I picked up a boyfriend in the infinite game

The priest probably saw clearly what Song Guicheng did, because he was stunned for a moment, and then the smile in his eyes became even wider, as if he was tolerating an ignorant child.

Song Guicheng's breathing stagnated slightly and he looked away with difficulty.

This smile brought back many bad memories for him.

He had resisted hysterically and escaped before. Every time he was caught, Song Yujie would smile at him, hug him tightly, and say in a low and soft voice: "My dear little canary, how could you fly out of my cage? No matter where you fly, I will find you."

No matter where you fly, I will find you... The nightmarish tone seemed to be ringing in his ears, and Song Yujie really did it. When Song Guicheng thought he had escaped, he suddenly appeared in front of him and gave him the most fatal blow.

There were no windows in the confessional, only a thin sliver of light coming in through the crack in the door.

Song Guicheng squatted against the wall with his hands covering his face. The dark shadow covered most of his body. The broken hair pricked into his eyes, bringing a stinging pain. His nose felt a little sour, and a faint bitter despair surged in his heart.

He thought that if he left the real world and embraced God, all the pain and sorrow of the past would slowly fade away like glaciers melted by the sun.

But he forgot that those times were watered with his entire life, grew in his heart, and were deeply rooted. Once they were pulled out, the heart would be torn apart along with them.

The hostess's wailing outside the door continued, sharp and piercing, but Song Guicheng could no longer hear it. A smile brought back many dark memories for him.

He suddenly realized that he had never gotten out of the haze of the past.

His body had been trapped in Song Yujie's cage for too long, and over time, he also put a layer of shackles on his heart.

Every time he tried to break free, his heart would recall the slippery and sticky touch, the decadent and dark room before his body... The excruciating pain that made his blood boil and burn due to nausea would instantly resurface from his memory and burn him completely.

Song Guicheng bit his wrist, biting the skin and flesh, and held the cold jade bead tightly in his mouth until blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Thick blood hung on his fair and graceful chin, like cracks on an exquisite jade ware, with a beauty that seemed to break at the slightest touch.

Tick-tick, the blood flowed more and more like a broken pearl necklace, warm and hot, even wrapping the cold black jade beads with his body temperature.

"What should I do? I can't get better, I can't get better..." Song Guicheng's fingertips trembled slightly, he bit his arm, and whispered incoherently. There was confusion and helplessness in his tone, but more of it was a kind of self-mockery.

He asked himself, did he really not know what to do? He knew. In fact, the key was in his own hand, but he had failed too many times and no longer dared to try easily.

Neither the copies nor the ghosts could destroy Song Guicheng. The only reason for his collapse was the despair that accumulated in his heart.

His biggest enemy has always been himself.

Song Guicheng buried his head in his knees. The sound of the heavy rain outside the window turned into the sound of his own crying and begging when he was young. The sound was like thread and silk, weaving into a fine net, surrounding him layer by layer, leaving him nowhere to escape.

He didn't know that his sanity value was plummeting like a waterfall pouring down from a mountain, gradually falling to the bottom of the valley.

But he saw it, he saw the shadow lurking in the corner, he saw the snowflakes of time swirling down, they were competing to drown him, to pull him into the endless abyss.

But he didn't want to resist anymore. The bird in the cage could no longer fly. The rain wet its feathers and the wind broke its wings. He wailed almost crying blood.

The bird in the cage can no longer fly.

The priest outside the confessional listened to the hostess's sad wails, but the smile in his eyes gradually deepened. He lightly twisted his fingertips, as if he was just brushing away a speck of dust.

Song Guicheng felt that his soul was gradually becoming very light, as light as a cloud, floating out of his body. He wanted to catch himself, but the wind passed through his fingers like quicksand passing through his palm, and he didn't catch anything.

Even the audience in the live broadcast room could see that something was wrong with him:

[Host, wake up! My friend and I made a bet that you can definitely pass this dungeon! ! ]

[This dungeon is originally a C-level dungeon that focuses on mental attacks, but the level has jumped to A-level, and the difficulty has been doubled. It is extremely unfriendly to anchors who are delicate and emotional! ]

[Just now Zheng Jiyan asked you to leave but you refused. Now you are going to die.]

[Oh my god, I don’t dare to watch it anymore. Brothers, I’m going to quit first]

【What this story tells us is that we should stop when it is time to stop. 】

[Crazy screenshots, will I be able to meet such a good-looking anchor in the future? Xiao Chengzi, how can I live without you? Xiao Chengzi, will you still be alive when I see you again? ]

……

Song Guicheng's soul was burning coldly in the lonely rainy day. Fate pushed him to the edge of the cliff. Just as he was about to forget, a strange bird flapped its wings and pecked at the wound in his memory.

His thoughts struggled between clarity and pain. Time slowed down, and the scenes of life kept shuttling back and forth. Among the overlapping shadows, he saw his infatuated mother crying with her face covered, his indifferent father driving him away with disgust, and his sanctimonious brother pretending to care for him...

