My past life was a fan of all men

After Sun Ran locked the post and sent the private message, he got off the bed, stood up straight, and subconsciously looked at Mo Lang's sleeping face from the side.

Half of the military training has passed, Mo Lang's originally handsome and handsome face is now a little darker, but he is still extremely handsome. He squinted his eyes, the outline of his eyes is long and deep, and the long and slightly curly eyelashes are slightly raised on the eyelids From the beginning, the bridge of his nose is very high and straight, and his thin cherry red lips look like he wants to take a bite, like a juicy peach that is as tender as rice.

The breeze blows from the distant hills, passing by the crystal carp and the wind chime, making a clear and hearty tone, slipping around the window and slipping into the dormitory, blowing the slanted bangs of Mo Lang, who is naturally slightly hooked at the corners of his sleepy mouth. Ruochu Bailian, slightly curled up body made Sun Ran want to hug and protect him very much.

Sun Ran curled his lips into a smile like a spring breeze, casually picked up the multicolored clothes that had fallen on the bedside table, turned around and stretched his right hand on them, and walked slowly to the balcony to brush his teeth and wash his hands.

"Dangling...Dangling..." resounded throughout the dormitory.

Murong Zhenghua lifted his body slightly on the bed, glanced sideways at Sun Ran standing outside the balcony through the corner of his eyes, then retracted his eyes, yawned tiredly, arranged and folded his quilt, and got up coming.

Mo Lang, who was usually the first to wake up last night, was only a little earlier than the fat Zheng Dan dared to wake up last night. He habitually picked up his phone and glanced at it, and found a private message popping up on the forum, thinking it was a routine The news, casually poked open to read.Immediately, Mo Tan's eyes widened, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and his eyes were bent with a smile.

His first millet split appeared!

"Big Daddy, I am your loyal Mifensi, I support you! I really like you! I love you from the scorching sun."

It took him a long time to see his self-confidence blooming, before he came back to his senses, and immediately stretched out his slender fingers with well-articulated joints, and poked the pinyin letters one by one on the phone screen with his fingertips.

"Hmm... I'm so happy too. [Smile]" I poked the green send button with my hand and sent it.

Mo Lang's heart felt like a spring breeze blowing overnight, Wanlibai was completely melted by snowflakes, white mist lingered in front of his eyes, in the dense breath of spring, weeds that had been burned for thousands of miles sprouted buds, and buds of thousand-year-old trees bloomed. Put the flower buds.

But he is still calm and composed on the surface. The first Mifensi made him ecstatic. The first Mifensi let him know that it was not that he didn't care. Previously, a group of netizens on the forum slandered him because he wanted to be famous and pretended to be "the world". The first national teacher", countless abuse and ridicule, he thought that on the forum, others would gallop over on thousands of grass and mud horses to trample and insult you just to watch a good show.

Until this moment, he received the support from the first little angel, and his eyes filled with tears. This is far more touching than someone who always stays by your side and says "I like you" to you tirelessly. Mo Lang is more moved.

Perhaps meeting by chance is better than being inseparable.

In her previous life, she was a sugar buyer at the "Liangcheng" market. A young man about his age blurted out the first time they met, saying that he wanted to marry him as his tenth male favourite.

Everything after that was just repeating his exaggeration and affection.

What is exaggerated is love at first sight, what is affectionate is love that develops over time, and what is grinding is that people are ruthless in fleeting years.

I have forgotten how many times he said in his own ears that he would marry himself as his wife, ten times?a hundred times?Or a thousand times?It should not be [-] times, after all, the number of encounters is not so frequent.

That young man in brocade clothes, with a face like a white orchid and good looks, his name is Sima Ruyue, um, it’s been a thousand years, and some of the details of getting along with him have become chaotic, and some of them are floating in the tide of time and space and then turned into one. The blisters shattered into mist in the sunlight and disappeared without a trace.

But there are still some sporadic fragments left in my mind, lingering and lingering, but they gradually become clear in my mind and can be played back one by one.

On a snowy afternoon, the streets and alleys are covered with snow-white patches. In winter, the golden scales of sunlight fall on the backs of the roof beams, which are very bright and dazzling from a distance.

A big red official sedan chair is very conspicuous when it is carried on the white street. The two servants carrying the sedan chair are very difficult to carry the sedan chair under the heavy snow. Their bony bodies seem to be blown away by a gust of wind. As if falling down, the setting sun in the afternoon was gentle, and rows of footprints were left on the blood-stained street.

There was a lot of noise on the street, and people from the teahouses in the hotel came out one after another and lined up in front of a house with an open door on the street. It seemed that there were wealthy people distributing charcoal fire or rice grains. This winter was earlier than in previous years. , and it will take a long time. Some small peasant families who barely survive on the grain left over from the next year may not be able to survive this severe winter.

In Liangcheng, the north wind is blowing, and the wind and snow are flying all over the sky. You can see yellow, skinny, skinny men, women and children in ragged clothes with several holes in them, holding hands tremblingly. Begging on the side of the street with a broken bowl with half of his mouth cracked.

Mo Lang was dressed in Taoist robes and looked like a little Taoist priest. He walked slowly to a snow-covered alley at the corner of the street.

The ground on both sides of the cold alley is full of beggars, big and small, who raised their heads when they heard the footsteps, and saw a little Taoist priest in their eyes, flying sand After smashing his eyeballs, the moths flew towards the candle flame and turned into ashes, there was no hope in their eyes.

