save the judge

The curtain door of the Daguang Room was tightly closed. Above the horizontal seat was a slightly higher seat, and on the side was the position of the attendant. Jingujiquan couldn't hold the chopsticks, so he had to ask the attendant to feed him.

Sounds a little shameful.

... more humiliating in practice.

Jingujiquan swallowed the porridge expressionlessly, watched Hasebe blowing on the porridge in the spoon again and again, and stared at him with almost devout eyes, a huge pressure shrouded him .

But he couldn't stop eating. Although Fu Sangshen below was eating his own food, as long as he showed any intention of refusing to eat, the others would look at him with worried eyes and put down their chopsticks. Didn't eat either.

Well, according to etiquette, if the master stops eating, the others should also put down the tableware, otherwise it will be a big faux pas, he can understand, can...understand what the hell!

Jingujiquan resisted the tingling pain in his throat again and swallowed the warm and fragrant liquid.

Then he realized something was wrong.

On his desk was a bowl of thick and fragrant rice porridge stewed with fish meat, as well as several plates of fresh vegetables and finely chopped minced meat. Not to mention very rich, but also full of color, fragrance and taste.

When he looked down, he could see other Fusangshen's food.

All in one color, a bowl of porridge, and two dishes of pickles and radishes.

Without looking carefully, he can be sure that there will be absolutely no fish or grains in that bowl of porridge.

How is this going?Honmaru financial crisis?Exploitation of labor?Does current politics still have regulations on food for mourning gods?Is it so harsh?

When he was so distracted, he couldn't control his body's natural reaction.

After a moment of trance, Jingu Jiquan didn't know where the strength came from, and pushed Hasebe's hand away with a backhand.

Hasebe was carefully handing over a spoonful of porridge when his master suddenly pushed him away and turned his head violently.

In an instant, the thoughts in Da Dao's mind jumped from whether the Lord didn't want to eat or was he full to whether the Lord hated him? !

Jingu Jiquan had just woken up and lacked strength. Of course it was not that easy to push Fu Sangshen's hand away, but in order not to hurt his master, Hasebe followed his strength and withdrew his hand, and then he had a look on his face. The sky collapsed and saw his Lord spurt out a mouthful of blood!

Yaoshou!

The Lord vomited blood!

Ahhhhhhhh what's going on!

Some dark blood was sprinkled on the ground and the wooden table, and the round red spots were smashed on the delicate wood, which was really shocking.

Although the Fusangshen were eating, they were all focused on the top. The movement of Jinguji Spring was so loud that before Hasebe could shout, Yaoken, who had the fastest reaction and fastest reaction, had already stepped on the short table in front of him. took the theme.

Jingujiquan couldn't stop coughing, his rough and hoarse voice was mixed with intermittent breath sounds, and blood-stained foam trickled down from the corner of his mouth, drawing strange lines on his overly pale face, dripping down his thin chin Slipped off and got wet on clothes.

Yaken dragged Jingongjiquan's shoulder with one hand, let him lean on himself, and at the same time wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his white coat.

The other Fusangshen gathered around, their expressions were so tense that they were almost stiff, the sound of chaotic footsteps hit the ground, and the severe coughing made Jinguji a little out of breath. Whoever handed over the white coat, covered him.

A very faint fragrance enveloped his consciousness, and Jingujiquan opened his eyes with difficulty, thinking vaguely in his heart, it's broken, is he going to die?So these fusangshen don't feel sad to die?And just waking up and dying on the spot at the banquet, isn't it too exciting?If, if only I could... take them with me...

His thoughts didn't last long, and the familiar darkness pulled him into a cold sleep.

His last thought of organizing was still on the clothes on his body.

It still wears a jacket with the body temperature of the original owner, so warm...

****

Jingujiquan has not woken up since fainting in the bar, but he has not shown any other symptoms. His complexion is pale, his breathing is steady, and he seems to be asleep.

The Golden Clan came to pick him up the next day and went back to the Pillar Tower. Kusanagi leaned against the door with a cigarette in his mouth, watching the rabbits carefully send him into the car, and then skillfully connected him with a lot of equipment, transparent The respirator covered the face of the black-haired young man, Kusanagi exhaled a mouthful of lavender smoke, and when the smoke cleared, the car door was already closed.

