"you… "
not coming out
Xia Qiao murmured, his heart skipped a beat, and finally understood what Bu Ning meant by "crazy".
The hand he stretched towards the cage door shrank, subconsciously wanting to withdraw it, but was caught by the smell and sent it forward.
"Brother!" Xia Qiao hurriedly called out, but his palm had already touched something.
- It looked like a wet fog, just like the fog that can be seen everywhere in the mountains and forests. They could even see the birds jumping up from the branches through the dense pale blue.
But when Xia Qiao touched it, a golden crack instantly spread in the wet mist, huge and clear.
It seems that there is a huge glass wall standing here from beginning to end, and countless people have passed by here for thousands of years, but no one can see it.
It was only at this moment that the clues were revealed for the first time.
Violent air currents poured out from the cracks, shattering the grass and trees.
Xia Qiao suddenly turned his face away, dodging the air current that was enough to tear his skin, and his palms trembled violently under the thrust of the wind.
Those air currents, with the coldness of the mountain tops, frosted along his fingers, from the fingertips to the wrists.
It was extremely painful, but he tasted a familiar taste in that pain.
It's like... the soul goes home.
At that moment, he smelled the clearest smell of scorched blood, just like what he smelled when he walked out of the sealing formation in his place.
This is the moment when Xiaqiao and Cage are the closest and most connected. Perhaps because of this, he suddenly understood Wen Shi's decision.
If you don't come out, don't come out. Xia Qiao thought to himself: There is also me, I will accompany them.
Shouldn't puppet be like this? Born to stand beside the puppet master and never leave.
He didn't know this before, and it's not too late to start to understand now.
But just as he turned his hand to break open the cage door, and was about to step in behind Wen Shi, someone pushed him gently...
Xia Qiao was almost at a loss.
He subconsciously looked at the hand on his chest, not understanding what was going on for a while. He only heard a huge wind field screaming in his ears, and the smell of blood mixed with scorch lightened suddenly.
By the time he reacted, he was already standing outside the cage.
The golden crack opened by him was quickly closed under the influence of another force—
The cage door was closing, and he was pushed out when he was smelled.
He was ready to die, but was pushed out of the cage when he was heard.
"Brother!!!" Xia Qiao stepped forward abruptly, grabbed a crack with his fingers, and tried to re-establish contact with the cage. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the feeling he had before.
… as if that connection had been severed.
Except for the smell when he walked into the cage, he couldn't think of a second person who could do this.
I didn't intend to bring anyone when I smelled it.
From the beginning to the end, Wen Shi did not intend to bring others into this cage.
Realizing this, Xia Qiao's blood rushed, but his heart was like an ice cave.
His eyes suddenly reddened, and he tried his best to tear open the cage door and follow, the back of his hands and neck bulging with blue veins: "Brother, let me in!"
"Don't be alone!" Xia Qiao said in the wind, his voice hoarse: "You can't be alone! I'm leading the way, you agreed to let me lead the way—"
He heard the sound of hearing from the long and narrow crack, carrying the wind from the top of the mountain: "You are finished, it has nothing to do with you."
"It's not like this—" Xia Qiao became anxious, "Brother! Don't—I'll go in with you. I have to go with you! Puppets are like this, you—"
"Who treats you as a puppet." Wen Shi's voice was submerged in the long howls of the wind.
But in fact he didn't go far.
Xia Qiao saw his back straight and solitary, and turned to look through the gap, but his eyes didn't stay for long: "You said it too, you called my brother."
All the cracks were completely closed at that moment, and the wind from the top of the mountain stopped abruptly.
The cage door was closed, Xia Qiao's hand lightened, and the energy poured into it had nowhere to go. He stumbled several steps under the influence of inertia, and when he looked up again, there was only the thinnest fog around him.
He stood blankly, unable to hear the sound of the mountain again.
***
It is not early autumn outside the cage, but it is already midwinter inside the cage.
The wind was even stronger than what had come out of the gap before, blowing loose snow on the ground and swirling towards it.
When I smelled it, I lost my eyes in the snow.
From the moment he stepped into the cage, he felt the fragments of the spirit in his body vibrate, blending with the whimpering wind.
Maybe it was because of the influence of the spirit, or maybe it was too cold here, and the fingers of his hanging left hand felt a throbbing pain in his heart.
When smelling, he turned his face away to avoid the wind and snow, his thumb pinched the bone joint, pinching it from the index finger to the ring finger, making a soft clicking sound. After a long time, the stiff pain gradually eased.
The wind and snow were too strong, and all sides were pale.
He lifted his foot but didn't know where to go, and finally took a step on instinct.
…
It had been a long time since he had experienced what it was like to be bone-chilling.
But it's really cold here.
Not only is it cold, the snow field here is eight hundred miles away, silent. Apart from him, it was as if there was no one else in the world.
