Chapter 262
Words:832Update:22/06/29 07:43:18
His hair and clothes flowed down his cheeks and the hand holding the sword. The wind blew the rain, and wave after wave hit his body, surging like waves.
With great difficulty, he finally reached the end of the road, but his body was already soaked by the rain. Black hair? It stuck to his face and shoulders, and the water droplets on his long eyelashes kept rolling down like rain hitting banana leaves.
He saw a person lying in the coffin.
It was a tall man wearing a ghost mask.
The man's eyes were closed, and it looked like he had passed away many years ago.
He suddenly felt a little cold.
How could the wind and rain not be cold?
And the black coffin in front of him was the only place in the world that wasn't wet by the rain.
He saw it? See, there was still plenty of space in the coffin.
Enough for another him to lie down.
He leaned in, wanting to reach the man's hand. He caught it. He wanted to go in to take shelter from the rain.
But he suddenly felt his clothes being tugged.
He turned around and saw a boy standing behind him, whose clothes were also soaked by the rain.
The boy's body only reached his waist, and his face was young and tender.
He had a pair of blood-red eyes.
The boy's small hands pulled at his clothes, and he looked up at him. His blood-red eyes contained his figure, but they were somewhat empty and cold.
He softly begged.
"Master, don't? Let's go, okay? "
The small hands holding his clothes tightened. White.
The boy repeated.
"I beg you, don't? Let's go, okay? "
Thunder and lightning rumbled behind him.
He suddenly woke up? Come here.
What entered his eyes was a dark and deep palace, and he could smell the strong fragrance of incense.
He slept in the soft bedding, on a pillow with the smell of medicine. His clothes seemed to have been changed, and there was no longer the sticky feeling of being soaked in blood.
His body was soft, and he couldn't feel the flow of spiritual energy. Even the restless divine fire in his body had calmed down? Come down.
He wasn't completely awake yet. Looking at the dark palace, his bright golden eyes were a little unfocused. Was he in a daze? There was a layer of mist.
It was as if the rain in his dream hadn't stopped in his eyes.
After a long time, he grabbed the bed and tried to get up.
But he suddenly heard a small rustling sound.
He instantly felt that something was wrong.
He raised his hand. Hair? Found that his wrist had been locked by a pitch-black lock, and a long chain hung down. The chain flashed with cold light.
One end of the chain reached out from the bedding, and connected to the shadow of the bed.
It wasn't just his hand.
There was also a cold touch on his ankle.
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