save the judge

Break him off, or make him an outlier.

The two options are placed in front of Jingujiquan, and the young man who has not recovered from a serious illness under the candlelight seems to be a sculpture.

In fact, if it is possible, it should be made by Higakiri to make this decision.

Jingujiquan caressed the cold scabbard absent-mindedly, and the clumsy lines on the scabbard touched his palm, making him feel a little numb and itchy.

What would Higakiri say if he was awake?

Jingujiquan narrowed his eyes.

The young man with light blond short hair is always used to sitting on the porch with a teacup and a few Ping An old knives of the same age, slowly killing the day.

He looks like he doesn't care about anything and doesn't care about anything. Even his brother's name can be forgotten without any care, and he has never seen him show any expression other than a smile. It seems that thousands of years have worn away the personality of this vibration knife. , buried all his emotions in an abyss that no one could see.

The somewhat vague memory suddenly became clear and sharp. He seemed to be involuntarily pulled into a snowstorm, surrounded by roaring and rolling ice. There was a thin layer of frost and snow on the eyelashes, and the amber pupils hidden under the eyelids contained a shimmer, and the arcs at the end of the eyes were slender and delicate, like a meticulous painting.

Then there was a kiss like melting snow, lightly touched on the lips, with a cool aroma like green pine and frost flowers.

kiss?

Jingujiquan was taken aback.

The sprouts that broke out from his memory brought things he was not familiar with and grew ostentatiously. It may be that the death this time was too tragic. He didn't remember any memories before he died. There was only a pair of smiling cat eyes in his mind. , Delicate eyebrows, sweet smile.

The hands surrounding his body were slender and strong, and... when he died, he didn't feel any fear at all.

It is human instinct to be afraid of death, so why was he not afraid at that moment, but rather at ease?

Jingujiquan's thoughts stopped here, subconsciously avoiding this question.

But if it was Higakiri who was facing death, he would have accepted the fact calmly.

The swords and swords of the Heian period all have a tolerant character endowed by the years, and they look easy to talk to, but everyone can feel the arrogance left in their bones from the old days.

Rather than making him an alien who survived by beheading his fallen companions, an existence that is at odds with other colleagues in Honmaru...

With Hidekiri's character, he should have generously asked him to be broken while still retaining his sanity.

... Jingujiquan can even imagine that Fu Sangshen is wearing the usual soft smile, the corners of his eyes and lips are full of insoluble sugar, and the light in his eyes is like solidified honey. With a light touch, sweet love will flow out, filling his cold and empty heart.

He would sit upright in front of him, with the jacket of the military uniform hanging loosely on his shoulders, and the silver braids on the military uniform, which were twisted with silk threads, reflected the sunlight as bright as cream, and then said in an understatement That sentence used exactly the same tone as "Let's go home".

The monk counted the string of prayer beads to the end, and saw that the person in front of him still remained silent, so he clasped his hands together and chanted a Buddhist mantra, and pressed his hand to the sword on the table: "Since you can't make a decision, then--"

"Is there really no other way?"

Jingujiquan uttered ravings like sleepwalking, only to realize that his questions were boring repetitions.

The monk in cassock looked at him with pity, and the reflection of the candle flame around his bare head was like a ridiculous trap, but Jingongjiquan was so dazed that he couldn't even laugh.

"You don't have to worry too much, it's just a very simple process."

The monk made a sound slowly, winding the long strings of beads in his hand around the body of the mustache knife, and the round and smooth wooden beads hit the metal scabbard, making a low clicking sound.

He will regain his sanity, but he can't accept your spiritual power... Get other spiritual powers of the Dark Fallen Fusangshen as the energy for survival...

I can no longer appear in public, and Honmaru has to hide when he has guests...

Chaotic and complicated thoughts swept across his brain like a wave, and finally settled on that gentle and delicate kiss.

The monk lowered his head and recited scriptures, holding down the sword on the table and the Buddhist beads wrapped around it with one hand, the light red shimmer lit up the Buddhist beads one by one, and the ordinary wooden head turned into a rounded one. The pearls bound the slender blade, and the overflowing gray-black mist shrank back into the scabbard like a natural enemy, and the faint spiritual power of a normal sword wrapped it. When it was about to be completed, one hand Suddenly it reached over, and quickly and firmly tore off the string of beads.

