Vol 7 Chapter 894: Snow grave small diameter

The star-falling monument at the top of the patio lights up, and the gate to the Holy Land Yuanliu Mountain opens. Lu Zhengkang moves forward, crossing the corridor but stepping into the dazzling sky, but it is also very deep snow.
This is the foothills, and there doesn't seem to be so much snow in the previous few times. It was so cold, the heat of the rune on Lu Zhengkang's chest dissipated all of a sudden, deprived, extinguished, blown out, cold, and there was such a big wind, he was about to be blown a somersault, Lu Zhengkang bowed The waist, the red robe is trembling, the light of the runes is not as bright as the sky reflection of the snow, a piece of white, cold, hard rock, mountain wall, scattered with the tombstones of star fallers, scattered with long pillars, scattered scattered, scattered and scattered Covered by the wind and snow, the ruins of Tanyu are covered with a cold fig leaf. Apart from making people completely desperate in their death, it does not seem to make people nostalgic for history.
Lu Zhengkang is no stranger to such a scene. He has the right to treat himself as an ordinary person and face such extreme cold. Since he is an ordinary person, the power of the past is not worth boasting.
Strengthen the faith in pilgrimage. As usual so many times.
Anyway, when the wind and snow are all over his body and his thinking freezes, nothing will remain except the pilgrimage.
Climbing along the hillside, star fellers fell down in the snowdrift. Their corpses, those red silk cloth, drilled out from the ground in clusters, solidified by the wind and snow, like a frozen bonfire.
Lu Zhengkang only took two steps, and the fringed Mana on his back was burned out. He felt the extreme cold seep into his star soul. He worked hard to drill on those frozen silks, and runes to light up the silks-this was a little thawed. The light from the silks only warmed Lu Zhengkang's robes, just like making the clouds of winter behind. A thin blanket slightly scorched by the sun.
The cold is the form of death and forgetting: it is the predestined existence and the end. Lu Zhengkang did not want to usher in the ending before the finish line.
He curled up in a pile of cloth for a while, and random memories came up.
There are no specific fragments, but there are some old people’s faces, which soon disappeared, like scraps of paper scattered on the trickle of the water, and colorful pieces of colored paper undulating on the broken meander of the water, the gentle spring light Dumb in the canal, light and liquid, water vapor and smells, wind and quiet sound, what Lu Zhengkang can't forget are some meaningless fragments of childhood.
Hey, he is so crazy!
Lu Zhengkang has forgotten his purpose, and he still remembers that he has a purpose-this is the only will that can remain in the face of the wind and snow that represents forgetfulness, just like his red robe gradually covered by frost. His past has been frozen, and his runes are also abysmal. As Lu Zhengkang, he has only one idea to move forward, but what is it for? He has no idea. The journey is inertial. Star fallers Embarking on a journey for different purposes, but when approaching the end, when physically and mentally exhausted, there is only one idea of ​​going forward, only one idea of ​​reaching the top, only one idea of ​​having a beginning and an end. Travelers at this time are irrational. Reason is a paradox. It is the most irrational to stay sensible during the journey.
Lu Zhengkang shook his body and sang: Deer.
He wanted to use this to strengthen his knowledge of himself. It's almost freezing his brain... He didn't have a brain at first, but he couldn't even forget what he called.
There was a soft hum from behind: Yue.
Lu Zhengkang was a little surprised and turned around to look at him. In front of the gate of the holy water patio behind him, a red-robed companion trot over on the ramp, and he kept beating: Yue.
The companion ran to the front, covered with wind and snow, he kept singing, and the warm light bathed Lu Zhengkang, making him greatly relieved. If he could speak, Lu Zhengkang would certainly greet him: Yuanliu Mountain is getting cold.
It used to be cold, and it used to be cold, but now it is getting colder and the snow thicker.
This is a rift valley between two mountain cliffs. The wind passes by here quickly and fiercely. Lu Zhengkang is like a piece of wet felt, which freezes hard without knowing it. If he continues to indulge in red silk The false warmth in the pile will slowly die.
Yuelai happens to be like a savior.
The light from the companions singing to each other dissipated the chill here. They walked side by side, and they had never met each other before, so they simply met and went together. All the people I met along the way were new friends, which made Lu Zhengkang somewhat relieved. It seemed that there were still quite a few star fallers.
But he was a little worried that the companion he had met before was making a mistake, he shouldn't, Lu Zhengkang thought in his heart, who had he met before? When reminiscing like this, it was completely blank. His thoughts were like snow on the ground, soft and rich, but lightly empty.
There was a gust of wind blowing from the mountain gap in front, and Lu Zhengkang and Yue were turned somersaults. They hurriedly hid behind the scattered stone steles, waited for the strong wind to stop before moving forward. The wind is always blowing, the difference is nothing more than strength. Walking against the wind is almost drifting, as if the body and soul have no weight, letting the wind deprive him of his past.
Hey, does he actually have a past? Those so-called pasts are dreams, right? Is it different from a dream? The story of the universe in a grain of sand and a piece of snow is not like a dream? Does the starfaller have dreams too?
Yue kept singing.
Lu Zhengkang is always distracted.
There was another strong wind, Lu Zhengkang was caught off guard and rolled back. Yue ran over from behind the stele, and he was also lifted by the wind.
The two of them were awkwardly lying on the snow like two lumps of tumbleweed. Lu Zhengkang sang a song, sat up hard, and Yue was in front of him. He became a lumps, stood up and trembled, whispered twice, still Very energetic.
Yue is much firmer than Lu Zhengkang, his runes are warm, like a little sun.
Maybe it's really not on the stage~EbookFREE.me~Lu Zhengkang is rather dingy, he has completely forgotten why he came here, just about to reach the top. You must climb to the top if you freeze to death. As for what's on Yuanliu Mountain, I'll see it when I arrive.
They still sang to each other to warm each other, just like drumming to spread flowers, echoing, and making sounds with their hearts. Such ethereal screams, there is no echo from the mountains, only the sound that each other can hear.
It should be so resolute, it should be so quiet, as long as you remember your name, call your name to the land of predestined flow, just like I have heard from his population countless times, let my empty soul remember a name . Let numbers be embedded in functions, flesh and blood can be embedded in bones, and symbols can be embedded in order. If there is no name and form, they are nothing, no different from sand and snow.
They walked slowly through the crevice of the mountain in front, and came to the enclosed mountain col. There were thick silks everywhere, and tombstones everywhere. There were many travelers buried here. The silk cloth was like grass on the head of a grave, cooling and witty, in the wind. The trembling appearance, like the soul of the dead, gently waved and waved. There will be no peace in death, the body of the traveler will rot, and the name will be forgotten, but there is still some abstract thing left behind, it has been left behind.
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