Dressed as the apex pet of a cold master

The scene in front of him was indistinct, as if it had been blurred in Jing Fan's vision after a while.

Like a broken maple leaf, he silently fell into the icy snow water beneath him, his withered wrists trembling and thrusting onto his chest, his eyes wide open, as if he couldn't understand why his desolate and mutilated body could still flow out so much. More gurgling warm blood.

Jing Fan curled up on the ground, opened and closed his mouth slightly, but couldn't utter a single syllable, and his vocal cords moved slightly, like sharp knives being cut.

He has not had a drop of water or a bite of food for several days in a row. Beggars like him used to starve to death on the side of the road, but he survived for some reason.

Sometimes he feels that he is a little mayfly in the vast ocean, ignorant of the ups and downs as winter goes to spring, not knowing why he was born and why he died, and it doesn't matter when this life will be reaped.

However, even if you are born with unclear life, you should seek clarity when you die, right?

Jing Fan raised his head vigorously, blinked his eyes, trying to see the man in front of him clearly.

He really couldn't figure out why an ant like him would cause such a disaster.

The red silk satin slowly twisted, and the man squatted down in front of him, even though he couldn't see his appearance clearly because of the pain, he could vaguely feel a faint smile on his face.

"I guess you're weird right now and don't understand why I hurt you, do you?"

He put the beautiful and exquisite astrolabe in front of the young man, a red light flowed at his fingertips, and the seven pointers on the astrolabe turned towards Jing Fan's heart.

"Look, this is God's will. It is guiding me. The tablet of the Fahua that descended from the Tianyin Stone is on your body."

Jingfan's eardrums were ripped apart by tinnitus, and he shook the ∫⊥ penalty slowly as if he wanted to express something.

The Fahua Stele, people on the street have been discussing this thing in recent days, but what does it have to do with him.

"I know you don't believe it, but the guidance of the astrolabe will never go wrong, after all..." The man smiled contemptuously and said coldly, "I am also very surprised that the law of heaven will descend on a dirty child .”

"As for what the fahua inscription is, you don't need to know, once I take the inscription out of your body, your value will come to an end!

Jing Fan understood this sentence.He should be the container for that important inscription.

Before he could think clearly, the man's slender hands wrapped around his back, pulled out the dagger fiercely, and then cut a long bloody gash in his skinny chest.

"what--"

Jing Fan's throat made a painful and hoarse sound, and there seemed to be a mass of quenching 』hum on his chest, which was scalding on the flesh.

Perhaps it was extremely difficult to take out the thing, the man was holding the dagger, and scratched his chest. Before that, Fan Fan could still count clearly, but in the end he didn't realize that his chest was cut into a chimney.

Jing Fan was dripping with cold sweat, his arms were twitching, trying to stay away from the dangerous man in front of him.

"It's not over yet."

The man grabbed him coldly, squeezed out a fiery red light, and poured it into Jingfan's wound.

In just that moment, Jing Fan seemed to be drained of all vitality from his body by him. His consciousness dissipated, his physical strength drained, and he couldn't even shed tears.

He watched helplessly as a fragment glowing with silver burst out of his chest and flew into the palm of the man.

It turns out that that thing is the Fahua stele that everyone has been looking for... Why did fate have to fall on him?

Jing Fan couldn't figure it out, but saw that after the stele condensing the light of the Dharma was taken away, his body was like a faint firefly that would never go out.Cold, hunger, pain, weakness, and sudden surges made him unable to use half of his strength.

It turns out that my life has been hanging by that piece all along, no wonder, no wonder.

Jing Fan coughed up two mouthfuls of blood, and suddenly felt relieved.He should have died early, a grain of millet born into the world by mistake, should also be erased by mistake.

The man casually threw the dagger on the ground, and said cheerfully: "You are a hard-fated man, and you still haven't died yet. For the sake of my wish, I will spare your humble life."

"It's also me who thinks left. Dust and mud like you are not worthy to replace my brother as the master of the Eastern Region."

"It's ridiculous to talk about the savior who saves the common people in the world. How can He De, a young child, conquer our Qingxu Sect?"

After finishing speaking, the man patted the blood on his hands, quickly left the dilapidated temple, and walked away.

In the vast snow field, only the dying Jing Fan remained.

Snow fell from the sky again, with distinct petals, fluttering, and falling with a cool feeling.The blood snaked its way through the ice layer, extending straight out.

Jing Fan followed the bloodstain with blurred vision, and suddenly wanted to see the river bank on the outskirts of the city.

This idea is quite strange, because since he was conscious, he has never had such a strong desire. Whether it is to eat those leftovers that are left to be discarded, or to drink cold water, he has never had such a strong desire. That's it.

In fact, there is nothing to see on the banks of the river in the outskirts of the city. It is nothing more than willow branches covered with snow and thin ice covering the river. There is only a somewhat desolate scene.

But this old temple is quite close to the city river, even if you climb out before you die, you can take a look from a distance.

Thinking of this, Jing Fan put all his strength into the soft snow, firmly grasped the withered grass that had not grown new roots, and dragged his body to move outward a little bit.

The piercing pain spread to all his limbs, he didn't care, and moved slowly, vowing to see the last scene he hoped for before he died.

The cold wind howled, and the snow on the ground was blown into the air again, making it even colder.

Jing Fan leaned against the temple gate, and rolled out heavily from the threshold. The back of his head hit a broken and raised bluestone slab, and his internal organs could no longer function as if they had been stricken.

Breathing gradually weakened, he dismissed it

That's all, it's good to die like this.

In this life, there is no father, no mother, no friends and no teachers. After death, everything will be empty, and the bones will be destroyed by spring mud.

Terrific.

He is like a wounded and dying animal, carefully feeling the loss of life, his eyes retracted from the front, half closed.

In the dimness, there was a sound of footsteps on the bank of the river running towards him from far and near.

...could it be the executioner who went and came back?

Jing Fan was thinking vaguely, and suddenly a white dress with a warm fragrance floated in front of his eyes, and a young man bent down in front of him, picked him up carefully, and put him in his arms, his movements were extremely gentle, like It was because he was afraid of disturbing him, and it seemed that he was treating the most beloved treasure in his heart.

This person's embrace was as cold as snow, but the tears that fell on his forehead, drop by drop, carried a scorching temperature.

This is the only warm feeling that Jing Fan has ever experienced in his life, except for the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

But he didn't know this person. To be precise, he didn't know anyone in this world.

Jing Fan opened his eyes vigorously, trying to see the person above his head clearly, and what he saw was the person's beautiful and smooth jaw line, and his plump and beautiful crimson lips.

"Sorry I'm late!

Although there was a hint of crying in the voice, it was not difficult to hear that it was pleasant.

But the two of them meet by chance, why is the other party so, so sad?

Jing Fan fell into a deep sleep, and the last thing he saw in his eyes was the lotus drawn with silver thread on the sleeve of the man's clothes.

That lotus flower was extraordinarily fresh in the snowy sky, and in his memory, it seemed as if it was about to fly out.

It can't be touched, can't be held, it is tightly squeezed in the hand, and it turns into fine snow powder, disappearing under the sun.

The author has something to say: Brothers, the word count has been updated this week~ Continue in two days -3-

Thanks to the reader, cute, "Driving is a must!" The nutrient solution for irrigation (づ￣3￣)づ