"Stop."

The voice of the drinker was neither high nor low but full of strength. Jingujiquan's hands were still shaking. He exhausted all his strength in pulling the beads. The strings on which the beads were strung had long been worn out and would break when he pulled them. When it opened, the wooden beads scattered all over the table with a clatter, and there was an almost noisy knocking sound of broken jade.

"...Please, stop."

Jingujiquan trembled involuntarily, and he didn't know why he was trembling. The strength he had gathered just now disappeared in an instant, and a kind of suffocating exhaustion of sea water rushing through his mouth and nose enveloped him.

Would Higakiri want to become that kind of monster in order to survive?

No, he won't.

Jingujiquan gave this answer in his heart without pausing.

The blond-haired Fu Sangshen didn't seem to care about anything, but he also valued the glory of the sword more than anything else.

He is proud of being Genji's treasure, but if he still has a little consciousness, he will not admit that dark fallen soul.

I should keep such honor and pride for him.

Jingujiquan bent down, slowly picked up a few Buddhist beads that had rolled to his legs, and put them on the table: "I'm sorry for destroying your Buddhist beads. If you don't mind, I hope I can make something for this." compensation."

The monk who was roughly interrupted halfway and broke the magic weapon looked at the mess, but he was not angry, his expression was calm and there was no disturbance at all: "Don't worry about these."

He turned to look at Jingujiquan with a very curious look: "Are you going to give up? Break it? Or exile?"

Jinguji Izumi picked up Mustache and laid it flat on his lap, blocking it with his wide sleeves: "I will not banish him where I can't see it, never."

The monk nodded, looking thoughtful, not knowing what he understood.

Jingujiquan stood up and nodded to him: "Thank you very much."

The monk sat there, and waited for Jingujiquan to open the door and walk out, then stretched out his fingers to pick up a Buddhist bead and looked at it for a while, then raised his sleeve and waved out the candle.

When Jingujiquan went out, the woman who led the way had disappeared. Yaken and Kisemaru stood by the door, one on the left and one on the right, holding a grass root pulled from the garden in the mouth of the short knife, and the thin green haired sword was full of He stared at the door in a daze with a worried face, and when he saw Jingujiquan coming out, his eyes lit up with a "chuckle".

"Patriarch? How is brother?"

Jingujiquan didn't know how long he had been in there, the stars and the moon had already hung in the sky, and the high and low cicadas lingered around, creating a summer night atmosphere.

He looked at the closed curtain door behind him, hugged Mustache in his arms, smiled at Kagemaru, and answered irrelevantly: "Don't worry, I won't break him."

The meaning of this answer is too rich, and Xiwan immediately sensed something bad, and took a deep breath: "They...they can't solve it?"

Jingongjiquan put one hand on Yaken's shoulder to find a fulcrum, shifted his center of gravity a little, stretched out his hand knowingly to support him, and the three of them walked along the dark corridor back and forth.

"Solution? I don't think that's a solution." Jingujiquan said, "Turning Higiri into a demon who devours his own kind, do you think he will be happy with his new life?"

Kagemaru's face turned pale for a moment.

He moved his lips, but did not answer the question in the end.

Jingujiquan pursed his lips, and the feeling of the thin snow once again occupied his mind: "But don't worry, Shizheng has already sent a task notice to Shiraishi, so I shouldn't notice this again so soon , I’ll try to contact Abe Seimei to see if he has a solution.”

Kagemaru followed him in a daze with his head down, and when the three of them returned to Honmaru, the sky reflected the sunset again, which made Jingujiquan, who jumped time and space frequently in a short period of time, have a strange sense of time disorder.

The dark fall of Fusangshen will pollute the normal Fusangshen's sanity and cause large-scale dark fall. In order to avoid this situation, Jingu Jiquan put mustache in his bedroom and opened the enchantment of the castle tower. The close servant strictly refused other Fu Sangshen to go upstairs.

