The day gradually darkened, and everything returned to tranquility, like the ups and downs of the rivers and lakes.

Xiang Fang, the sycamore, and the red willow, still maintaining their original posture, stood in place, watching the back of Lan Yutang slowly merge with the twilight outside the window.

In the twilight, the corners of Hongliu's eyes suddenly revealed a faint sadness, and there was also a trace of an inexplicable smile, like a little blush reflected in the microwave.

Her sadness was written on her face, but her smile was hidden in her heart.

But no one saw it.

Kuaidao Xiang Fang looked at the plate that was already empty on the table, which originally contained fish-flavored eggplant, and let the gossip skull pattern on his body slowly spread and spread all over his body.

Sycamore, on the other hand, was looking at his almost flawless hands, as if he had taken care of everything else.

The inn that had been half burned down by the fire dragon, the helpless expressions on the faces of the Qingyan and Black Smoke and White Smoke brothers, as well as the nameless sting on Xiang Fang's face brought by the spread of the gossip pattern, she was completely unaware.

All she had in her eyes was Xiang Fang's hands.

Hongliu looked at Fang, then at Wutong, suddenly sighed, and then slowly walked to the door, leaning on the threshold that had been half burned, and looking at the direction where Lan Yutang disappeared.

At the moment when he jumped out of the Lonely Smoke Inn, Lan Yutang's heart suddenly swelled with an inexplicable tragedy, and he didn't know if it was because of the inexplicable friendship established between him and Kuaidao Xiangfang after undergoing the surprise attack of Fire Dragon Xie, or because of the simple promise that Hongliu made to him when he left.

But no matter what, Lan Yutang didn't think about it anymore.

When the back of the Lonely Smoke Inn was completely hidden in the boundless twilight, his footsteps suddenly became full, and then, the immortal jade flute as red as blood and as gorgeous as a rose was placed across his mouth.

A cold star rose from the edge of the sky, and a string of strong notes that were different from the psychedelic of the Phoenix Night Mesobe and the Requiem of the Phoenix Town slowly flowed out of the seven jade holes under the cold star.

Then, in the twilight, under the firmament, it swirled for a long time, like the lingering fragrance of flowers in the spring garden.

In the sound of the flute, a delicate bird suddenly broke through the silence of the night, flew from the sky, from the forest, from the ocean, or from the distant extradimensional space, and gently landed at the end of Lan Yutang's jade flute.

The sound of the flute stopped, and the flower bell at one end jingled to the rhythm of the flickering wings of the bird, as if it were a call from afar.

Lan Yutang smiled, put away the jade flute, spread out his palm, bowed the bird in his palm, and then took out the skeleton left by the black-clothed puppet from his arms.

Although half an hour had passed, there was still the residual breath of the black-clothed puppet on the skeleton.

Seeing this, the delicate bird jumped from Lan Yutang's palm to the skeleton, and then, pecking on it, jumped a few times, as if recognizing some mysterious aura remaining on it.

When it noticed that some kind of aura remained in the air was similar to the aura left on the skeleton, it spread its wings and flew towards the back mountain of the Golden Throwing Villa.

Lan Yutang followed closely, not daring to follow too closely, for fear that the wind from his clothes would dilute the smell of those black-clothed puppets remaining in the air when he was walking forward, affecting the tracking of the bird.

Of course, I didn't dare to go too far, for fear of losing the bird in the dense forest and hazy twilight, so I always kept that kind of distance.

The sky is full of woods.

At this moment, although it is already the season of late autumn, the woods in the deep mountains are still lush and green, like countless canopies reaching into the sky.

The further you go in, the denser the woods become, the lower the terrain, the tangled shrubs and weeds beneath your feet, and the treacherous mountain streams are filled with the humid season, with the smell of running water and rotting leaves.

There are stars in the sky.

But at this moment, those faint starlights have been tightly separated from the sky by this canopy-like dense forest, and there is no trace of cold starry breath.

Although the night was dark, there was still a little fire in the forest not far away, which was the phosphorus fire scattered on the bones of the corpses scattered in the deep mountain field.

The more you go inside, the more dull and depressing it becomes, the heavier those damp breaths become, and the more you go inside, the more ominous a premonition Lan Yutang has in her heart.

As he followed the bird's trail, the phosphorus fire in the forest summoned his soul from the depths of the forest, like a demon with eyes burning like coal.

It seems that the wind is rising.

The gloomy wind blew up the leaves of the trees, like the sighs and wails of ghosts, and wept, wandering endlessly in this gloomy forest and mountain stream.

The wind rising, the sound of the leaves, the beating of the phosphorus fire, and the dull breath combined into an inexplicable hustle and bustle, endlessly rotating in this dark sky, like flying sand and rocks in a whirlwind.

Everything seemed to move, everything seemed to be still, and the only real thing was probably the delicate bird flying overhead.

Although it was night, although the atmosphere in the forest was gloomy, when the bird was flying and tracking, it emitted some kind of strong light, like a burning phoenix, guiding Lan Yutang to move slowly in this deep mountain forest.

At this moment, although everything around him was so oppressive, so strange, and there was a slight danger of losing his way and falling into a mountain stream and being attacked by wild beasts, Lan Yutang did not doubt the bird's tracking ability at all.

Because as long as it smells something, it will run to hell, and it will be able to catch up.

The bird's name is Pan.

It is said that when a phoenix is reborn from the fire, it will shed its original wings, just as a silkworm sheds its cocoon when it becomes a butterfly, and a snake sheds its skin when it hibernates.

And those fallen wings will fall on the flame rock of Nirvana, and then, after ninety-nine eighty-one days, this rock stained with phoenix wings will turn into a bird, which is a rock.

If Lan Yutang is the reborn phoenix, then the rock that guides him in the direction at this moment is the spirit he turned into when he was in Nirvana.

Now it is a part of his body, just as the woman is the life that God has evolved from the bone that God took out of the man's ribs.

The bird rock swam through the dense forests and bushes, the blue jade begonia swam underneath it, and the trees and shrubs kept retreating and retreating at their feet.

Then, at the end of the forest, Asuka suddenly stopped, let out a long whistle, and kept circling and wandering in the night sky, which had lost the light of the sun.

It seemed to tell Lan Yutang that the black-clothed puppet's shelter had been found.

Lan Yutang took a long breath, and then, jumping slightly, like a phoenix with wings spread, jumped out of the forest and jumped to the place where the bird was perched.

When he hit the ground, his eyes suddenly lit up.

The end of this forest is a different world entirely.

Now, although the outside world is already in the late autumn season, it is still warm as spring, and the flowers and trees at four o'clock are overwhelmingly extending on the grass.