Mo Yi's eyelids were dyed a blinding blood red, the warm touch thawed his senses slightly, the sticky salty blood dripped on the frozen pale skin, and flowed down the contours of his face to his lips. By the side, a strong rust smell could be tasted in the frozen numb mouth.
He was startled and angry, and the strength from unknown source spread across his frozen body.
Mo Yi struggled to sit up, stretched out his slender fingers that had been frozen into bruises and light purple, and grabbed Wen Chen's wrist that was constantly dripping blood, and said sharply: "What are you doing?!"
Wen Chen stared at him calmly, extreme paranoia surged in the depths of the light gray eyes, and looked a little creepy under the soft and affectionate expression, he spoke softly, with a gentle tone as if trying to coax an ignorant child:
"Don't make trouble, you can warm up like this."
Any physical temperature can't alleviate the negative effects of the game on the player, so what about non-physical
Wen Chen's light-colored eyes had deep dark colors flowing, as if the hazy mist intertwined with the pitch-black night, with a faint smile on his lips, and then with a chilling determination, he tore at his wrist. The wound caused thick and bright red blood to flow out like a spring, dripping on Mo Yi's pale face and lips, with an unusually gentle expression.
—So, what about the blood that contains your own original power
Surely it will work, right
Mo Yi's eyes were full of uncontrollable anger, like a dark lake revealed after the ice cracked, almost hard to look at, he said through gritted teeth:
"Is there something wrong with you? This, this is just a side effect of my use of Dao, props, and it will be over after three hours."
His speech was slow, trembling slightly because of the cold, and every word was extremely firm:
"Stop it for me, do you hear me?"
Wen Chen's calm expression was mixed with surprise and surprise, he stared at Mo Yi with suddenly lit eyes, and said softly: "...you look much better, so it's useful, right?"
Strictly speaking, it is useful.
Mo Yi's previous state was that he could not feel the temperature of the outside world at all. The only thing occupying his mind and nerves was the terrifying coldness pouring out from the depths of his bones, which almost froze his body and soul together, but Wen Chen's The blood seemed to be a combination of burning flames and warm milk, silently and quickly melting the ice covering Mo Yi's consciousness and body, rolling down his throat into his stomach like scalding and appropriate warm water, The cold that almost made him tremble was dissipated along the blood vessels and nerves.
However, as rational as Mo Yi, although he doesn't fully know what Wen Chen's blood means to him, he can always guess something based on the previous situation, such as its almost immediate healing effect on him, and Wen Chen would enter a weak state every time after bloodletting—although he thought he concealed it well, he couldn't hide it from Mo Yi's eyes.
Once Mo Yi didn't mind, even acquiesced, it was because he didn't care about anyone except himself.
And now...
Mo Yi gritted his teeth and stared at Wen Chen. The green and white fingers clasped on the other's wrist were stained a dazzling red with blood, and the blood gushed out unstoppably from his fingers, as if he was trying to stop the mountain spring from gushing out. It was also in vain, his voice was as cold and determined as ice on a snow mountain:
"How could it be useful, are you stupid?"
He stared at Wen Chen, his cold gaze seemed to have substance, and his voice was soft but heavy:
"Stop—I don't want to say it a third time."
The shimmering light in Wen Chen's eyes was like a flame swaying in a strong wind. After shaking, he slowly extinguished. He stared at Mo Yi with a dim expression, as if a wounded beast was quietly licking its wound. The pain and helplessness he felt were wrapped in a hard and expressionless shell, otherwise Mo Yi would have noticed the slightest fragility of himself.
The wound on his wrist healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the bright red blood was still imprinted deeply on his pale wrist, and the blood beads that were about to fall were hanging on the fingertips, tremblingly converging into drops, and then quickly As it fell, the snow-white sheet greedily sucked and devoured the blood, smudged into a bright scar on the surface of the cloth.
Wen Chen slowly stretched out his arms to embrace Mo Yi, his arms were gently tightened with an uncontrollable trembling, his pale chin was carefully stuck on Mo Yi's shoulder, as if he was hugging something that would melt at the touch. Like a snowman, his voice is so soft that even Mo Yi, who is close at hand, can't hear it clearly, and every syllable is painful to the marrow:
"… sorry."
Mo Yi lowered his eyelashes quietly, his expressionless face was like ice, he sighed silently, then slowly raised his trembling hand that was swept by the cold again, and pressed it on Wen Chen On the slightly arched back. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of his throat—the cold swept over like a storm, almost instantly depriving his body of the remaining warmth.
