Alone Photo of Chonglou

"Zong Jikun," the voice was as soft as a sigh, but each word was struck in the stagnant air, "I don't live long." Looking at the fleeting cracks in the depths of his pupils, I shook my head gently, as if stating a fact that had nothing to do with me: "Do you want to... Compete with the sky?" The curvature of the corners of his lips deepened, tinged with sad mockery, "The Jiang family is very important to me. "..." His eyes glanced at his clenched fists and cast into the void, "But what can I, a dead person, decide?" The last sentence was as soft as a whisper, but with a chill that pierced through the darkness, piercing his strong imperial dignity: "Zong Jikun, crazy people... Will go to hell." I tilted my head slightly, as if I was looking at a strange monster, "Aren't you... Afraid?" ………… Until this day. The dilated pupils struggled to focus under the heavy eyelids. In the dim and dancing candle shadow, the light and shadow twisted and swayed. In a daze... It seemed... Through the dense mist of water vapor and the thick fog of death, he met a pair of eyes. Is it him... Returning from the Zhou Dynasty? "Zhou... Chaogui..." The remaining consciousness, like a gossamer, clung to the crisp breath like a life-saving straw, and mixed the long-standing, absurd and ridiculous grief and anger with the rust-smelling blood foam rising in the throat, and spit it out together: "Your... Your 'long' Life... A hundred years old'..." The voice suddenly broke in the tearing pain, turning into an unsuppressible, dying sob. In the end, there was only a gossamer-like breath sound that could break at any time, falling lightly into the cold and dead air: "It really... Killed me..."