In Yan Qing's thousands of years, he has walked through Huangquan and blue falls, walked through Naihe on the other side, tasted Huangquan water, and drank Mengpo soup. I thought I was already terminally ill and there was no cure.
When she was next to him, she suddenly realized. It's not that there is no cure, it's just that there is no one waiting to save her.
It turns out that I can still let go of so much and start over.
Yan Qing: "Why... It's you again?"
Xiao Mo raised his eyebrows: "Why can't it be me?"
Yan Qing: "Didn't you... Get sick and go to find medicine?"
Xiao Mo shook his head: "I'm very ill and there's no way I can be saved."
Yan Qing pondered, took out several small bottles, and asked worriedly: "What about these? Are they useful? Yellow spring water, Meng Po soup, Bianhua flower juice..."
Xiao Mo chuckled: "These are useless."
Before Yan Qing could speak, he added, "I wonder if Qing'er has heard a sentence?"
Yan Qing looked at Xiao Mo quietly.
Xiao Mo said sternly: "There is a saying that I am glad that you have become ill. No medicine or stone can cure it."
This disease will never get better in his lifetime.
The copywriting is weak and the title of the work is weak