Shangguan Qianyu poured the wine, sprinkled it in front of the grave, and sprinkled three cups in a row. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

After the sacrifice, he looked at the curling smoke, and in the smoke, there was a vague woman's beautiful face, but she had already turned into a pile of charcoal and buried it in the soil, the smiling face no longer existed, and the voice was long distant.

In the Wind Lotus Temple, I will never see her again, and in the Bodhi Temple, I will never see her again.

Shangguan Qianyu only felt that his heart was blocked, extremely uncomfortable, and he seemed to be out of breath.

He sat on the ground in front of the tombstone, leaned against the tombstone, and held the jar of truffle and snow, and drank bitterly at the mouth of the altar.

The wine is crisp and sweet, but the mouth is full of bitterness.

His heart hurts, it hurts, he doesn't know why it hurts so much.

Was it because of her fate similar to his? Or was it because she died so miserably? Or was it because of the guilt that was sinking in her heart?

When everything is irretrievable, does it work for him to think about it again?

He was still sorry for her after all.

Most of his revenge has been avenged for her, but there is one more person, he can't do it, he can't deal with Zirou for her.

Even if he knew that Zirou was lying to him, even if he felt that Zirou was no longer the Zirou he knew, even if he knew that she was dead, Zirou couldn't get out of it, but the grace of saving his life was still greater than the sky and as heavy as a mountain.

This is where he is sorry for Yan Qingrui.

Looking at the lonely grave, Shangguan Qianyu raised his head and took a big sip of wine. He didn't know what to say to Yan Qingrui. He didn't even know if Yan Qingrui hated him, or, in her eyes, he was just a passerby, right?

When she asked him to write a letter of resignation, he was so resolute, and when she asked for a letter of resignation, she was so sure that he was not good to her, so she wanted to leave.

However, she didn't give him a chance to treat her well.

Shangguan Qianyu closed his eyes, and what lingered in front of him was still Yan Qingrui's cold and indifferent look, and what he heard in his ears was still the clear and melodious sound of the piano.

He still had a mystery in his heart, but now, he couldn't solve it.

He took another sip of wine, and suddenly, his hand was empty, and the jar was snatched away.

Shangguan Qianyu opened his eyes, his eyes were full of light, even if he didn't belong now, the person who could sneak in front of him like this and take away the wine jar in his hand would not exceed five people in the whole world.

In front of him, a piece of white clothes fluttered in the night wind, and in the moonlight, the head of a person with a light was very obvious, and at this moment, the man held the wine jar in both hands, and raised his neck to drink wildly.

Obviously he is a monk, obviously wearing monk clothes, obviously bald head, obvious ring scars, he looks like he is drinking wildly, but at this moment, he does not show disobedience.

That kind of uninhibited bearing, that kind of detachment that has everything in his heart, but everything is indifferent, makes everything he does seem natural and spontaneous.

Monk Xuyun drank the remaining nearly two catties of wine in the altar in one go, licked his lips unsatisfied, and asked, "Is there anything else?"

Shangguan Qianyu said lightly: "The truffle snow is gone, but there is an altar of bamboo leaf green!"

Zhu Yeqing was originally a good wine, and the jar brought by Shangguan Qianyu was even more aged for 20 years.

But the Xuyun monk had the pearl of truffle and snow in front of him, and he only pouted at Zhu Yeqing, looking very disdainful, sat down next to Shangguan Qianyu, and easily slapped the mud seal of the altar of Zhu Yeqing, stuffed it into Shangguan Qianyu's hand, and said in his mouth: "If you want to cry, cry, the man doesn't flick when he has tears, just because he hasn't reached the sad place." ”