The scene finally freezes on the hug between him and Wu Zhi in the solemn church.

Wu Zhi's body temperature is very low, like the snow-capped mountains that never melt all year round; Wu Zhi's body smells very cold, like the breeze and the night dew, which is hard to grasp and unpredictable; Wu Zhi's eyes are ruthless and desireless, as if he would never lower his gaze to anyone.

He had received a hug, he was satisfied, he already had it. In fact, Song Guicheng was never greedy, and he had no room for greed.

Happiness is as short-lived as a bubble and more fragile than the thin ice in early winter, but that is enough.

"Wu Zhi..."

"Wu Zhi..."

"Wu Zhi..."

Song Guicheng wanted to say something, but in the end he just called out this name, his voice gradually weakening. When he bid farewell to his life with despair and happiness, he only wanted to call out this name.

Wu Zhi, thank you and I'm sorry. My life has countless heartbreaks and tears, and even with your presence, it can't fill my world. So please forgive my weakness and let me escape into my dreams.

White spots of light floated in front of his eyes, like stars in the sky, like traces of gods creating fog. After a moment, Song Guicheng realized that this was his gradually dissipating soul.

He was stunned for a moment. It turned out that the human soul is not blue.

Song Guicheng's body became lighter and lighter, but his soul continued to sink, as if he was being engulfed by a quagmire. He vaguely heard a familiar voice, "My little bird in the cage, where do you want to fly to?"

No, no! Song Guicheng regained consciousness for a moment, and his soul shook violently, causing ripples. He didn't want to go back to the past, even if he died like this. He didn't want to go back to the past.

No one responded to him at all. His soul became heavier and heavier, as if being pulled by every thread towards one place, suppressing him to the point where even the light spots dimmed.

The jade beads on the wrist suddenly broke, unexpectedly, and shattered into powder, disappearing into the air along with the light spots.

"Zheng——" Song Guicheng clearly heard the sound of something breaking, which was deafening and hoarse.

Then, a pair of cold hands held his waist and lifted him up from the dull quagmire.

A hint of the scent of the night dew diffused in the air, forcefully filling Song Guicheng's entire body.

His soul gradually floated higher and higher, away from the past that was like a maggot on the tarsal bone, away from the burning like a raging fire, and floated to a place where pain could no longer catch up.

Witch stop?

The only thing that appeared in Song Guicheng's mind was that pair of eyes that showed neither sadness nor joy. He struggled to open his eyes, but his dilated pupils could only reflect a blurry shadow.

The shadow stood still in the white fluorescence, his robe moving without wind, and the crimson embroidery on the clothes looked like pooled blood under the fluorescence.

Wu Zhi put one hand on his eyes and used the other hand to catch Song Guicheng's scattered soul and put them back in place bit by bit.

The sudden darkness made Song Guicheng struggle subconsciously.

"Don't move." Wu Zhi's tone was a little harsh, but he inexplicably heard a bit of tenderness in it, and he immediately shrank back obediently and stayed where he was.

He didn't know that every time he moved, white spots of light flew out of his body, and his soul disintegrated much faster than Wu Zhi could repair it.

Wu Zhi frowned, seeming impatient, and bit his finger directly. Blood flowed out from the fingertips, but did not slide down. Instead, it stopped in mid-air like a small drop of water.

Wu Zhi stretched out his hand and gently pinched it. The blood beads immediately exploded and turned into blood mist. Then they magically connected to each other to form an airtight net, trapping all the white spots in the air.

Song Guicheng didn't know what Wu Zhi was doing, but he could feel a sense of fullness in his body, and he instantly guessed what Wu Zhi was doing.

"Am I not already dead?" he asked weakly.

Wu Zhi's tone was indifferent: "You are not dead, but someone is planning to take your soul." He did not stop the movement of his hands, but sneered imperceptibly, "If they could bypass me and attack you directly..." Before he finished speaking, Song Guicheng felt a hint of chilliness.

On the other side of the confessional, the moment the puppet string broke, the priest was hit back and spat out a mouthful of blood without warning.

The crying hostess was frightened by the sudden incident. Her mouth was open and she even forgot to cry. Then she heard the priest laugh twice, and then he stretched out his pale red tongue to lick the blood on his lips.

A bit of scarlet on the tip of his tongue was rolled into his mouth, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, seemingly gentle, but actually like the edge of a sharp blade.

The pair of emerald green eyes looked at her, and the smile in them seemed like an undercurrent surging under the ice, wrapped in a heart-pounding coldness. The priest opened his mouth and spat out one word: "Get lost."

The hostess shuddered, not daring to stay for a moment, picked up the umbrella by the wall and ran away quickly.

The church suddenly became quiet, and the only sound was the dull sound of raindrops hitting the windows.

The priest turned his head to look at the dark brown window frames and the glass that was blurred by the rain, dividing the scenery outside the window evenly.

He held his chin and tapped the chair with his fingertips. The dim light from the sky shone on half of his stern face, making his expression even more gloomy. "My little bird in the cage, where do you want to fly to?"