Changyufeng walked on the tree-lined path and looked at the destroyed and trampled trees. They were as if they were cut down and killed, and their devastated appearance made Changyufeng sigh.

"I really don't want to be like this." He murmured to himself and picked up his crutch, knocked on the ground, making a crisp sound, and started to use it again.

He is now like a thin sick man with no power, moving slowly in the dark dusk.

"Who wants to take revenge on me?"

He continued to say, saying what he said in his heart: "I lied, I actually have an enemy... Shikash... could it be him?"

Changyufeng looked at the spots of light scattered like fish scales in the shade. The lights slowly turned from dusk to orange sunset, reflecting in Changyufeng's eyes, but were full of doubts and anxiety.

"Can you? That woman... definitely didn't appear out of thin air..." Of course he knew that the woman didn't appear out of thin air, but he didn't know how to search for information about this woman.

Maybe you can ask your friends of the Flying Eagles to find out the crowd that has recently entered Franc City.

Alas... he sighed... it seemed like there was a lot to say... but he could only hold it in his heart...

Say it to yourself.

He didn't know what his memory was. The faults in memory were very obvious. He began with the crazy ice dragon he witnessed when he was a child, and then repeated over and over again, fragmented, broken and incomplete memories for hundreds of years.

I have... the memory of my practice in an immortal mountain in an empire. The mountain was shrouded in clouds and mist, and the dragons gathered together, which was so beautiful. His hard work in his practice, he never felt any fatigue, nor did he think about what kind of master of the immortal mountain he was...

When the tragic fate came, he knew almost nothing... He did abnormal things, had abnormal thinking behavior, and had no way to do normal people's behavior.

He followed someone's footsteps and died in the dark shadow of his heart bursting.

There is... the memory of himself in a place where he didn't know his name. He died in the flames, as if he was feeling the baptism of sin on earth.

The most he has experienced was the days he lived in Wenti County.

But he almost never had a happy day.

When those sad and miserable childhoods came, it made his whole body feel cool. Perhaps it was because he felt that the tree-lined path that was about to enter the evening was cold, and the wind was also cold. He walked a little faster, and the sound of crutches knocking on the ground began to get faster.

Bang, tick, just one step, like a hit instrument, making this journey that should have been lonely less lonely, and the air is filled with strange smells that make people unable to understand.

That might be the unique smell left by the demon essence of a single arrow.

"By the way..." He thought of something, put his hand in his pocket very lightly, and took out a bird bone pen and a small notebook full of itineraries.

"Chen Lin... is that right..."

He asked himself, but he did not answer himself.

He felt sad again, so he let out a deep breath.

Because he could only use the descriptive text of the Principality to record her name. But he was a little unwilling to accept it and wrote down Chen Lin's name on it.

Chen Lin's two words were written by him that he had only read once and then imitated them crookedly. He only remembered the lines, horizontally and vertically, and it was not so clear.

Maybe that woman and I are from the same place, but now it is not...

He is now a complete priest, which makes him a little sad and sad, but he has nowhere to vent.

Looking at the two words, he almost sighed and shook his head repeatedly.

In any case, he needed to pay off the medical expenses of the Carolingan family's three thousand gold coins first. Unsurprisingly, three thousand gold coins are an absolute astronomical number. He worked hard to do three jobs and took three months.

This does not include his own room and accommodation costs, and he can save as much as possible. It is conceivable that he has never lived well in the past three months.

His current lament was even more resentful than his own body that needed care.

Three pre-school students, he was certainly a serious illness. The doctor said that it was because of a congenital heart disease, the fragile thing in the heart actually controls a person's life and death, which really makes people fear it.

Before he got sick, he was depressed and was still thinking stupidly about what it means to be alive. The entanglement of fragments of memories in his brain made him feel in pain. He didn't know how to face the broken self, the broken woman in the broken memory, everything.

What is the meaning of such a life? He lives, but never feels that he is truly living.

Where is his desire? He doesn't want money, power, power, eroticism, he almost doesn't want anything...

He was alive, almost just a living body, and this body was suffering from extremely painful torture. No one could escape from his own body, and this body had never been said by any soul.

What he wants to be is nothing more than a part of his life, a life he lives day by day.

Then this kind of life without goals is meaningless... because everyone comes like this... the reason to support him to live seems not that sufficient.

He wanted to understand where everything he had... came from and why he left... instead of coming for no reason, leaving for no reason...

People and life are nothing more than birth, old age, sickness and death... He lives without desire, as if he is just being pulled... waiting for death...

This is sad... It is so sad that when he drinks to relieve his sorrow, he also feels that bitter wine is tasteless... Why should people drink when they are sad? Perhaps it is because drinking will cause some damage to themselves. With the alcohol, they will only be born for one day and die for one day, and they will be bored in the next life.

After getting sick and recovering... he really didn't think so...

Not everyone can accept death...

If he simply summarized his enlightenment as living better than dying, it would be too simple...

Death does not mean the final end of a person, forgetting is the whole life that the living person remembers, the whole life that this person has...

He was sadly thinking about who would be the saddest one if he died... He could not end his life calmly because he didn't know the meaning of his life...

