Merry little roll

The vastness of the universe is all white, and the mountains and rivers are covered with ice.

Shao Xiao raised his head, and the snowflakes falling slowly fell on his body, and then instantly melted on the black clothes, turning into a thin layer of ice.The bottom of the feet is a layer of ice that is far from visible.

As if, this world is originally wrapped in silver, icy and snowy.

It is like the snow rolling in the air, floating in the world for thousands or thousands of years, and it has been scattered in the mighty space without stopping.

Where there is a master, there will be snow, and there will be shakuhachi.

The thin layer of ice billowed with mist, and the young man in Xuanyi ran with his sword in his hands, with the vastness behind him.

It is picturesque and poetic, long and boundless.

"Master!"

Shao Xiao pulled out his sword in the wind, his blood was boiling hot, his chest was filled with boundless air.

"Master!"

He stood up, the snow flakes and ice slags were particularly conspicuous on his pure black clothes, falling on the corners of his eyes, black silk and black eyes.

And so on and on.

The snow fell harder, Shao Xiao hurriedly turned around, and the master came.

Master, Master.

A touch of pure white vigor comes into view, naturally carrying the wind, snow, and the frozen universe.

Sword eyebrows carry ice, red lips are ruthless, every inch outlines the vastness and ice of the world, everything is frozen in the color of the eyes, and the white hair falls to the ground.

A hundred years later, Pingsheng's seal on the world was gradually released, and his stature gradually returned to its original appearance.

I love to be carefree in my life, and it is rare to be rude in a long life.

There is no jade ornament around his waist, but a shakuhachi with icy bones is hanging.

Seeing it in his eyes, the young man felt that the master did not look like a demon, but rather like a god he had sketched in his heart for a long time.

Everything fades, everything disappears.

The wind blew up the hem of the young man's black robe, his eyes were firm and dark, but he was tightly holding the sword in his hand.

Although the road is long, he will one day be able to walk side by side with his master.

"Today I will teach you swordsmanship." Although the voice was low, it was no longer so cold and cold. "Take the sword."

"Yes."

Shao Xiao pulled out the mysterious sword from behind, and drew a sharp arc in the air. The next moment, his eyes were covered with snow and fog.

"Use this sword."

Shao Xiao struggled to open his eyes in the snow fog, and took the wooden sword from Ping Sheng's hand.

The snow on the branches fell down and "brushed" to pieces on the ground.

He said he wanted to practice swords, but Ping Sheng didn't have a sword in his hand, so he pulled out the shakuhachi from his waist.

He brought the shakuhachi to his lips.

One point is sad, two points are heartless, three points are mournful, four points are cold, and five points are heroic.

The silk is broken and the music is steep.

There was a crackling sound on the snow, the snow all over the sky suddenly became heavy, and the ice whirled in the air. Shao Xiao couldn't open his eyes in the wind and snow, and supported his crumbling body with the black sword.

The turbulent snow mist flew up from the ground, surrounding Shao Xiao in the center, and the black robe was cut into cracks.

The pain is not severe, but the countless frozen wounds make people tremble like a blunt instrument sticking to the skin.

Countless human faces protruded indistinctly from the snow fog. Although there were no facial features on the faces, the young man felt that he was being stared at by pairs of empty eyes.

shudder.

Gradually, these snow faces have their own torsos.

East, west, north, south, up, down, left, and right, there is dizzying whiteness everywhere, Shao Xiao resisted the feeling of nausea and forced himself to concentrate fully.

The 'snow trunks' are in various poses, either looking up or looking down, or lifting their feet or hugging their waists.

In his hand, there is a sword made of ice and snow.

Shao Xiao calmed down, sweat dripped from his sore eyes, and blocked every tricky ice edge with his wooden sword.

The snow and mist dispersed, and the 'snow trunks' danced faster and faster.

Shao Xiao's throat was sweet, and the smell of blood was already lingering, and his black robe was unfurled.

