."

Outside the window, Du Heng grass is growing very well, a few shadows are slanting on the screen window, the pearl hangs high, and there is a row of tassels under the light yellow curtain, Xingru looks up at the little fat bird on the curtain above his head, time is on him In his eyes, he went back to a hundred years ago.

It was the sixth year of Jiaping, the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month.

A heavy snowfall lasted for three days and three nights, the sky and the earth were vast, and the surface of the mirror lake was frozen for thousands of miles.

At the beginning of the snowstorm, he was sitting on the upper deer hill, with a few Chongming birds flying above his head. He thought that today was His Highness's birthday, and he had stayed in the Jialan Tower for 76 years.

It's time for him to take him back.

The rootless fire rose continuously from under his feet, crossed the vast snowfield, and reached under the Jialan Pagoda. The restrictions left by the monk Kuji in the past have now become a few illusory lights and shadows, which can no longer stop him.

They wouldn't let him see him, so he tried his best to break in.

Regardless of whether he is alive or dead, he will always bring his Highness home.

Xingru stood quietly in the midst of the raging fire, the north wind whistling in his ears, blowing his snow-white robes and making noise, so the flames took advantage of the wind, rising higher and higher, the blazing flames were like rolling red tsunami, a wave A wave was lifted, and the billowing smoke brought countless gray butterflies on the ground, and those butterflies rose by the wind and flew all the way to the nine heavens.

Finally, he came under the Garan Pagoda. The fire surrounded the pagoda that had stood for more than 300 years. A certain smell of decay.

He stood on the spot, looking up at the sharp black tower corners in the sky. Today he wore nice clothes and combed his hair neatly, just waiting for his highness to appear in front of him again.

But his highness never showed up.

After a long time, the ragged monk with a scarlet head came out of the tower slowly, with a compassionate and cold expression, and he told him that the man was long gone.

In the 16th year of Ximing, the third day of March.

He remembered clearly that the weather was excellent that day, but there was a sudden downpour of rain at night.

It turned out that at that time, he was no longer there.

He was stunned for a long while, then looked back, the road he came from was rough and gray, and there was only a piece of scorched earth left.

He suddenly understood that even if he burned all the gods and Buddhas for these 33 days, he would never be found.

In an instant, the fire whipped up the wind and snow all over the ground, and spread violently in all directions, stirring up dust all over the ground. The flames under the tower jumped several feet high, and the flames pierced into the tower like crazy, sweeping and devouring his body. All traces of His Highness's past existence.

The snowy field is covered by this rootless fire. The snow melts into a meandering stream, shining in the sun, and then flows into the Mirror Lake. The ice surface cracks and the water vapor evaporates. , some time passed, the white mist cleared, and the water in the lake had dried up.

It seemed that hot magma was flooding past, scorching the land into a dazzling red. The main beam in the tower fell from the high mid-air because it couldn't bear the fire, and exploded the starlight all over the place.

Not long after, the Jialan Tower in front of him collapsed.

Xingru was sitting on top of the ruins, looking at the distant sky, and in a blink of an eye, his highness was slowly walking towards him, but in the blink of an eye, he disappeared.

After an unknown amount of time, a cold voice from beyond the sky rang in his ears: "You should be punished into the sea of ​​ruthlessness and sentenced to a hundred years of punishment."

He raised his head, and the cool rain fell on his face, like a thin blade, piercing his flesh and piercing into his bones. This was a death sentence, and he deserved it.

He didn't feel much pain, even life and death were not much different to him.

He fell to the ground, with blood continuously overflowing from his seven orifices, dyeing the snow-white robe incomparably gorgeous, like cold plums blooming in the snow, with a biting fragrance.

But who can see it?The young man in his dream will never appear again.

In this life, it will never appear again.

Perhaps it was because he committed too many crimes, and his catastrophe also came on this day. He thought that he should be blown away by these catastrophe thunders, but the strange thing was that these catastrophe thunders scattered into clouds before his eyes.

After a long, long time, a fine rain fell and fell on this mess.

