Po Meng smiled and gave way to Yan Xi, "Girl Yan Xi drinks tea." Her expression was normal, as kind as before, but she felt a little strange in her heart.
She took a sip of the tea, and the bitter warm tea flowed down her throat, even feeling bitter in her heart. On weekdays, I didn’t realize there was anything, but today’s Meng Po’s tea is even worse than usual. A certain corner of my heart aches, and I don't know what is going on.
The brain swelled, and Wuxi frowned. Seeing Po Meng was looking at her, she hurriedly reduced her expression, got up and smiled, "Mother, it's not early, the cat in my house is still waiting for me to feed it. I'm bothering you." After saying that Fushen, turned around and left.
Po Meng looked at the figure of Wuxi passing by the sea of flowers on the other shore. The contrast between the plain white figure and the endless Red Sea was obvious, but unusually harmonious.
She sighed, raised her head and drank the remaining tea in her bowl.
But the hoarse and old ballad by the bridge rang again.
The flowers bloom for a thousand years, and the flowers fall for a thousand years, and the flowers and leaves will never meet.
Love is not causal, edge destined to death.
The other bank flower, the other bank.
Ying Wanzhong, Netherworld Road.
There is no twin when the flowers bloom and the leaves fall, and the thoughts of each other will never return.
The sorrow and loneliness in the song, against the dim yellow light that never shines in the sky, the ghosts in the Wangchuan River became more frantic when they heard this song, and the whole muddy Wangchuan River boiled with grievances. . Countless sharp claws turned to the void fiercely, trying to drag everything they could hold into the water.
Feng Xi is a person who doesn't keep things in his heart, and he always has a low mood in dealing with people and things.
If it were just Mengpo's words, it really made her feel tangled for a moment. When she returned to her few bamboo huts on the border of Fengdu, she saw a dark shadow flashing towards her from a long distance.
She smiled, and the faint lips rose up with a smile, which was very beautiful.
Catching the little thing that was thrown into her arms, Yan Xi scratched its silky black hair, and said with a smile, "Silver turbidity, silver turbidity, why did you sneak out again? Didn’t you say that I’m waiting for my return? ?"
"Meow~" The little claw scratched her sleeve, and the little furry head rubbed her chin lovingly.
Yinzhuo is a cat. Feng Xi picked it up three years ago. At that time, the sky was pattering with light rain. She held an origami umbrella to visit her friends, and passed to Shengdian, where there were endless ghosts. Surrounded by the ghost will lead to the hall. The lives of those people end here, and they are reborn here.
The wet little milk cat was thrown in the corner. In such a solemn place, someone lost a cat. Even if it has a small voice, it can only make a faint sound, but if it is discovered by ghosts, generals and ghosts, it will definitely be lifeless.
Yan Xi never realized that he was a soft-hearted person, and to a place like Shengdian, he couldn't get close to a place like the Hall of Life. She just wanted to hurried over to visit the only old friend she knew in the netherworld, a fox with a quirky temperament.
Therefore, she just drooped her eyelids slightly, and planned to pass by it without changing her face.
Among the sparks and flints, the cat seemed to be back to light, with its soft and feeble little paws hooking her skirt and howling desperately at her.
Seems to be saying, save it—
Yan Xi stopped in surprise, dropped her eyes, and was hitting its shining pupils, flawlessly not stained with dust, Yan Xi hurriedly did not open her eyes, and silently read a Buddhist scripture, took it back, and named it Yinzhuo.