Peach Blossom Dyeing Jinge

The boy's question stunned him.

He had been imprisoned in Yushan for countless years, but this was the first time he heard voices.

The young man's voice was clear and clear, as if the ice edge was melting and a cold spring was flowing, as if someone had pushed away the mist and haze in the chaos, revealing a ray of skylight, which sprinkled on his shoulders impartially.

He couldn't help turning his head and looked at the other party carefully.

The young man's body was not covered with a single thread, but was covered with mud, and his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, as if he had just slept in the dirt all night. His whole body was dirty, except for a pair of extremely clear eyes. It's like a bright moon in the sky after nightfall.

Unlike the candles in the world, the brighter the moonlight, the more deserted it will be.Amidst the boundless mountain scenery, an indescribable coolness emanated from the young man's body, which almost made him avoid his sight.

But he didn't do that. He put down the knife in his hand, faced the opponent directly, and replied: "My god name is Gun. I was granted the title of Chongdi, and some people called me Chongbo, but the title and title have been abolished. So I don't have a name now."

The boy frowned.

He immediately raised the corners of his mouth, and changed his brisk tone, "Anyway, there are only you and me here, so the name doesn't matter."

The boy hesitated for a moment, then let go of the gap between his brows and said, "Okay."

He asked again, "Why are you here?"

The young man blinked: "The Youmao was originally where I lived."

He couldn't help being startled, "So that's how it is. It's been so long since the battle of Zhuolu. But at that time you...you..."

The young man ignored his hesitation, lowered his gaze, and said calmly: "It was indeed I who lost at that time."

He couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

In the Battle of Zhuolu, Youying was defeated by the joint efforts of the gods. He was also a member of the battle at that time. Youying's terrifying appearance is still engraved in his mind. As if night itself, as death itself.

Youying is indeed a symbol of death. Everything in the world is formed by the combination of Taiji and Yang, candlelight is yang, and youying is yin.Where Youying passed, everything decayed and died, and people on the land of China naturally regarded it as an ominous omen.

However, the aura of heaven and earth complements each other, even if Youying suffers setbacks, she will not disappear from now on, but will be scattered in appearance and expelled to the most desolate corner of the earth.These places are called the deep marshes.A wisp of remnant soul resides in the secluded swamp, absorbs spiritual energy, recondenses its appearance, and turns into the appearance of a young man.

Seeing that he was silent, Youying asked, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

He replied: "It's useless to be afraid, this is your territory, if you want to get rid of me, it's really easy."

The boy didn't get rid of him, but just stared at him blankly.

At that time, the secluded swamp was shrouded in the deep shadow of the mountains, and only a gleam of light penetrated through the stone cracks between the two mountains, and sprinkled on him impartially.

His appearance is not commensurate with this darkness, his figure seems to come from the clouds.Bathing in Lanfang, Huacai Ruoying.

No wonder the young man was fascinated by it.

He chuckled softly: "I knew you were reluctant to get rid of me, after all, this is the only place where I can talk to you."

The young man frowned and said, "Why are you here?"

He shrugged: "It's boring in the sky, so I came to the world for a while, do you believe it?"

The boy shook his head: "I don't believe it."

With a chuckle, he turned his gaze to the high rock crevice: "I was imprisoned here. I violated a taboo, and since then I have been deprived of my title and fiefdom, and my consciousness has been imprisoned in the secluded swamp, unable to leave half a step away." .”

The young man froze for a moment, then frowned and said: "Then I have nothing to do, my appearance has been dismantled, only a wisp of my soul remains, and it will cease to exist when I leave Youmao. I can't help you."

"Yes, I think it would be nice for you to talk to me."

The teenager blinked: "You'd better not talk to me."

"Why? You shouldn't be an annoying kid."

"I'm not a child, it's just that I don't have enough spiritual power, so I turned into a child."

"Well, the current look suits you better than a tall black monster."

The young man seemed a little sullen, but in the end he just sighed: "Whether gods or humans love light and hate darkness, as long as they are alive, they want to avoid death; as long as they are prosperous, they want to avoid decline. You have nothing to say."

The boy's tone was flat, without emotions of joy or anger, as if he was describing the fact that the sun rises and sets.After finishing speaking, he looked away, glanced across the ground, and quickly noticed the pattern on the ground.

