Q coffin GL

Ah Luo said she didn't have any other spells, but Ah Yin thought she did.

For example, she must have mastered the dream technique.

A Yin opened her eyes and woke up in the dark night as quiet as a coffin. The smell of old wood from the carved bed was on her nose. The boxy container was so familiar that she trapped her sweet dreams in it and sealed it with long nails. prison, and then buried in the ground, to become a dead secret.

Missing is something that can't be controlled, and it is also the most aggressive face. As long as you give it a crack in the door, it will drag the family in and live in it, just like the owner.

At first, Ah Yin pretended to chase it away, but after a long time, she couldn't bear to resist, so Ah Luo often appeared in her dreams.

She got up from the bed, opened the door boredly, and looked at the empty corridor in a daze. She remembered a girl who stood weakly in the floating moonlight, raised her head and said to her: Close the windows tightly, and cover the quilt tightly.

Her hair was so fine that it lay like smooth satin on the pillow.

Ayin stroked her fingertips a few times, and suddenly sighed.

Ayin understands very well that many people and things have no beginning and no end, but people usually don't ask for an explanation. Once you think that a story needs to have an ending, it means that it is very important.

And the ending is not to make people give up, but to weigh the weight of unwillingness.

Ah Luo's departure is the scale on which Ayin is weighed. The weight sinks A Yin's worries and avoidance, and the scale picks up her love. The scale is the day when she disappeared. The longer the day, the deeper the scratch.

She closed the door and came out, knocking on Wuqian's door dutifully.

Wuqian was sleepy, his brows were wrinkled like earthworms that had just been dug out of the ground, but there was no temper in his words: "What's the matter?"

Ayin pursed her lips coquettishly: "Playing cards?" She had no way of disturbing Li Shishi and Song Shijiu, only this ghost was alone like her.

Wu Qian turned to look at the Western clock on the wall, then turned back: "Yin time."

At three o'clock in the morning, Wuqian habitually converts it into twelve o'clock.

A Yin scratched his neck, picked out the faint red marks, said "That's all", and turned his head to go back.

Wu Qian thought for a while, but said: "Since you are here, take the letter away."

"A letter?" Ayin raised her eyebrows and leaned against the wall.

Wuqian turned around, took out a few pieces of shredded paper from the desk drawer, and walked over holding it in his hands. Ayin squinted his eyes, and when he saw it clearly, his heart suddenly felt violently violent.

Her snow-white chest twitched, and her heels retreated, almost wanting to run away.

But she only licked her dry lips, shifted her eyes from the familiar paper to Wu Qian's face, and asked him in a hoarse voice, "What do you want me to do?"

What did she do for me when she tore things up?

Wuqian stretched out his arm and handed it to her: "My lord left, but he didn't take it away. Your things must be returned to their original owners."

Her heart shrank, as if kicked by a rabbit, A Yin didn't reach out, but just looked at him with leisurely eyes: "My things?"

Wu Qian cleared his throat: "The sky is not old, love..."

"Stop," Ah Yin stretched out his hand to stop, remembering Ah Luo's dejected appearance, couldn't help stabbing, "I heard it, it's so hypocritical."

Wuqian tilted his head, frowned and frowned at her: "You still write hypocritically?"

"Me?" A Yin blinked her eyes twice, the premonition in her heart made her not very confident in objecting, she raised her hand to cover her chin.

Wu Qian stuffed the letter into her other hand, and supported the door frame so sleepy that she wanted to go to bed immediately: "You used to write to adults, a love letter."

He bit the accent on the last two words, and tapped lightly on the wooden door with his curled fingers.

A Yin opened his mouth, and the word "uncle" twisted and twisted, and stopped at the jawline, swearing or not.She took a deep breath, and then she understood: "Fu, Fu Wuyin..."

The crime?

Wuqian looked at her with the eyes of a heartless man.

Ayin gasped, and covered her lips with her five fingers stuck to her chin.

"There is also a letter of appointment." Wuqian remained expressionless.

Ayin's eyelashes trembled like a summer fan, and she managed to control it with great difficulty. She lifted her chin and released her bitten lower lip, rubbed her face and touched her ears.Wu Qian glanced at her, closed the door and went back to the room.

Sweating in the palm of his hand, he rubbed it on some old paper. Ayin took the letter with the other hand, rubbing the rough edge of the crack with the pad of his thumb, as if his chest had been torn open. The pain also has vitality.

She looked down for a while, then stretched her neck, bumped the back of her head lightly against the cold wall, then walked to the stairs and sat down, and began spelling letters under the moonlight.

