Suo Jinling

Chen Jing ran all the way in front, Hongye followed closely behind, and the two hurried to the imperial city. They wanted to arrive at the Qin Tianjian within three days, but unexpectedly encountered a severe drought on the way, and the homeless victims dragged their homes They gathered around with their mouths, all of them were yellow and thin, holding the children who were waiting to be fed in their arms. Those children had huge heads, thin hands and feet, thin skin and flesh wrapped in bones, like cubs that had been drained of flesh and blood, huddled in the arms of their parents and sobbed. .

In the past few years, Chen Jing often went to the disaster relief to distribute money and food. Many of the victims still remembered him, and rushed forward one after another, kneeling down and begging him to find the Celestial Supervisor to rain on the crops.

Chen Jing couldn't comfort him, and only said that he would try his best to convey it on his behalf. He knew that the fairy officials might be powerless. Based on his understanding of the fairy officials, as long as he could stand up, he would not shirk from praying to the sky.

The wandering people scattered here and there were no one to regroup, and they ran wildly in the wilderness of Cangshan Mountain. Chen Jing couldn't get away for a while, so he stayed where he was and organized them. After walking for a day and a night, he dug the ground in the forest to dig water.

This long road is full of famine victims, and they ran forward through two cities, facing the torrential rain, like speeding arrows, watering them immobile, and had to enter the ruined temple to avoid the rain. It has been in disrepair for a long time, and weeds are overgrown inside and outside. The strong sour smell comes from under the withered grass. The outer shirt is stuck to the body, and the sticky person can't move. It is untied and hung on the beam. smashed into a ball.

The cold dampness came from outside, Chen Jing sat on the threshold, just wrung out his coat, the leaves of grass creaked, a round-headed child stood by the door, holding a tattered basket in his hand, panicked look at them.

"Where's the dry food in your pocket?" Chen Jing said, "Bring some."

Hong Ye hurriedly untied his pocket and handed over a few pancakes. The child watched eagerly, then took two steps forward unconsciously, and carefully stopped in place, not daring to move any more.

"Come here," Chen Jing said, "These are all yours."

The child looked and looked, his throat rolled a few times, unable to endure the hunger, he trotted over and snatched the dry biscuits, squatted by the door, gobbled it up, his lips were stuffed, his back shrunk into a small ball, and his whole body trembled. Sieve the chaff, and the cake dregs are scattered everywhere.

"Eat slowly," Chen Jing said, "No one will compete with you."

I don't know if the child listened to it, swallowing was not as tense as before, he relaxed after eating, wrapped himself up by the door and slept in a ball, Hong Ye got Chen Jing's instructions, stepped forward to wrap the child in a coat, Carry into the temple to rest.

The water under the eaves was swaying, and the round water droplets fell to the ground, making a crackling sound. Chen Jing stood by the door and stood quietly until midnight. Winding between the stone crevices, the grass blades washed by the rain have washed away the dust, and they are green and green, like amber that has been passed down for thousands of years, revealing a faint brilliance.

This radiance was as cold as the dawn of heaven and earth, stung his eyes in a trance, Chen Jing stared at it, and felt that the grass leaves were blurred, like a tulle, melting into the dust.

"General," Hong Ye said, "It's late at night, and we have to go on the road tomorrow, so let's rest early."

Chen Jing acted as if he had never heard of it, his eyes were empty and scattered, like flowing and scattered clouds. He didn't come back to his senses until Hongye said it twice: "All living beings are no different from ants, how can we overcome the sky?"

Hongye was startled, and didn't know how to reply: "Return to the general... the subordinates are incompetent, dare not go against the will of heaven, and go against the sky."

"How is it against the will of God, how is it to go against the will of the heavens, why did the will of the heavens come into existence, and why did it die," Chen Jing said, "Why...it always fails to fulfill people's wishes."

The only answer to him was the wind and rain, and the fallen leaves were swept up by the gust of wind and drifted away into the distance.

"Where is it buried?"

Hong Ye stared at the general's back, lowered his head silently, his shoulders drooped, his arms seemed to be tied by heavy objects, and they were pulled into two thin pieces, hanging tremblingly in the air.

"If you go back to the general, you'll be buried...in Taihang," Hong Ye said, "Goshawk will come to pick up the soul and help him enter reincarnation early."

Chen Jing remained silent, looking up at the sky, there was a skylight hidden behind the thick dark clouds, it was like a sharp knife, cutting through the clouds and falling down, falling straight into the river, cutting off the sparkling light.

Silent all night.