The river of time seems to be flowing backwards at this moment. The scorched land peeled off the cracked mud on the surface inch by inch, and the bricks and tiles in the ashes shook, restored to order, and neatly arranged, so the Jialan Tower fell and rose again, Mirror Lake The water dries up and regenerates, and everything around it recovers, and the vegetation is luxuriant. Because it is the middle of winter, it withers and withers quickly.

Only in the coming year, the hibiscus tree next to Jinghu Lake will be a few feet taller. After the spring breeze passes, two or three small white flowers will bloom, like snow, still the same as before.

……

This is the dream barrier of his Illusory Sea Fog.

This is the dream barrier of the mist of the imaginary sea that has tortured him for a hundred years.

There is no need to elaborate on this matter and the God in front of him, Xingru only mentioned the whole story, and he hastily skipped all kinds of reasons.

Feng Yuan supported his chest with one hand, and threw the chess piece in his hand into the chess basket beside him. After a long time, he muttered: "I have a vague impression of this matter."

That was indeed a hundred years ago. I remember that day, when he was flipping through a book in the Changqiu Palace, he suddenly heard a cry from the world, and half a cup of tea in his hand spilled out.

Soon after, a fairy came in and reported that there was a little demon in the world who set fire to Shangluqiu for more than [-] miles, causing the Jialan Pagoda to fall and the mirror lake to dry up.

At that time, he put down his teacup, turned over a page of the book in his hand, and said lightly: "Let's deal with it according to the law of heaven."

There are not many living beings on the Upper Deer Hill, but the prohibition under the Jialan Pagoda was transformed by Master Kuji after his incarnation to stop demons, which has a lot of merit.

According to the laws of heaven, he should be punished into the Heartless Sea and sentenced to a hundred years of punishment.

Feng Yuan took another piece from the chess basket, held it between his fingers, thoughtfully said: "This punishment should be imposed by me."

After saying this, he suddenly felt a little regretful.

It is not known whether he regretted what he said, or whether he regretted the punishment a hundred years ago.

Xingru didn't expect him to say such a sentence suddenly.

He seemed to be in a daze, staring blankly at Feng Yuan in front of him. After a long while, he suddenly laughed. Many times when he was trapped in a dream, he always felt that in the most painful moment of his life. In a dream, he was about to see His Highness, maybe if he persisted, he would be able to see him.

In the dream, after the rain, the sky was clear for thousands of miles. He lay on his back on the upper deer hill, staring blankly at the blue sky above his head. There was blood in his eyes, which flowed down together with tears.

And after a hundred years, his highness forgot about him, and told him that he was the one who sentenced him to the hundred years of torture in the heartless sea.

It turned out that this was how I wanted to see him.

Hearing the laughter, Feng Yuan was quite uncomfortable, he was not quite sure what kind of punishment he had given this little monster back then, but he burned the Shangluqiu three hundred miles away for fun, breaking the restriction of the Jialan Tower, It was a bit of a mess.

He dropped the chess piece in his hand, as if he had asked thousands of times before, his face was slightly gloomy, and he asked Xingru naturally: "Do you know that you are wrong?"

After not seeing Xingru's voice for a long time, Feng Yuan turned his head to look at him strangely, only to see the little monster sitting on the bed not far away had burst into tears at some point.

The next moment, he lowered his head and started laughing. This laughter echoed in Wangyou Palace, and it didn't stop for a long time.

Feng Yuan frowned, not understanding what stimulated the little monster.

"I know I'm wrong, of course I know I'm wrong," Xingru put away the ugly smile on his face, he looked up at Feng Yuan, his voice was calm, neither sad nor happy, and said slowly, "If you still don't know your mistake, I will It's when you fall into Jiuyou."

Feng Yuan froze in place for an instant, as if a torrential rain poured down from the top of his head, he seemed to see something in the thunder and sparks.

I only wish my star is like,

Healthy every year, always showing joy.

The howling under the Garan Pagoda a hundred years ago suddenly sounded in his ears. The voice was like a ghost curse, cursing him that he would have no peace for tens of thousands of years until he became immortal and annihilated.