Chu Wanning knew that he had no choice, so he finally put on a thick fox fur cloak, held up an oil-paper umbrella, and went to Wushan Hall.

The silver and copper lamps in the hall were lit with bright lights, and the ninety-nine lights were as bright as the galaxy, reflecting the entire Wushan Hall brilliantly. The attendants on both sides were commonplace to serve Master Chu. When they saw him coming in, they all bowed their eyes and saluted. Chu Wanning walked through the side door corridor with expressionless expression and walked to the rest of the back hall - when he arrived at the Diaoqi Zhumen, he stretched out his hand and pushed open the door.

The house was very warm, unlike the cold rain outside, and there was a rich aroma of wine coming from the nose. Mo Ran lay lazily on the couch, his white jade-like fingers pinching the small red mud pot, drinking.

"You're here."

“…”

"sit."

Chu Wanning walked to the bamboo mat farthest from him, sat down, and closed his eyes.

Mo Ran did not force him to get close. He was already drunk, with a little redness on his pale face. He glanced at the eyes, and some tiny light flowed in his purple pupils. After another mouthful, Mo Ran looked up at the top of the dragon and painted phoenix, and tapped his fingers gently on his knees.

He suddenly asked, "Can you still do a copycat?"

Chu Wanning's eyelashes moved slightly, but he finally said, "No more."

Mo Ran was a little reluctant: "What you did was that year... the year he left."

"I can't do it well." Chu Wanning didn't have much expression on her face, "You're right, that's Dong Shi Xiaopin."

Mo Ran narrowed his eyes: "Are you a grudge in the notebook?"

"No."

"What if I ordered you to make one now?"

Chu Wanning didn't say anything, Mo Ran looked at him with a burning look: "Ask you something. If you want to make a copy now, are you willing to do it?"

"Even if I did it." Chu Wanning finally opened his eyes and looked at him coldly, "Can you eat it?"

Unexpectedly, he would be rebel-backed. A layer of blood suddenly floated on Mo Ran's cheeks, as if the smell of alcohol was rising, and it seemed that he was angry. In short, the emotions in his eyes suddenly became very confused. After a while, he realized that he realized. He gritted his teeth and irritably brushed the wine cup before the table, and the best white pear blossoms sprinkled all over the ground.

Mo Ran stood up sinisterly, his figure was like a mountain. He walked over the broken pottery and strode to Chu Wanning, grabbing the other party's clothes.

"You are good, Song Qiutong." The Immortal Lord gritted his teeth, "You all want to make me feel unhappy."

He let go of Chu Wanning, wandering around like an eagle, walking back and forth—

Suddenly, the steps stopped.

He turned his head and stared at Chu Wanning and asked, "When did you teach me the sentence "Seeing Xinrushi?"

The Immortal Lord was half drunk at this moment, and he had no rationality in his speech, so he could talk wherever he thought.

"Why don't I remember it at all."

His wrist was grabbed by a cold big hand, and Mo Ransheng pulled him and pulled him to the desk. He laid out the paper and spread out a pile of books. Mo Ran said, "Write it for me. Teach me again."

Chu Wanning had a low fever, but was forced by him like this. In anger, she became more and more suffocated, and her face turned red and she started to cough.

Mo Ran stuffed the pen into his hand and said gloomy and depressedly: "Write."

Impatiently urged: "Hurry."

Chu Wanning's spiritual core had been broken in the previous match between master and apprentice, and his health was not good. As he coughed like this, blood foam choked in his throat.

Mo Ran was stunned at this time, staring at the spots of blood, and then slowly let go of his hand.

"It's just a greeting for letters, what's the point?" Finally, Chu Wanning stopped coughing. He sighed and wiped the blood from his lips with a veil.

He raised his eyes, took a breath, and looked at Mo Ran: "In the past, you would write this beginning with every letter. But you probably haven't started writing for too long, so you forgot."

"I... write a letter?" Mo Ran stared at him with dark eyes, "To whom?" He almost angrily said: "Who am I writing a letter to? Who else can I write a letter to in this world? Make up random... make up random... make up nonsense!"

Mo Ran was both distressed and depressed when he said this, and his eyes were filled with a hazy luster.

It was at that time that Chu Wanning vaguely felt something was wrong. But he didn't think much at that time, just thinking that Mo Ran was drunk and had a bad memory. So he just frowned and did not answer.

There are letter boxes in the study room of Wushan Palace. All letters on the top of life and death will be locked in a Qiankun box for filing. Mo Ranru trapped beasts in a cage for a few times, and suddenly remembered the existence of the letter boxes, so he took out the dusty box and opened the long-standing letters.