He felt that his consciousness and brain were sealed again by the cold, becoming numb and chaotic.
Mo Yi blinked vigorously, trying to wake himself up, but the effect was minimal. His voice was as low as a sigh quickly swallowed by the wind, and he said slowly and hard in Wen Chen's ear: "If... You, if you really want me to feel better, in fact, Jane, a simple hug will be fine... "
Wen Chen gritted his teeth, slowly put Mo Yi down on the bed, wrapped him three layers in the blood-stained quilt, and then wrapped Mo Yi tightly. Holding him in his arms, that watertight protective gesture seemed to be trying to embed Mo Yi deeply into his bone marrow, blend into his own flesh and blood, and eat him without any residue—but the strength of his arm was light. It seems to be embracing some fragile object, and even the slightest collision can instantly shatter the existence in the embrace.
He stared blankly not far away, with a gloomy and silent expression, not knowing what he was thinking.
The light gray eyes seemed to be silently burning with eternal wildfire, which would not stop until it devoured everything.
must…
·
Mo Yi was half-dream and half-awake, his eyes were frozen into a strange scene, his teeth chattered slightly, but his deep consciousness was still awake, counting down the time, counting the passage of every minute and every second , but these three hours have become extremely long, as if three hundred years have not ended.
He struggled to move his fingers under the quilt, took out the heavy ring, and thought drowsily in his heart:
Anyway, there's nothing to do now... instead of wasting time, it's better to...
Thinking vaguely like this, Mo Yi slowly put the ring on his ring finger with trembling fingers. Since he was not conscious, he did not align it several times. Finally, he found After finding the right position, he slowly pushed the ruby ring down along the knuckles of his finger, and it fit right on the root of his finger.
He blinked slowly, feeling that his consciousness seemed to be inspired by the cold, and sank soundlessly into the cold icy lake... Immediately afterwards, his heart suddenly contracted without warning, as if his consciousness was pulled back to the real world in an instant It was normal, causing his blood pressure and heart rate to rise instantly, and the feeling of weightlessness made his brain wake up instantly.
Although he could still feel the cold, it was not as harsh as before, as if it was intruding in through a thin layer of glass, and this kind of temperature was already a child's play for Mo Yi who was used to the severe cold.
Mo Yi blinked a little sluggishly, and was cleared by the cold and hazy vision. He realized belatedly that he was actually standing.
He was standing alone in the wing by himself.
The cold, stone cellar-like room was filled with the smell of dust that made one's throat tickle, and a more familiar smell was mixed in it. The strong sweet scent surrounded Mo Yi's senses as if suddenly rising smoke, making him I almost feel reflexively nauseated and tense, and that sweet scent in this copy is like a long, thin, dark shadow of death, following every death and every corpse like a shadow, almost ominous synonymous with.
The sweet and frightening smell pervades the empty room, almost stirring people's nerves as if it were a living thing, enveloping everyone trapped in it turbulently and menacingly.
Mo Yi frowned, coughed in a low voice, then lowered his head to look at the ring on his finger—
The golden ring and the pigeon-blood ruby were still stained with solidified blood, which looked very strange under the dim light. Mo Yi couldn't tell whether it was stained on the bed before or during this "memory" Inherent look.
The reason why Mo Yi thinks this is a "memory" is because the side hall that is presented to him now is definitely not the scene on the current timeline-although the current side hall is dim, there are already a few faint lights on. The lamp illuminated the dark hall a little. The room was empty, without the strange appearance of white shadows that Mo Yi had seen before when he came. There were only a few lonely furniture in the center of the room, covered There is a thick layer of white cloth, and on one side of the room is a familiar portrait.
The colors on it were meticulously drawn, lifelike, not at all the stiff and ugly look that Mo Yi had seen after the end of the second week, but even so, he could still find that the whole portrait hadn't been completely painted. After painting, the lower half of the portrait is still unpainted, but strangely enough, the paint on the head and shoulders of the woman in the portrait has begun to dry, showing faint signs of cracking.
On the ground, there was a half-withered rose quietly.
Mo Yi frowned suspiciously, took a few steps back, then turned around and walked towards the only furniture covered in white cloth in the hall, grabbed the edge of the white cloth with his fingers, and slowly pulled the cloth covering it ripped off—
The dark and shiny wood is displayed in front of him.
Mo Yi's heart skipped a beat.
The "furniture" under the white cloth is a coffin.
Before he could do anything next, he heard light footsteps coming from outside the closed door—
The sound of the door being pulled open immediately sounded.