"Okay." Fu Yunge chuckled, "...the same goes for you."
The wind blew through the curtains of the carriage and tapped Tumi's cheek a few times. She raised her hand to hold it, turned sideways with all her strength, stretched out her other hand, and handed it to Fu Yunge: "Then let's pull the hook."
Fu Yunge shrugged. Even though he was a little naive, he didn't want to go against Tumi's little thoughts during this parting moment.
Stretching out his little finger, the two of them hooked together tightly.
The corners of Fu Yunge's eyebrows were soft, as if they were bent by the dew of the autumn night. After a long time, he slowly let go, and Tumi also slowly retracted his hand.
Not far away, the groom's voice came.
There was the sound of the carriage, and Fu Yunge stood there, watching the back of the carriage disappear from sight.
The wind is still. The grass blades bowed their heads, the roof tiles were silent, and only the white flags in the distance were noticeable.
It was not a long journey together, but when we parted, it made each other feel uneasy.
The traces of wheels and horses' hooves disappear in the swaying grass. The blood mist was still gathering in front, and the Cangshan Mountain further away was like scales, but it was completely invisible.
Fu Yunge seemed to be missing something in his heart. Now that he was alone, he felt that he was not alone.
The ethereal sword spikes swayed behind him, and he raised his hand to smooth it out. Although there is no trace of the road ahead, it seems that every expression Tumi had before leaving just now is still in front of his eyes and has never left.
…………
And in the distance, on the steep mountain road, blood mist is like waves.
The galloping carriage rumbled, and the wheels rolled through the swirling dust and smoke. The startling wind flattened the autumn grass on both sides, and outside Jiangliang City, a team of carriages and horses kept moving, shaking the stars of the night.
In the middle seat of the car, there was a familiar face, holding a silver fan in his hand, shaking it slightly, looking far away, as if to explore the blood mist.
"Fu Yunge..."
Whispering softly, his eyes were like swords. They drove here for days and nights, trying to arrive in time for Fu Yunge's letter.
Looking back at the time when the two separated, I didn't expect that such a long time had passed. But now they are about to meet again, and they are facing the ultimate black hand who controls the blood mist killing situation.
With a heavy heart, he squeezed the handle of the fan tightly, leaving a thin trace of sweat on his cool face.
Calculating this... he would be able to arrive in Fenglu County by tomorrow night at the latest.
Looking at this long and arduous journey, Dongfang Shiming's heart was filled with ups and downs.
His original intention has never changed. If Jiuche Xiaoying really wanted to ruin all the people in the world, then he would stay with him to the end even if he risked his life.
…………
The faint shadow of the blood river and the boat lights are filled in the thick fog, lingering for a long time.
The swaying stern of the ship has docked at the end of the fog. The stagnant water is full of water, and the blood and tendons at the bottom of the river are intertwined in horror. They stir from time to time, as if they are sucking the surging sea of blood on the other side.
They lost their way several times and finally arrived here.
Darkness blends with the viscosity of blood. The stench is overwhelming, and the ringing of death echoes endlessly. This place is like the opening of hell, definitely not a human scene.
The mud beneath his feet seemed to have been completely soaked by the river of blood, turning it into a muddy swamp.
Occasionally, I stepped on something hard under my feet, and when I peeled off the soil, I could see a patch of gray. It turned out that what supported them barely standing were piles of white bones that had not been digested. They were extremely horrifying and disgusting.
"……Amitabha."
Seeing such a miserable and suffering purgatory scene, the lamp-hanging monk stood like a cast bronze statue and chanted sutras to save the souls of the dead.
Golden light hovered around him, like a faint glow of fireflies. But with his Buddhist vow alone, facing such a massive number of dead souls and resentful ghosts, he was as helpless as a mud cow entering the sea.
Zui Chenxiang did not disturb him. After leading the remaining people to make arrangements, they finally decided to rest in the boat, which was safer.
Even with the protection of a mask, the deeper you go into the blood mist, the more obvious the damage becomes.
Therefore, even though their team is considered elite, they still inevitably suffer heavy casualties as they go deeper. Calculated now, the number of troops who can reach here alive is less than 50% compared with the original number.
There were spare masks and food in the boat, so Zui Chenxiang asked everyone to rest first. He got out of the boat alone and walked to the side of the hanging lamp monk.
"...Is it going well?"
Zui Chenxiang didn't talk much, but the hanging lamp monk had been closing his eyes for a long time, so he had to be a little concerned.
The hanging lamp monk slowly opened his eyes and said: "It's a pity. The effect is very little. Every time the poor monk saves a soul, more new souls flow out from there, and there is no end to the obstruction."
Zui Chenxiang nodded and looked at the dazzling red light in the distance: "The power of your Buddhist sect should be their nemesis. Maybe it will be useful to send more people to Xuandeng Temple."
However, the hanging lamp monk quickly shook his head: "The power of the source of the blood mist cannot be suppressed by the power of a simple sea of people."
"The ghosts here, the poor monk guessed that they originated from the blood mist that captured the lives of the people everywhere. The blood mist is endless, and it will have no effect just to save it." He clasped his palms together and lowered his eyes compassionately, "Moreover, there are tens of thousands of ghosts. , even if all the manpower of the temple is used, it may not be enough."
Zui Chenxiang frowned. After the hanging lamp monk's explanation, he understood the difficulty of the current situation.
"That's it." He grabbed the wine gourd at his waist, unscrewed the lid and took two sips, "It's really difficult."
The hanging lamp monk sighed, his eyebrows like two slender broom threads.
After Zui Chenxiang finished drinking, he raised his sleeves and wiped the corners of his mouth: "Wait a minute, please go and use the magic circle to protect everyone's camp."
The hanging lamp monk responded enthusiastically. Looking at the boat hiding in the darkness, he felt even more sad.
The faint shadow of the sampan is like a ghost in the river. Looking back at the road we came from, there is no trace of it, only the miserable wind and the dense back and forth.
…………
It's five o'clock and the sky is still dark.
The ruins with scattered peaks and crumbling mud have spent the day in silence after the torrential rain.
Where the hero's soul falls into the dust, the light shines brightly in the night. In the midst of the turbid mud, there is something forgotten by everyone, shining like a star just before dawn.
It symbolizes the last will of the unyielding, but at this moment, it is scattered in the autumn wind, covered by layers of blood mist, and no one cares about it.
The sunken rocks emitted a low cry that sounded like weeping. Opposite the bright light, in a corner of the mountain shadow, I am waiting for the inheritance of destiny.
Fallen leaves are flying. Scraping over the high-hanging forest branches and brushing over the tangled grass stems, it seemed to dye the earth yellow.
A fallen leaf swirled low and fell, gently covering the place where the light emitted. Immediately, the sharp light was extinguished, and the destiny seemed to be sleeping underground again.
However, maybe destiny is inevitable.
The cross wind swept in all directions. Along with the splashing mud, a tall figure slowly came from the distance.
The forest wind blew through the room and ruffled the hem of his clothes. The waist of the horizontal knife is copper-colored. A piece of emerald-like mysterious emblem shines, deeply embedded with dragon and tiger seals, and looks even more solemn among the mottled autumn colors.