Mo Lang, who was 16 years old at the time, was dressed in Taoist robes, his cheeks were fair and blush like a red lotus blooming gracefully in a small pond, under his sculpted eyebrows and starry eyes, he had a tall and straight nose, and with every gesture, he looked like a woman who had not been weathered. A handsome boy.

"Woooo~~" There were a few choked and sobbing voices not far away.

Hearing the sound, Mo Lang came over, and saw a baby who was still in swaddling clothes, whose body was frozen by the cold of the twelfth lunar month. The palm-sized face was blue-purple, with no blood at all, and the air was like a gossamer. About to wean off.

"Please, save my newborn child, I beg you." A young woman with a sallow complexion and a muddy face knelt down on the snow, her front lying on the snow and using all her strength to crawl towards Mo Lang's feet Moving forward, a hand was stretched out in the endless darkness and tightly grasped the corner of Mo Langdao's robe. At that moment, she seemed to see Guanyin Bodhisattva descending to earth, and tears filled her eyes.

Her voice was extremely weak, and she couldn't hear clearly when she said something, but the last sentence was very clear: "Save my child, it has not had milk for three days, and it is suffering from typhoid fever..."

After the woman finished her last sentence, her frail body finally fell down. Her chin fell on the bluestone slab in the alley where the blood was broken, and a few small red flowers bloomed on the bluestone slab covered with a white quilt. Mei, she closed her eyes, the last bit of strength in her body was exhausted.

Mo Lang squatted down hastily, stretched out his slender white right hand and rested on the pulse of the young woman's right hand, the pulse was frivolous and weak, like the dawn wind blowing through a clear lake, without causing any ripples.

He raised his right hand to pinch the woman's eyelids and lifted them up. The woman's pupils dilated and convulsed, and her whole body twitched like a drowning person twitching her feet. As she was dying, she seemed to see the early rising sun again.

"After the cold winter, it will be warm spring." The corner of the woman's mouth twitched.This sentence inspired countless emaciated and critically ill villagers to survive the long and endless nights.

But some people still died in the mass graves in the barren mountains...

Mo Lang took a small blue-and-white porcelain jade bottle containing the elixir from the bamboo basket on his back, poured out a elixir the size of a sugar pill, squeezed the woman's mouth open with his hand, and stuffed it in.

He took the little boy wrapped in a light blue swaddle over to have a look. The little boy was fine, but he hadn't eaten for many days, his body was weak, and he was caught in the cold by the wind and snow. Mo Lang stretched out Putting the warm palm on the little boy's forehead, and meditating on the Taoism, a light green stream of light gushed out from the dantian, which was transmitted to the little boy's body through Mo Lang's slender fingers.

The little guy shivered, blinked his watery and round eyes, a few pure and natural smiles of white hibiscus flowers floated on his immature face, and after a while he pouted and laughed.

Mo Lang used his magic power to get rid of the wind-cold miscellaneous diseases for the little boy, took out a small piece of scallion pancake from his backpack, broke it into small pieces, and rubbed it on the little boy's face with his fingertips. On his lips, slowly, his complexion also improved a little.

The woman who fell asleep woke up, her weather-stained eyes filled with tears, she knelt upright and kowtowed vigorously on the bluestone covered with snow, "Grandpa! Thank you!"

Mo Lang Qingfeng smiled awe-inspiringly, shook his head and said: "Girl, you don't need to say thanks, what Xiaodao can do, the girl is serious."

The beggars on the side all cast the clear and meaningful eyes of the savior Nanwu Guanyin Bodhisattva at Mo Lang, and they knelt down on the ground and begged Mo Lang to save themselves.

"Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, please save my mother, she is dying."

"Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, I beg you to save my wife. The doctors said she couldn't survive this cold winter. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have married her, and let her suffer with me..."

"Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, I beg you to save us. We are all hungry and cold. We have left our homes and come here. We have no relatives, no reason, and no one to turn to. Please save our entire village!" Choking, voice out of tune, tears welling up.

The beggars in this alley came from the same small village. This year's snowstorm was very fast and fierce. Many crops had been frozen to death. They rushed to "Liangcheng" along the way, and some of the thinner ones were on the road. He died in the wilderness forest. After death, he couldn't even use a broken straw mat to wrap his body.

Mo Lang immediately set up a stall in the depths of the alley, and hung a white canvas. Wherever the ink went on it, he swiped it, and boldly swayed the four characters "Hanging Pot to Help the World".

"Folks, don't worry. You line up and come one by one. I'll see a doctor for you."

"Seeing a doctor?" An old man stooped and took a small step forward, coughed twice and then said: "How can we beggars have money for medicine, let alone medicine, even for the doctor. There is no diagnosis and treatment fees, we have empty pockets and are penniless!"

The old man's hands and feet were trembling, his eyes were choking, his eyes were burning, and his face was full of tears.

Mo Lang hurried to the old man's side to support him, "I don't need money here, I will treat you, don't be afraid, I will heal you."

The words in Mo Lang's voice are like a plate of charcoal fire in the twelfth lunar month of winter, it will only give people nothing, [exclusively published in Jin|||Jiang Wencheng]

A man wearing indigo boots came down from the red official sedan chair. The cold wind blew the brocade cloak behind him. He stood beside the sedan chair, staring at Mo Lang for a long time.