The next day, Hongye searched around the city, sent the child back to his parents, and went to the embankment with Chen Jing. The dragon surged towards the dam, the thick clouds were wrapped in wind and rain, and the sun was blocked out by the sky. Scattered all over the sky.

The figure was as small as sand, and was swept up by the wind and waves, and was swallowed by the flowing clouds, and suddenly disappeared.

Chen Jing stood by the river for a long time, his clothes were tossed by the wind and waves, the sound of the rain fell wildly, stinging the corners of his eyes and eyebrows, a large stream of water soaked his forehead and hair, and fell in strands from his neck, like continuous tears, soaking most of the water clothes.

The wind and rain gradually subsided, Chen Jing and Hongye got on their horses, raised their whips and rushed towards the imperial city. In the name of disaster relief, he asked for an official talisman, went to the foot of Qin Tianjian by himself, climbed to the top of the tower step by step in the dark, and looked inward along the window lattice.

Qin Tianjian is still like a tomb, empty and devoid of human life, the couch is wrapped with a thin layer of bedding, a bony arm sticks out from underneath, that hand is horrific, the skin is wrapped in bones, and the armor is dull There is no light, it looks like a hand that doesn't look like a living person.

Chen Jing's throat rolled slightly, and he slid into it with his arms propped up. Standing on the edge of the collapse, he raised his hand and pulled away the quilt.

He hardly knew the people below.

He still remembers the appearance of the fairy officials when they performed rituals, with long robes and wide sleeves fluttering in the wind, slender eyebrows and eyes raised slightly, blue eyes like lakes in the forest, Yingcui is not in the mortal world.

The fairy official in front of him looks haggard, as if a bone would be crushed when he was pinched, his disheveled blond hair faded, scattered randomly on his face, thin and tattered, covering his body at will, and a few blood-stained silks fell down and rolled down. unknown.

Chen Jing held his breath, and lifted the forehead hair from the fairy official's face, revealing his pale face, like a piece of withered bark, collapsed on the stake.

He took two steps back abruptly, hit his back against the wall, and fell into a trance with a bang.

The faces in front of my eyes spun into groups, one was a handsome young man riding a white wolf, the other was a ghost-faced Asura half-stained with blood, the other was a handsome figure in the glacier, and the other was a face covered in thick snow on the city wall ······

The world was spinning in front of his eyes, the sound of the wind was buzzing, rustling in his ears, Chen Jing covered his forehead, his eyes flickered, like a raging flame, burning his body into ashes.

"The little general... is here," Xianguan tilted his head and raised the corners of his lips with difficulty, "Finally... one side."

The spirit of the immortal official is like a thread, like an old man on the verge of death. He seems to have exhausted all the blood in his body. His originally unrestrained gaze was covered by the haze, sinking into a pool of stagnant water, which cannot be disturbed no matter what.

"Bring the wine..." Immortal Officer propped up his dangling arm, pointing to the jug in the corner, "I want...to drink."

Chen Jing followed his gaze, and saw that there were several wine jugs lying in the corner, and the wine liquid spilled out, and the strands floated into his nose.

If an ordinary person wants to drink at the end of his life, the people around him will never agree, but Chen Jing walked to the corner according to his words, picked up the jug and walked to the side of the fairy official, raised his hand to help him up, and fed him a few sips.

The fairy official's Adam's apple rolled, as if he drank fine nectar and jade dew, his blush diffused, he hissed and chuckled, his cheeks were flushed when he laughed, his neck was shaking, and he was so happy.

The last drop of wine was scattered, and the immortal official, who did not know where the strength came from, pushed the wine cup away, propped up his body from the collapsed side, scrambled and moved towards the window lattice, fell to the ground with his head up, and looked at the vast night sky.

Xingzi hid behind the clouds, reflecting the moonlight. He tilted his head and watched quietly. The moonlight flowed in, blocking most of his body, and the long shadow diffused on the ground, engulfing him.

Chen Jing didn't want to look again, but his eyes seemed to be sucked in, and he stared at the fairy official. His face gradually changed, turning into a slender and haggard figure. That person once fell on the city wall, with his arms bent on his chest, his eyes wide open. The light in the pupils scattered, and the eyelids could not close together, as if waiting for someone, waiting for someone who would not look back.

Waiting for someone who can't save him.

Chen Jing covered his forehead, tensed his shoulders, buried his forehead with five fingers, tightened inward, his cheeks were scratched with bruises, and his skin and flesh collapsed to the point of pain.

After an unknown amount of time, he let go of his fingers and walked to the fairy official: "Where is the grass that kills the heart?"