Perhaps, there was no such thing as luck in this world without a reason.
Be it the Wuji Crown Prince, the Fierce King Beiye, or the ferocious Meng Fuyao. To others, they were bright and dazzling, as if they were gods. They worshiped them, envied them, and so on.
But no matter who it was, they all had their own white moonlight in the depths of their hearts.
The ancient and cold moonlight were things that could not be described, and could only be endured alone.
He would always think of the night when Fuyao went to save Qiaoling, when Zhangsun Wuji rushed over in the snow. He said, "You have done something I cannot bear." In the light snow, his slender fingers touched Guo Pingrong's forehead. It was such a gentle gesture, but it made people feel a kind of frozen loneliness.
The snow covered his eyebrows and hair, and the loneliness seeped into his bones.
A precocious youth, a youth who drew military maps at the age of seven, a youth who rebelled at the border at the age of ten … a youth who had high hopes for his parents but was ultimately abandoned.
In the long and difficult years, finally, the child who was locked in a secret room and forced to face a mirror day and night for half a month had finally grown up.
He had grown up, a peerless talent, and a glance from the side was enough to move the eyes and the eyes, but he could no longer cry. Where would he die? Would he die in a dark, darkened room? Would he die in his parents' blatant words? Or would he die in the desolate world around him? Would he die in his overflowing ambition and insatiable desire?
He would have died long ago. Gradually, he could smile, reach out with a smile, and reap the lives of others. Gradually, he looked at the respectful crowd at his feet, and quietly walked out from the crowd, untainted by a speck of dust. Gradually, he became graceful and indifferent, and with a casual expression, he looked down at the lonely mortal world from high above.
Looking at the people, those who prayed for protection harbored evil thoughts, those who sought power with malevolent faces, and those who fought for power, how laughable it was.
And Fuyao was a pure white flower that bloomed on this desolate land.
He had encountered so many hardships — his mother in his previous life was gravely ill, the exorbitant medical fees, the inexplicable transmigration, ten years of boring and arduous training, the contempt and humiliation of the people in his sect, the betrayal of someone who had just fallen in love with him …
Qiao Ling, who had been wholeheartedly trying to save the people of Yao City, had stabbed him with a poisonous needle. Qiao Ling had risked her life alone for the sake of the people of Yao City, only to receive the coldest rejection in her life.
Unexpectedly, she was still able to retain her initial perseverance, gentleness, kindness, and trust in humanity.
This woman could allow herself to cry, but she would never allow herself to give up. There was a kind of solitary bravery in this woman, a kind of bravery that even if there were millions of people around her, she would still go forward.
When she met Limitless, no one would not be moved by this person. He was the one who first pulled Fu Yao away when the dagger was about to pierce his body. He was the one who laid beside the drunken Fu Yao and said, "Everything will be fine." He was the one who lowered his head and smiled at her amidst the sound of bones cracking.
She probably knew what was bothering him. Yes, she liked him. She liked him too, but she couldn't let herself be with him.
Therefore, she chose to "Love Lock" to turn into poison in an attempt to extinguish her own thoughts. So she said that she didn't have any improper thoughts about anyone.
It was just that she didn't know that when they met, her firmness, tenacity, warmth, and dazzling brilliance were the only things that appeared in their lonely lives that they cherished.
Therefore, Fierce King Zhan Beiye said that he would never give up.
Zhan Beiye was a man that Ya Lanzhu could never forget after seeing him once.
Every night, he slept on the doorstep, waiting for his sleepwalking mother to step on his child.
Tian Sha Imperial Palace was cold and quiet. Under the bustling and lonely Crape Myrtle, a young man washed the hair of his crazy Imperial Concubine Mother.
At the age of eighteen, he still hadn't opened his own mansion. In the end, he went to Geya, and when he came back, he saw his grandfather's charred corpse.
For three years, he took root in the barren Geya Desert. He never had a good night's sleep. His name made the desert bandits and Mo Luo Cavalry tremble in fear.
Zhan Beiye, who was suspected by his own brother and wanted to kill him. He was close to the Black Wind Cavalry and treated Fu Yao like brothers. He became stronger and stronger when he met strong people.
When his Imperial Concubine Mother plucked his stubble, he moved his head over, as if the blood that seeped out did not exist.
Before he killed someone, he didn't forget to tie his mother's eyes with a piece of cloth. Even when he was in danger, he still hugged his mother tightly and refused to let go.
How did he grow into such a brilliant man in the depths of the palace, surrounded by tigers and wolves?
How strong and magnanimous must he be to be able to say to those dark times, "It's all over."
These people, they were destined to meet in the mortal world. They were destined to collide with each other, cutting through the filthy chaotic world and bursting forth with the most dazzling light.
A new chapter would be opened by them.
In this new world, they were the kings of this world.
This was the dividing line of mourning for the martyrs.
There was a saying: Nothing is important except death. But in this world, there were many things that were more important than death. There were things that were worth people risking their lives to do.
Therefore, the secret guard that Wuji left behind in Yao City to protect Fu Yao was left with only one person. Therefore, in the tomb of the Great Hou Clan in the Chang Han Mountain Range, eight young and lively lives were left.
They knew fear and knew that they would die, but they couldn't bear to. But they didn't turn back, and they didn't regret it.
This kind of feeling, apart from kinship and love, was between benevolence and loyalty. It was close to faith.
This kind of feeling was bright, hot, and blazing. Some people would never understand it in their entire lives.
In ancient times, there was Boya who broke the zither. Today, there was Longan who wrote a poem about a hero who died for his bosom friend.
This was the dividing line of covering his face, collapsing, and falling to the ground.
Oh, I have the nerve to touch my nose.
Alright, heavens, I really don't know what I want to say. I'm just talking nonsense.
PS: Longan, I like Wuji, Fu Yao, Zong Yue, Xiao Zhan, Yun Hen, Yuan Bao, and so on. I want to show mercy and directly abuse them, but indirectly abuse me … But I know that I can't take the abuse. Ahhhhh, I'm hugging your thighs.
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