This is a secluded swamp where not a single blade of grass grows, however, on the cracked land, there are thousands of spiritual creatures in the world, birds, animals, flowers and trees, mountains, rivers, lakes and seas, all of which are outlined by graceful lines and are lifelike.

He walked around in front of the boy and smiled: "How is it, does it look good?"

Obviously he was the one who destroyed the land, but his tone seemed to be asking for credit.

The young man frowned and didn't know how to refute, so he could only ask along the way: "You carved these?"

"Yes."

"boring."

"No, no, there are many wonderful things," he said with a smile on the corner of his mouth, "I sculpt something to remember it, and every stroke I sculpt contains my heart and soul." Think about it, in this way, even if I can't touch it, I won't forget what it looks like. Even if I'm imprisoned here for a long time, I still have everything in the world, how can I be bored."

The young man looked at him again, with a hesitant expression, as if he understood, but also as if he didn't understand.

The eyes of the two met, and they were silent for a while. The young man probably still didn't understand, his eyelids drooped, and his face was tired, as if he was about to fall asleep.

Youying just gathered aura, and when she fell asleep, a few phantoms appeared on the soles of her feet, and her body was shrouded in a cloud of mist, as if she was about to disperse in the mist and re-integrate with the sky and the earth.

"Wait," he took a step forward, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, "won't you stay a little longer?"

"What are you staying for?"

"I can carve a statue for you and record your appearance."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he was also stunned. He really didn't understand why he would make such a proposal.

The boy's skin was cold.

His hands are warm.

As the breeze blew, the two met in a wild place, and each of them had some thoughts that they had never had before, like the clouds and mists in the mountains, which were still unclear and incomprehensible.

He raised his hand and pointed: "Sit down, just sit on the rock over there."

The young man's face was a bit dazed, but he still followed his instructions and sat upright on a convex rock beside the cave.

He brought mountain springs, washed the boy's body, and gave him his clothes to cover his body.After some cleaning, the boy's body was much cleaner, his bright eyes were looking into the distance, his long hair was gathered into a bunch, and slipped behind his shoulders.

As if the wind and rain had stopped, the woods suddenly became quiet, and the branches drooped, casting mottled shadows on the ground.

That figure was really pure, and it also fascinated him.

The gods created man, and the man harbored faith, and in turn, transformed the appearance of the god into his pen, or depicted it as a scroll, or carved it into a stone statue, and worshiped it devoutly.Once upon a time, in his land, there were also people who carved statues for him.

However, people yearn for light but hate darkness, yearn for life but hate death, so no one has ever made a portrait of Youying.

It's really a pity.

Thinking of this, the knife in his hand slowed down, stroke by stroke, with patience, hoping to keep the beauty in front of him for a long time.

The young man sat for a while, his head drooping to his chest again, and his figure gradually blurred, as if he was about to return to the swamp under his feet.

"Don't fall asleep."

"will not."

"If you are bored, I can sing to you."

The boy raised his head and cast his questioning eyes on him.

Before the other party agreed, he hummed a song to himself.

After singing a song, he asked, "Does it sound good?"

The boy shook his head: "It doesn't sound good."

He laughed dryly: "After all, I am also a parrot, and I haven't used my voice for a long time before talking to you. The real song is much better."

God does not need songs. He has only heard real songs in this world.

There are always endless songs in the world. When people are happy, they sing around the bonfire, and when they are sad, they sit in the open space and sing softly.In his fiefdom, Wu Ji in the village used to be the best singer. After Wu Ji died, people carried the coffin and walked on the winding mountain road, still singing.

The magnificent song passed through his desolate heart, leaving some strange things behind.

He thought that life is short and misty, full of life and death, sorrow and hardship, so people pour all the long forbearance and momentary happiness into songs, and sing the strings and drums to harmonize with each other.Keep the grace and eternity in memory for a long time.

He learned the song, and also the habit of retaining memories.He befriends mortals and becomes more and more human.

At this moment, while humming to himself, he slashed the blade across the stone, leaving beautiful arcs.

He almost forgot that he was a prisoner, forgot his unpaid ambitions and wasted years, forgot all kinds of grievances and unwillingness, and a pure and happy smile appeared on his face.

The young man tilted his head, listening to his jerky and out of tune singing.In the intermittent singing, the moment seems to be stretched infinitely.

The strokes and strokes he engraved will be reflected in the eyes of another person after tens of millions of years.