His body was cold, there was pain in the cracks of his bones, and his spirits collided with the empty body. So much so that there is an illusion - he seems to be trapped here from beginning to end...
The long journey never ends.
He kind of forgot where he came from.
I don't remember how long I walked with my head down, maybe three days, maybe three years... When I smelled it, I suddenly heard a rustling sound, like snow shaking off a high branch.
He looked up in a daze, and saw the pine forest that stretched upwards.
It was a place he used to be very familiar with, the western slope of Songyun Mountain.
In fact, he shouldn't be surprised, and he should have even expected to see Songyun Mountain here. But when he walked to the top of the mountain and saw the two houses through the shadows of the trees, he remained stunned for a long time.
Maybe it's been too far in the snow before...
So at this moment, he suddenly felt that he had finally returned home.
The mountain and the mountain seem to be two worlds.
It was snowy when he came, but it was a clear night on the top of the mountain.
The crescent moon hangs high in the sky, full of stars.
He didn't know what year, what month, what hour, and only saw a person sitting on the branches of the pines in front of him.
The man's long hair was meticulously tied, one leg was bent, the blue waist was almost wrinkled, and the long hem of the white coat hung down along the branches. With white puppet threads wrapped around his fingers, his eyes fell on the crescent moon, without saying a word. I don't know how long I've watched this.
Wen Shi was stunned for a long time, and suddenly realized that... it was himself.
This is actually a very strange scene - oneself looking at another self.
But when he saw the figure on the tree when he smelled it, the spiritual fragments in his body shook. Suddenly he couldn't figure out who he was.
He seemed to have just broken into the prison, and he seemed to be sitting among the pine branches, looking at the crescent moon that looked like a long hook.
…
The fingers of the left hand suddenly throbbed, and they were connected to the heart. When he smelled it, he hunched over from the pain, pinched the most uncomfortable knuckle, and closed his eyes.
In the pain that was slowly relieved, he heard a "squeak" sound from the door not far away, and the rustling footsteps were unhurried, from far to near, and stopped beside him.
His breathing stopped when he smelled it.
After a while, he heard a warm voice say, "What kind of eagle is it that you can't sleep all night?"
When I smelled it, I suddenly opened my eyes, and even forgot the pain of my fingers implicated in my heart.
He saw that he was wearing blue straps around his waist, and his long white coat was hanging down. Behind his head are the thick branches of ancient pine, and in front of him is a crescent moon. He turned his head blankly and saw the man in the red burqa, holding a wind lantern, standing under the tree and looking at him.
no dust...
He moved his lips when he smelled it, but couldn't make a sound.
His throat was dry, as if he hadn't touched water in a long time. As soon as he opened his mouth, the words choked there.
"Why do you only stare at people and don't talk." Chen Bubu's eyes reflected the light of the wind lamp, "Is it a nightmare, or do you want to succumb to me instead of Dapeng?"
He said, raising the wind lamp and shining it around.
In the next instant, the eagle-sized bird glided down from a higher tree, circled around him, and finally stopped on Wen Shi's shoulder.
Wen Shi blinked lightly in the wind brought by the golden-winged Dapeng's wings, and then said, "No."
His voice was hoarse, but because the answers were so short, only he could hear them.
"Another question and answer. I shouldn't have given you a golden-winged Dapeng, I should have given you a starling, and I can teach you to learn tongues." Chen Buoyue scolded with a half truth.
When I smelled it, my Adam's apple moved, and my throat was finally no longer so dry that I couldn't speak.
He casually added: "No nightmare."
"Then go to sleep." Chen Buoyao tilted his face towards the room behind him, and reached out his hand when he rushed to smell it.
Wen Shi lowered his eyes and looked at his hand, and after a long time he reached out to grab it and fell from the pine branch.
It may be because his hands were as stiff as ice when he smelled it, and it seemed that the palm of his hand was surprisingly warm, and even the sharp pain on his fingers was relieved by most of it.
Chen Dao originally just borrowed a force, and when the person fell to the ground, he let go of his hand.
The wrapped warmth was instantly evacuated, and when he smelled it, his hand was cold again. He was stunned for a moment, and then he pinched the most painful finger, and the joint was stiff and blue.
Maybe it was because the momentary stiffness was like some kind of subconscious retention, or maybe it was because his hands were really too cold. After a while, the warmth gripped him again.
The man didn't look back, and took him towards the house: "Why is it so cold. I always make fun of you about snowdrifts, do you take it seriously?"
Wen Shi looked at the tall silhouette of the other party, with a snow-white lining and a red robe draped over his shoulders, still the same look that was impervious to wind and rain. He suddenly couldn't remember why he was here.
…
He seems like he should be here.
"No dust." He called out to the man.
The other party didn't respond immediately. After a while, he made a low "um" and turned to look at him: "What do you want me to do?"
Wen Shi was silent for a moment and said, "It's nothing."
It's just that I can see you every day, but it seems that I haven't seen you for a long, long time.