Of Mountains and Rivers

Chu Huan may have fallen out of his psychological shadow. The moment he fell off the horse, his mind, which was wandering between coma and soberness, became sober for a moment under the powerful stress response.

Taking advantage of this moment, Chu Huan recalled with fear: "Did I dance again?"

Then he remembered that it wasn't, and he breathed a sigh of relief, and fell with a clear conscience.

Although Chu Huan was paralyzed on the left side of his body, he still fine-tuned his posture as much as possible to prevent an unseemly death such as breaking his neck when he landed.

But he soon realized that he was worrying too much, because Nanshan didn't let him land, and took him into his arms.

Nanshan's palms are warm and stable, which can give people a strong sense of security, but this sense of security has not comforted Chu Huan's mood at this moment. So unheroic.

The stigma of being stabbed by a tree branch hasn't been washed away yet!

Several clansmen surrounded him with a "hula" and Xiaofang's expression was extremely serious. Chu Huan didn't know what kind of bear he was in front of him. Anyway, judging from Xiaofang's expression, he felt as if he was about to go west. The elder brother stretched out a hand tremblingly, trying to probe Chu Huan's breath.

Chu Huan raised his right arm with difficulty, put it on his wrist softly and shook it: "There is still energy."

The people of the tribe exploded, and Chu Huan heard them discussing in a low voice.

"How can he still move?"

"But didn't the patriarch say that he didn't accept the 'ritual'?"

"Ankaraiye, what's going on?"

Nan Shan couldn't bear it anymore, and said in a low voice, "Shut up, what are you arguing about?"

The clansmen fell silent immediately.

Nanshan tore open Chu Huan's bloody wound, and Chu Huan cut the wound so badly that the original shape could hardly be seen.

Nan Shan frowned, immediately took his arm and licked the wound.

Chu Huan was startled, and his rationality told him that Nanshan had absolutely no distracting thoughts in doing so, but his rationality was like a flat boat, and was quickly submerged in the ocean of irrationality. "He he he he he licked, licked me!"

This kind of perverted daydream quickly made Chu Huan feel a little dirty—unfortunately, he is such a gentleman who thinks he is a villain.

As if to avoid suspicion, Chu Huan moved subconsciously, struggling to pull his arm out with half of his uncoordinated body.

Nanshan clasped his hand firmly. Chu Huan, who was numb, couldn't feel how much strength he used, but he saw the veins on the back of his hand stretched and rolled.

Nanshan's face was rarely so ugly, he almost glared at Chu Huan angrily, and said coldly: "What are you doing, do you want to die?"

The little bald-headed father held his son in one hand and leaned over worriedly: "What's the injury? How's it going?"

"Wind injury." Nanshan said, untied a small bottle from his waist, and handed it to Chu Huan's mouth: "Open your mouth."

Chu Huan was almost choked. He thought it was some herbal medicine, but the liquid in his mouth was warm, fishy, ​​and had a special smell of rust—it was clearly a mouthful of blood!

I don't know what blood it is.

"Swallow it down." Nanshan pinched his chin, and the strength in his hand was not polite at all, almost forcefully pouring that mouthful of blood into Chu Huan's throat.

He suppressed anxiety in his unusual roughness, he was almost panicked when he poured blood, his beautiful eyes seemed to be on fire, and the long hair that fell out in a hurry covered Chu Huan.

Chu Huan was in a daze on the spot. For such a brief moment, he thought to himself: Let alone a mouthful of blood, even if Nanshan pinched his neck and poured him a mouthful of poison that seals his throat with blood, as long as the other party uses this wholehearted looking at him...

Then if Nanshan is willing to feed, he is willing to swallow.

Tsk, the famous name in this life...

The next moment, Nanshan put his arms around his shoulders with one hand, and tried to support his knees with the other.

Chu Huan understood the meaning of this movement, and immediately woke up from the trance of the love saint, he quickly stretched out his hand to support the ground, cleverly avoiding the point where Nanshan planned to hug him directly: "Hey...wait a minute Wait, what, what, I, I..."

Nanshan interrupted him: "Don't like it? Then I can carry you on my back."

Chu Huan resolutely rejected the proposal. While spurning his vanity, he staggered up with his last strength.

Sad about the beauty pass, he admits it anyway, but the subject has to be "hero" anyway, if it is replaced with "bear", is it still plausible?

