Zanxing

Suddenly it became dark.

Hairpin Xing felt that he was imprisoned in an extremely narrow space, which was airtight, hot and crowded. She couldn't see everything around her clearly, and could only hear a powerful voice rhythmically.

Boom, boom, boom—

Accompanied by the murmur of water.

She wanted to move her body, but found that she couldn't move, as if someone had forced her into a small box. She tried to gather the Demon King's energy in her body, but she clenched her fists but found that she couldn't do anything.

She seems to have become a powerless person.

Everything around was squeezing the hairpin, and she seemed to have turned into a dough that was still growing, so the squeezing became stronger and stronger, and she began to feel suffocated. This feeling of suffocation cannot be escaped.

She didn't know what to do.

Her sense of smell seemed to be getting more and more sensitive day by day, so along with the vague sound of water, she also smelled some slight fishy odor, which seemed to be bloody and familiar. She couldn't break free, she could only grow and grow in the darkness like this

Until one day, this dark place seemed to usher in a huge tremor, and she felt an extreme suffocation circulating in her body, as if she would have no chance if she didn't go out from here. Under the tremors outside, the body began to squeeze in one direction uncontrollably. She felt as if she was about to be pulled into a long strip, her bones and flesh were squeezed out of shape, and the severe pain ran over every inch of her body. It seems to struggle out from the gap between the two mountains—

A baby's cry suddenly sounded in his ears.

The hairpin star trembled violently, and the skin felt as painful as being pricked by a needle. She saw hurried crowds and iron basins filled with blood, women with sweaty faces on the beds, and countless faces of joy or worry. The noisy voice filled her ears, making her dizzy for a moment, until someone gently picked her up and wiped her whole body with a clean handkerchief, and she saw her own hand, the soft, newborn baby's hand, Only then did she realize that the babbling cry just now came from her own mouth.

She was born.

The yellow honeysuckle blooms brilliantly and looks weak and alive in the white tower. Silver Lion looked at the monks who closed their eyes at the same time, pacing back and forth a little anxiously.

In the tower, a strange voice from a young man sounded, fell into the air, and was quickly blurred.

Tsk tsk, they all came in.

When the hairpin star opened his eyes again, he found himself sitting in front of the yard.

The sun outside is very good, this is a very old yard, it seems that no one has been here for a long time. The ground was covered with a thick layer of ash, and the eaves were covered with cobwebs, which were probably not cleaned.

Sitting in the shadow of the sunlight, she squinted at the sparrows that occasionally landed in the courtyard, and the unbearable exhaustion came from every corner of her body. As if she was a piece of rotten wood that had been corroded by the ant colony, and like a candle that was about to burn out.

She is very old and very old.

So old that she can't walk, so old that her children don't want to come back to see her again, so old that her whole body is filled with the breath of death, and she has no spirit and aura. It can only be like a fish that has landed on the shore, waiting for the enchanter to pass by and lead him to his death.

She didn't understand why she suddenly became a dying old man, but it seemed that the decay not only existed in her body, but also her mind became dull, and she didn't even want to think about it.

The grass and trees in the yard were also withered and yellowed, the twigs fell into the soil, and ant colonies were busy crawling over.

The elderly woman was sitting in the yard, her eyes were cloudy and slightly closed, as if her breath was about to dissipate in this world. A cat meow came from outside the courtyard, and a white cat dashed up the fence, and the figure flashed past the courtyard.

The woman seemed to be startled by this movement, her weak breath was disturbed for a moment, something flashed through her mind, and disappeared very quickly.

She raised her eyes slightly.

At the same time, in the same small courtyard, the late old man stood up tremblingly and walked towards the direction of the sunlight.

The old man was wearing a white cloth, and his clothes were as old as others, and the color was a little yellow, as if it would turn into dust if he touched it lightly with his hand. He walked slowly, pausing for a while to rest at each step, as if the slightest distance would exhaust all his strength.

One step, two steps. Like a snail climbing a peak, after an unknown amount of time, he finally approached the small spot in the yard that was covered by sunlight.

The old man stretched out his hand slowly, his fingertips grabbed a bunch of sunlight, the sunlight looked warm and warm, but it was slightly cooler when it fell on the fingertips.

After a long while, he raised his eyes, revealing a pair of eyes as bright as a young man.

Not the slightest bit of confusion.

The house was filled with a strong scent of medicine.

People going back and forth shuttled around, and from time to time there were noisy voices ringing in the ears, accompanied by the painful moans of the people on the couch.

This is a middle-aged woman, with an exceptionally thin body, sallow skin, and a somewhat ugly face due to the pain. It was sweltering heat, but she felt cold all over her body, covered with a thick quilt, and closed the doors and windows.

The maid beside her whispered: My wife has been in bad health since she beat her mother. Now it's getting worse. She's been tortured every day, and it's uncomfortable for others to see it.

It's so self-conscious. Someone else sighed: It's really pitiful.

The woman on the couch frowned. She was born with a strange disease, and medicine and stone have no effect. This disease is not fatal, but it is extremely torturous, with pain all day long, and fear of light and cold, staying in the house for many years and rarely going out.

The pain all day long seems to make her have no time to take care of other things. Sometimes she even forgets who she is. She just feels that the pain is endless, and the suffering of life is endless.

The rain outside the window was pattering, and the wind blew the window with a pop sound.

The maid left, and on a summer afternoon, the woman on the couch suddenly felt a little thirsty, and stood up with difficulty, trying to get enough of the cup on the table.

Her eyes narrowed suddenly.

On the cup of Xiaoji, I don't know when a white bag appeared. This bag seemed to appear out of thin air, with exquisite embroidery and clean colors. This is an ordinary thing, but for some reason, just looking at it, I feel that it is out of tune with this room full of medicinal herbs.

The woman looked at it, stretched out her hand obsessively, crossed the cup she wanted to take, and picked up this strange bag.

As soon as the kit started, the pain all over the body seemed to be relieved instantly. She narrowed her eyes slightly, her mind was sluggish for a moment, like an ant working in a hurry every day, she suddenly found herself in the same place, and had to have great doubts about everything in front of her.