Seek For Three Lifetimes

volume ii. xi

the night was as cold as water, and the sound of the wind penetrated through the window ledge, and the rolled up dust attached to the bed curtain and floated up.

ji jiu on the bed opened the tent, as if he was aware, but he waited and waited, the whole house was silent, and there was no sound after the sound of the wind. the air is cold at night, the lights are dark, and this simple study room is suddenly quiet to loneliness in such an atmosphere. in the january time he had sneaked away, he should have shared it with his wife and children, but on the first day of his home, he saw the woman in his arms on the bed as his own face, as if he was watching himself being covered under him... but he couldn't even escape, gritted his teeth and hurriedly finished, before pretending to be indifferent and leaving.

from then on, the joy and joy in this ordinary man's boudoir had nothing to do with him. even if he didn't want to admit it, the influence of that demon on him could not be erased, such as the wounds of the old years, even if they healed, there would still be scars left, and they would be vicious.

ji jiu got up, put on a robe and sat on the bed, the moon entered the house, the world in front of the bed was as empty as water, and after watching for a moment, he walked out.

there was no one in the courtyard, he was wearing only his underwear, and his cloak was scattered in the courtyard, and the night wind lifted his hair, rising and falling, as if there was an invisible hand in the air, caressing reluctantly.

in this life, there were no flowers and grasses in his courtyard, and the blooming peonies, the roses that spread the courtyard walls, the bright red goose and yellow, and the beautiful scenes of the study were all gone. shen qingxuan's life, like a flower, bloomed like a flower in despair and madness for thirteen years and withered away instantly, but he was low-key to the point of quaintness. it was as if the intensity of that life had eroded his mental strength to the point of exhaustion, and he only wanted to spend it calmly and quietly, simpler, simpler, and he had already consumed his whole life and could not afford it again. standing on the side of the sansheng stone, shen qingxuan, a wisp of ghost quietly looked at the short life, and then held the meng po soup, drank it calmly, and did not hesitate.

he loved, loved, and had no complaints or regrets. in the next life, he didn't want to love, he didn't want to let himself live that day after day of repression and forbearance.

i was so patient that i didn't dare to say a word of liking. depressed to the last month, the white-haired shen qingxuan looked at yi mo, who was just in good age, and did not dare to ask, do you regret that you were angry with me and damaged my years?

have you ever regretted it?

shen qingxuan did not dare to ask. this answer, don't think about it anymore.

he was dead, immy forgot, and then became an immortal.

stepping over the naihe bridge, shen qingxuan was killed, and ji jiusheng was born.

unconsciously out of the courtyard door, there is another high wall, the road between the walls is square, there is no decoration, this mansion and pavilion, all so worked, as if the craftsmen with a ruler to draw the pattern, neat and upright, no trestle flowing water, no lotus pond moonlight. however, because of its huge footprint, it gives rise to a kind of spaciousness, but also a kind of demure. ji jiu walked slowly in the shadow of the high wall, occasionally walking into the moonlight, and soon retreated into the darkness, silent and breathless.

unconsciously, walk to the remote courtyard, the guest house. ji jiu remembered that this was the courtyard where shen jue lived, paused slightly, pushed open the courtyard door and walked in. there was no sound in the courtyard, but there was light, and the candlelight reflected through the tulle on the window, sprinkled on the steps of the window, paving a layer of orange. at this time, it was late at night, and shen jue had never slept.