He could not have felt guilty and had no worries in his heart, and was running towards death because he didn't know how he should live in this world...

He could not lose the right to choose how to live because he did not know how he should live next.

He may not know, and it is normal for him to not know. If he doesn’t know, he has to look for him, and if he doesn’t know, he has to look for him.

This is also the meaning of life.

That's it... what he wants to search for is the meaning of life that he needs to devote his whole life, and may not necessarily find.

Perhaps as an ordinary person, he is very ordinary and lacks the pleasure of life, perhaps as a patient, he is desperate and unable to face the difficulties in life, or as a person who makes mistakes, he cannot know the motivation to move forward.

The meaning of life is no longer the same as that of everyone living in this world.

"There is another birthday party..." He wrote down: "Sir Baiyi's birthday party..."

invite……

He collected his things, picked up his crutches, and slowly walked on the land of the tree-lined path with a clatter.

He was silent because there was no one around him...

He is naturally lonely because he himself is unwilling to communicate with others...

But he is not pitiful... because he will always walk above his own life and seek the meaning of his own life.

Maybe it was difficult, but when he came over, that was it...

He accepted himself, but it did not mean he accepted his fate.

In one memory fragment after another, his back as he walked alone appeared more and more. In every memory he wanted to find, loneliness seemed to be his most loyal friend and would not let him... lonely...

This is simply the most severe irony of life...

But it is also a gift. He never expects others and never relies on others. No matter how deep and powerful the suffering is, he bears it alone, and never thinks that anyone will share the burden.

He never touches himself, nor does he want to break his principles - not hurt others... but can withstand the harm of others.

He walked, listening to the crisp sound of his crutch and the land, the return birds rushed towards him and chirped. He did not feel the beautiful and free creature chirping noisy.

A smile was hanging on the corner of his mouth, as if he felt that this beauty had dissipated with his fatigue...

But behind him, the sound of kicking and stomping footsteps came.

"Get out of the way!" A brain wearing a black robe shouted at Chang Yufeng loudly. His eagerness was as if he rushed directly to Chang Yufeng's eyes, and a red blood blade slashed directly.

Looking at the red blood blade like a sharp knife, Chang Yufeng stared in shock. The sharp knife was like a line and a hint of sweat on the tip of Chang Yufeng's nose. He said it was fast at that time. I don't know if Chang Yufeng's reaction was fast or Chang Yufeng's life should not be extinct. The moment he turned around, a white pigeon just flew over Chang Yufeng's head and rushed straight to Chang Yufeng's head, and rushed to the bloody blade.

With a puff, Changyufeng's eyes were shocked, and the white pigeon was cut into two halves, and blood splattered on Changyufeng's face, allowing him to squat down quickly and avoid this attack in a thrilling manner.

The terrible culprit ran away eagerly, although it was a little strange. He wanted to kill the gangster in front of him and directly empty the tree-lined path.

He was running away. In addition to being frightened, he shook his body in fear. A golden sculpture rolled down from his arms and fell straight in front of Changyufeng's eyes.

Chang Yufeng was shocked and could not avoid this terrible disaster. He almost died on the spot before he could react when he encountered someone and had encountered something...

I didn't even look at the golden sculpture carefully, and I thought about nothing. I grabbed it in my hand. The blood-colored sharp knife quickly pressed on Changyufeng's head, preparing to cut it off with one knife, and end the innocent barrier, so that I could pick up my own golden sculpture.

Changyufeng raised his hand with a golden sculpture, and blocked the terrible attack of beheading. Almost instinctively, he quickly resisted, rolled to the side, and suddenly rolled into the bushes on the tree-lined path, opening up the distance from the man.

"Who are you?!" Chang Yufeng's aura was chaotic, and he did not recover from the terrible scene just now. He looked up and saw that the man in black robe had his eyes red, his eyes as red as blood, and he quickly came to Chang Yufeng's side.

Chang Yufeng lowered his waist and immediately started running. The blood of the dove on his face and white feathers slowly flowed down. Today, the terrible word "blood" had never left his face.

While he was leaning over and running, he looked at the owner of the red blood sword slowly flowing out of the terrible black air...

That's the same demonic energy as that demon!

Today, his spirit seemed to be shocked, which made him feel a little nameless.

The pigeon almost died for him once, which was extremely abnormal. But now, he could only thank the pigeon and snorted suddenly, holding the gold sculpture dyed with the blood of the pigeon as if he was holding a long knife, and quickly thought about the countermeasures of the battle.

He found that the instinctive reaction and thinking of this fighting technique benefited him a lot, and this was the only gift given to him by the painful memory that made him not complain.

He was not afraid at all, and could even feel his blood flowing rapidly, so that his heart became beating clearly in his ears. It was not fear, but extremely instinctive excitement of fighting.

"Why kill me?"

He shouted loudly. Although his position was exposed, his behavior was the most correct decision under the battle. He counterattacked immediately, opened the distance immediately, and grabbed the "weapon" immediately.

This fierce and evil master of Blood Sword was unable to kill himself as soon as possible.
To be continued...