Most of the letters were written by disciples in the sect, and they were classified according to the elders they were taught. Most of the letters had died in the year when Mo Ran's rebellion. Among them, Elder Yuheng had the least disciples, only three, so it was particularly convenient to find them. Mo Ran soon came across a thick stack of letters.

He trembled and took it apart.

His handwriting is good, tender and crooked, but he writes very seriously. After reading one by one, each letter reads "Seeing a letter is like meeting, and showing a letter to relax your face."

Every letter has it.

Mo Ran's fingers were trembling, and his eyes were full of bizarre colors.

——

"My grandma, I see the letter as if I meet, and I will show the letter and relax my eyes."

"Sister Xun, I feel as if I am not sure about the letter, and I will show my letter and relax my eyes."

Those long-standing names made him tremble and made him sob. His pupils were narrow and narrow, and clouds were covered with clouds on his heroic face.

Chu Wanning stood beside him, still not caring at first, but the more he went, Mo Ran's expression made him feel strange... He couldn't help but lock his eyes at the desk, the man who was flipping old letters and acting crazy.

A small terror stretched out his sharp beak and hit Chu Wanning's heart.

What's wrong?

He walked over slowly, looking at Mo Ran's confused and crazy look in the letter.

...What's wrong?

"My mother is dead..." Suddenly, Mo Ran murmured and looked up at Chu Wanning, "Why did I write to her?"

Chu Wanning watched his every move from the side, and the horror was pecking in his heart, as if some bloody darkness was about to break out.

A dark cloud comes to the world.

It is strange to forget the greeting words "Seeing a letter is like meeting" that have been written many times, but it is not impossible.

But I forgot that I had written so many letters and had no impression of it at all. This is really strange.

Mo Ran was still looking at one by one: "Zhan Xin Shu Yan...Zhan Xin Shu Yan..." The gloss in the eyes that were so dark that the purple-tongued eyes were so painful and so contradictory.

It seems that some important memory is missing.

I could hear the sound of the hard shell about to crack.

Chu Wanning calmed down his breath, his spine almost felt a little numb. There was no one else in the study except the two of them. In this dead silence, Chu Wanning moved his lips and then whispered: "Don't you remember? You said at the beginning that although your mother could not receive the letter, you still want to write it to her."

Mo Ran suddenly raised his head.

Chu Wanning only felt that his blood was cooling down little by little, and he breathed into ice.

"The first name you learned to write is not your own."

Mo Ran whispered in a daze: "What is that?"

"The first title you asked me to teach you is Ah Niang."

There was lightning and thunder outside, and the strong wind roared shrillly, just like countless ghost claws hitting the window, shaking the window paper and wooden lattices.

A lightning flashed down, shining the world in a vast world.

The Emperor of Immortal Treading Murmur: "...Is it you taught me?...Why don't you have any impression at all...I have no idea at all."

The wind blew the trees and fell down, the shadows swayed, and the evil spirits of the evil spirits all over the mountains and yards.

Chu Wanning's face turned pale. He stared at Mo Ran tightly, his eyes like an eagle falcon: "You don't remember?"

Heart is like a drum beat.

A little silence, Mo Ran asked back almost confusedly, "What do you remember?"

Drum stops.

The tiny beak finally pecked the shell through, and the terrifying intention of covering the sky and the ground rushed towards the only sober person in the house, striking waves against the shore!

Chu Wanning's scalp was numb - he didn't remember? How could he not remember?!

When Mo Ran said he wanted to write a letter to his mother, he wrote more than 300 letters, saying that he wanted to collect a thousand letters, and then burned them to the underworld during the Ullamban Festival...

How could you forget more than 300 letters easily?

His lips were trembling slightly, and suddenly there was an extremely terrifying guess. Chu Wanning said hoarsely: "Do you... remember what you said when you saw Tianwen for the first time?"

"What did I say?" Mo Ran said, "How long has it been, how could I remember it clearly?"

"You said you want such a magic weapon too." Chu Wanning said, "You also want to have a question..."

The drunk man asked him, and his eyes revealed a hint of mockery: "What do I want God to do? Is it a murder or an interrogation?"

Chu Wanning whispered: "Earthworm."

Outside the Red Lotus Water Pavilion, the young man was young and green, holding an oil-paper umbrella with a smile and said to him: "You can save the earthworms."

But at this moment, the Emperor of Immortal narrowed his tiger-like eyes, but he was puzzled: "What earthworm?"

Outside, thunder broke through the sky, purple lightning penetrated the night.

There was a loud rumbling sound.

Chu Wanning suddenly pursed her lips, and her brown pupils shook slightly.

The bone-accusing chill.
To be continued...