Kusanagi flicked the soot, the gray and white fine particles fell apart in the air, fluttering to the ground, the blond bar owner stuffed the cigarette butt into his mouth again, turned around and looked at the man sitting in front of the bar with his back to him, and smiled one time.

"Your Majesty, you're obviously very concerned about it, so why don't you come out and give it away?"

The red-haired man in front of the bar, who was so hot in winter and kept his coat open, snorted, but didn't refute Kusanagi's words. It took a long time before he said in a low voice, "...you can go and see."

You can go to the hospital to visit, where there is a need to send.

Kusanagi Izumo frowned and thought for a while, and unexpectedly found that it did make sense.

"I'm just surprised, even though I'm so seriously ill, I still act like nothing happened..."

This time, Zhou Fangzun didn't pause in his answer: "It's better to die while drinking and smoking than lying on the bed like a piece of rotten meat."

Kusanagi Izumo tilted his head, sighed deeply, went back behind the bar, and added some cold whiskey to Zhou Fangzun's empty glass: "I really feel the same way, sir?"

This time, Zhou Fangzun did not answer.

He looked at the light honey-colored liquid swirling in the glass, his golden pupils were lazily hidden behind half-drooped eyelids, and he stretched out a finger to drag across the ashtray.

Jingujiquan, who was sent to the intensive care unit of Yuzhu Tower, is under the care of a large group of medical staff.

The young man's face on the hospital bed was pale, his lips were so pale that there was no blood at all, he looked very quiet lying there, and he was so thin that he could see the graceful bones under the flesh.

Standing by the hospital bed, Hidekiri leaned over to look at the human with closed eyes on the bed, with a consistent smile on his mouth.

His figure was a little light, so light that it was so transparent that the medical staff didn't seem to see that there was another person here, and they went straight through his body.

The blond young man with a white military uniform jacket on his shoulders stepped back a little, moved away from the position in front of the bed, and tilted his head to stare at the person on the hospital bed.

"Patriarch, what's going on here? It looks very interesting..." The young man talking to himself didn't want to get an answer at all, so he laughed.

"I met such an interesting master as soon as I revealed myself. It would be great if my younger brother... um... my younger brother was also there." There was a suspicious pause in his words, and then he jumped over as if nothing had happened.

At the banquet that day, the god judge suddenly vomited blood and fainted. In the chaos, Mustache handed over his coat casually, and then...

Then it spun around for a while, and then I opened my eyes and came here.

The person on the hospital bed had a familiar face, but this was definitely not Honmaru or Shizheng.

And...Higakiri glanced at the researcher who passed through him again, lowered his head and stretched out his hand, lightly clenched his fist, and then let go.

The main body knife at the waist is still there, and if you use it, you can see the sharp and bright light, and it seems that you can still easily cut off the ghost.

But that's just possible.

Hidekiri flipped his wrist and slashed the knife towards the table beside him. The blade carried the momentum of thunder, and the momentary icy sharpness made the completely unconscious researchers feel their hairs stand up, and they couldn't help but stop their movements and look up.

But the blade was like an illusory shadow, cutting straight into the table and reappearing in its entirety.

Mustache put the blade close to the judge on the bed, hovering a few inches above his neck, his amber cat eyes were bent, careless and innocent and gentle.

"...It's useless...the sword loses its own value, it sounds really scary."

He bent down and approached the sleeping person on the bed.

That kind of intimacy is too much, like a pair of intimate lovers whispering, both of them are so handsome that they are not like real people, mustache kneeling on the bed with one leg, with a slender waist drawn out, and a fair face Pressing against another person's cheek, both restrained and affectionate, if you ignore the sharp blade in his hand that is pressed against that person's neck, it is really a sensual scene.

"Patriarch...will you break me?" He asked casually, as if it was just a simple joke.

Then, a bluish-white finger lightly touched the sharp edge of the knife, and slowly pushed the knife away a little in the suddenly wide-open eyes of the mustache, and a low sick voice sounded intermittently: " You... what is this... ghostly idea..."