The sound of the shakuhachi in mid-air turned nine times a hundred times, still piercing the air with sorrowful coolness.

The scorching light and heat came out from the boy's eyes, only the sword technique of 'Snow Torso' was in his eyes, he had already forgotten time, black and white, sun and moon.

Only the sword intent remains.

Those illiterate words, incomprehensible sophistication of the world, those boring misunderstandings and muddy memories that cannot be touched are all left behind.

After an unknown amount of time, the shakuhachi stopped.

The snow waves are finally flat.

Between heaven and earth, the ice and snow gradually melted.

Falcons crow.

Those who cultivate the Tao cultivate their minds, and those who cultivate their minds cannot be confined to themselves.

The young man's black robe was already ragged into strips, he was sweating profusely, panting for hot air from his mouth, he leaned on the wooden sword and slowly sat down on the snow.

Ping Sheng sat on the blue stone platform, the shakuhachi in his hand was tucked into his waist.

The snow hanging on the shoulders, the crushed snow between the brows, and the snowdrops protruding from the corners of the eyes all blended with the young man softly and gracefully.

Lazy and flamboyant.

In a daze, the young man seemed to still be the one who counted teals on the bank of the river.

Rustling, quietly, the unknown warmth in the snow is swaying.

With sterling silver hair hanging down, Ping Sheng was leaning against the tree, and those ice blue eyes were staring deeply at the black boy.

Therefore, after Shao Xiao slowly opened his eyes, he fell into the ice blue.

It is the loneliness that has been silent for thousands of years.

"Master!"

The snow trembled slightly.

"Xiaoyao, a hundred years have passed, have you ever thought about it now, what is Xiaoyao?"

Silver threads fluttered.

The vermilion lips parted slightly, and the ice blue wrapped around the pure black without moving a bit.

"Xiaoyao is—" Shao Xiao raised the Xuanjian above his head, the sunlight from the melting snow and the snow from the sun's sign fell from around the sword, covering the back of Shao Xiao's hand with a light layer of broken white.

Indeed, for humans, immortals, demons, demons, and Buddhas, they all have their own ways of escape.

Maybe it's a bitter lamp on the green case.

Maybe it's because there is wine in the wine pool and the meat forest is drunk today.

Perhaps it is the joy of the snow that heralds a good year.

Perhaps it is the new life of a flower and a leaf.

Shao Xiao chose the word Xiaoyao for himself, because he regarded it as the way he had cultivated all his life.

There was a brief icy cold sensation on the head, it turned out that Master had hit Shao Xiao on the head with a shakuhachi.

"Don't think too much about it."

Ping Sheng turned out the Shakuhachi and sent it to his lips.

The bone-piercing Shakuhachi flashed a dark red light for an instant, but quickly returned to normal, and the sound of silk and bamboo was surprisingly no longer sad.

It turns out that Shakuhachi can also blow out such a smooth and winding feeling.

There was even a hint of celebration secretly.

It's like the wind.

This wind passes through the canyon, through the scattered grassland of cattle and sheep, through the wrinkled and rippled lake, and through the world full of flowers.

This wind is like a flower blooming on the tip of a branch, bringing the meager but continuous vitality and hope to the ice field.

It seems that you can forget the high and low, let go of praise and criticism, and abandon etiquette and human feelings.

'What is Happy'

The young man felt that something new was taking root and sprouting in his body, and even grew into a towering tree in an instant.

But extremely familiar.

The flock of birds came, the dead tree in his heart was in spring, and the branches in early spring bloomed with life. Shao Xiao closed his eyes and used all his mind to feel such a wonder.

Trembling like melting snow inside.

Gradually, he realized.

No matter what Xiaoyao is, he needs to become stronger and stronger.

Strong enough to protect this life (sheng) carefree.

The author has something to say:

One month to go (hands out...) until winter break (shout out....)

The little dog creeps forward.....