Disorganized fragments, and disorganized thoughts, she picked up the skirt twice, and then stopped fighting, holding her chin with her hand in a daze.

She had never wanted to cry so much.

When the master passed away, she told herself not to cry, and she didn't drop a single bean. When she questioned Li Shishi, she said it was time to cry, and the tears couldn't be stopped.

But it was different at this moment, she let the desire to cry grow bigger than the sky, but she only opened her eyes, looking at the dark stairs in confusion.

Carrying Ah Luo's torn letter, she remembered that Jiujiu said that longevity is punishment.Maybe she was wrong at the beginning, she and A Luo have no distinction, and it is not a unilateral charity, maybe, just like A Luo redeemed himself, A Luo also needs her very much.

She is needed to be a living thought in a long and boring life, to explain the meaning of time and waiting.

This needed sense of existence made Ayin's dying heart swell up, filling the lonely night with bang bang bang bang.

The rain and the sun love to compete for wind and jealousy in the mountain city, and the dark clouds will tear away the sun, and the light rain will fall down without giving an inch.It is most comfortable to stay in the house on a rainy day. The incense burner is lit in the study room. Although it is not as warm as the charcoal basin, it dispels some shade.

The silhouettes of the two girls intertwined were projected on the window sills. The taller one sat on the grand teacher's chair behind the desk, raised his eyes from a stack of rice paper, and asked softly, "Is this the last sentence of the Puppet Art?" ?”

Her eyebrows and eyes seemed to have passed through the rain, it was cold, clear and clean.

Song Nineteen faced her, sat on the table with both hands, turned his head to take a closer look, and then hooked his head to look at her: "Isn't it?"

Li Shishi glanced at her, picked up a pen to delete and correct two words.

Song Nineteen's eyes wandered along with the movement of her pen, and there was a soft "oh" at the end.

Li Shishi put down his pen, lowered his eyelids, and looked at her dangling calf in mid-air. The toe of the shoe was only half hooked, and the pale white heel slipped out lazily. tap.

Li Shiyi reached out with his right hand, held the back of the heel, pushed it up slightly, put the shoe on for her, rested his fingers on her ankle, and raised his clear eyes: "Who taught you to wear it like this?" shoes?"

Song Nineteen was very honest: "A Yin."

Li Shishi looked at her for two seconds before moving his face away. When he withdrew his hand, he accidentally hooked the dimple on Gou Song Shijiu's knee with his fingertips, and then flipped through a book as if nothing had happened.

Song Nineteen bit his lower lip, touched his numb knees, and then rubbed them with unsatisfactory satisfaction.

As the saying goes, when you are free, you don't know right and wrong, just when A Yin was mentioned, the delicate aunt pushed the door open.Seeing the posture of Song Nineteen and Li Shiyi sitting opposite each other, Ah Yin was a little taken aback, but she didn't take it seriously. She just walked straight to the table, raised her hands, and leaned over without even saying a word of greeting. He spoke to Li Shishi.

"Eleven, tell me, what is the biggest advantage of being a person like me?"

Li Shiyi frowned and looked at Song Nineteen.

"Pretty." Ayin came to a conclusion by herself.

Song Nineteen blinked twice.

"You said again," Ayin narrowed her eyes, "what is my biggest weakness?"

Li Shishi didn't open his lips, but tilted his head to wait for her to speak.

"Duplicity."

Song Nineteen raised his chin.

Ayin chuckled, and looked at Li Shishi across the wide table: "Tell me again, what is my biggest weakness?"

This time she didn't pause, and continued in a flash: "It's selfish."

"If I've seen a good one, I can say no to it, but I always want to hold on to it firmly in my heart."

She stopped and looked straight at Li Shishi. The two arrogant eyebrows on the peach blossom eyes drooped meekly at this moment, as if being hit by the wind, sick and timid.

Li Shishi's shoulders sank, his spine leaned back in the chair, he pursed his lips and looked at her for two seconds, then shook his head and smiled softly.

She said, "Understood."

After Yu Bi raised his right eyebrow at Song Nineteen, he got up and left.

In the hall downstairs, Wuqian was still flipping through a military book, when he heard clear footsteps going downstairs unhurriedly, walking up to him, the fragrance was blowing on his face, and a tall shadow fell beside him.

A jade-like hand stopped on the right side of the book, curled its index finger, and tapped lightly on the table.

He looked up and saw Li Shishi said indifferently: "Tell her to come back."

The author says:

"Partridge Sky·Painting Boats in the Eastern Time Luoshuiqing": After the west wind pours tears, the ten-night long pavilion and the nine-meng king.