Chu Huan, a hero, was top-heavy and crumbling. Xiaofang saw it, and immediately rushed over with sharp eyesight, intending to use it as a crutch for Chu Huan, but Nanshan, who was full of heart to serve the people, was nailed to the spot.

Silently, Nan Shan put Chu Huan's uninjured arm around his neck, then stretched out a hand, and put it behind Chu Huan, protecting him vaguely without touching him.

Chu Huan didn't say a word, even though the questions in his heart had already been asked by a blue cat naughty three thousand times.

But at this time, he was holding on to his chest, afraid that he would let it out with the opening of his mouth, so he had no choice but to suppress his doubts and walk away without distractions.

Soon, his left arm, which was numb to the point of no feeling, seemed to be unlocked, and the toxicity should be fading.

But this is not a good thing, the numbness receded a little bit, and the area around the wound felt like ten thousand ants piercing his heart. The pain and itching gradually spread from the wound to the whole body, everywhere, especially lingering between every joint of his body. One almost wants to roll.

Every time Chu Huan moved, his bones seemed to be nibbled on by countless bugs.

Purple-black blood began to flow out from his wound, but Chu Huan was unable to take care of it. The blood that flowed out soon stained his shirt sleeves, and trickled down his hands all the way.

His face became more and more ugly, and the cold sweat on his body was getting more and more, even the windbreaker jacket he was wearing was soaked.

It's just detoxification and healing. Chu Huan didn't expect such a big commotion, and the heroin withdrawal reaction may be nothing more than that.

Chu Huan's body remained rigid from inertia, and he didn't know it at first glance, and thought he was standing upright.

This situation was almost shocking in the eyes of other Liyi people.

Everyone present knows what the detoxification process is like. Some people have even experienced it personally. Even if they haven’t experienced it, they always have the opportunity to witness other people’s experience every year. The shadow in the heart of every Liyi tribe.

It is said that some people were so uncomfortable that they did not hesitate to hit their head against the wall. There was a person who was hit to death like this before.

Chu Huan had the illusion that he was almost dying, and he unconsciously reached out to grasp what he could touch—he just happened to grasp the bald patriarch's scepter.

The top of the scepter was still on fire, Nanshan was afraid of burning him, so he gently opened Chu Huan's fingers.

Chu Huan's knuckles are not protruding, and they are not the kind of hands that would jam the ring tightly. After being rubbed by the rough scepter, the ring on his hand suddenly fell off, and it fell to the ground just right. When we reached a stone, there was a "jingle".

Chu Huan's footsteps that made deep footprints suddenly stopped, and his pupils shrank suddenly: "Chu...Chu Aiguo."

His voice was hoarse and deep, the beginning and the end were almost in his throat, Nanshan couldn't hear clearly for a while: "What?"

Chu Huan: "Ring... Ring..."

Seeing the opportunity, the little poisonous snake swam over immediately, picked up the ring that fell on the ground, and flatteringly spat it out to Nanshan.

The platinum ring was warmed by human body temperature, as if it contained some kind of unspeakable cherishment.

Nanshan remembered that when he was chatting with Chu Huan, the other party half-jokingly mentioned the role of the ring, he paused, took the ring and handed it to Chu Huan.

Chu Huan immediately held it in the palm of his hand, as if what just dropped was not an inconspicuous plain ring, but his soul.

Seeing his subconscious reaction, Nanshan was stunned for a moment, then thought of something, and his expression suddenly darkened.

Seeing that his footsteps stopped, Xiaofang turned around in puzzlement: "Patriarch?"

Nanshan responded, and then he lowered his eyes, put the arm that had been vacantly behind Chu Huan on the ground, wrapped his arms around his back, and brought Chu Huan back to the clan with half support and half hug, and placed him in the at home.

I don't know if it is a human illusion, but the fog seems not so thick at this time.

Xiaofang took the big white horse away distressedly, and went to deal with its large and small wounds, but Nanshan sat down beside the bed. He looked at Chu Huan, who was still holding the ring tightly even though he was unconscious. Hand, suddenly covered his own hand, as if wanting to break the opponent's fingers.

However, this was just a fake move, and Nanshan did not put it into practice.

His shoulders suddenly collapsed, and he loosened the strength of his fingers. In the end, he just gently stuffed Chu Huan's hand into the quilt.

Then Nanshan stared at Chu Huan, and was in a daze for a long time.

When Chu Huan woke up again, it was already a day and a night later.