This decision of his was immediately opposed by most of the Fusangshen, leaving the interrogator alone with a fallen Fusangshen? !

What kind of dark joke is this? !

The calm Taidaos persuaded him gently, while the lively short swords rolled directly onto his lap and performed fancy coquettish tricks. There were also Taidaos who were not relying on both ends beating the side drums, and the embarrassing situation. Didn't say anything, just stood silently in the distance.

The worry in their eyes was sincere, and Jingu Jiquan could only smile to express that he knew it, but he never mentioned the matter of moving out of the castle tower.

At night, it was the turn of the night watcher Kazumi Mori Kanesada to bear the ardent expectations of the entire Honmaru, sitting cross-legged at the door with wide eyes, staring straight at Jinguji Izumi in the bedding, and the person being watched counted sheep with their eyes closed After counting to five hundred and six, he finally broke down. He sat up and looked at Izumi Shou: "Aren't you going to sleep?"

The long-haired Da Dao kept a serious expression with his eyes wide open: "No, my task today is to protect you."

Jingongjiquan held his twitching temples, and said in a good voice: "I am safe, the barrier of the castle tower cannot be broken, and you are next door, so what is there to worry about?"

Izumi's gaze involuntarily drifted to the knife rest not far from Jinguji Izumi's bed.

Under the moonlight, the Taidao quietly seemed to have lost its soul, quietly placed on the knife holder.

Jingujiquan put down his hand and pulled the quilt up: "If it's Hikakiri, don't worry. The spiritual power in his body is not even enough to support his transformation, how could he do anything to me?"

It was the first time Izumishou heard about this, and there was a bit of hesitation on his face. Seeing that there was something going on, Jingujiquan immediately struck while the iron was hot: "And my spiritual power is not compatible with him now, he can't get enough to move around at all." What are you worried about? Go to sleep, you will be ugly when you wake up with dark circles tomorrow morning."

Da Dao, who claims to be strong and beautiful, was stunned: "Dark circles?"

Jingujiquan looked determined: "Yeah, even Fu Sangshen will have dark circles, I have seen Yaken with dark circles... Ah, if you have dark circles, you will definitely be nagged by Horikawa Nagging all day?"

Hequanshou frowned, thought for a while, and nodded reluctantly: "Okay, then I'm going to sleep... If there is anything, you must call me! No, just make a sound for me to hear." Can."

Jingu Jiquan almost swore to God, and finally sent the rapping knife out of his room.

The curtain door was closed, Jingongjiquan lay down, his eyes fell on the knife rest beside him, and was soon occupied by sleep.

Between half-dream and half-awake, the moonlight around me seemed to be blocked by someone, a faint fragrance drifted into the dream, the wind suddenly rushed into the tightly covered quilt, and the body was wrapped in a warm embrace, wanting to wake up The young man immediately fell into a deeper dream.

With his back to the moonlight, Fu Sangshen played with the slender human skeleton hand with one hand, slowly kneading the fingers one by one. His movements were very light, but subtly revealing a kind of lust, the long silver hair Her hair covered the bed like frost and snow, and there was a deep, dark red light beating in her amber eyes.

"Why don't you break me?" He lowered his head, and gently put his lips on the ring finger, like whispering intimately with his lover, "Why don't you exile me?"

A soft kiss landed on the tip of another finger.

"Why don't you make me a ghost?"

The scarlet tongue sticks out, licking the pale and delicate human skin.

"Why do you say the word forever?"

Those dark red eyes narrowed, and he giggled.

Ah, I see, you want to save me?

Anqiu Fusangshen hugged the body in his arms tightly, the smile on his face widened, as if he got some interesting toy.

You want to save me, you want to be my anchor and rope, you want to pull my soul here... Now that you have such an idea, don't abandon me, Patriarch.

Don't lie to me, don't give up on me, don't leave me behind.

Mustache's thumb was pressed on the light-colored lips of the human being, and his scarlet eyes were shining brightly. Even if he was a ghost or a monster, he had to stay by his side all the time.