Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 197

His vision followed the piano player into the flower forest.

Although he had no ears at all, he heard the singing of Zhenjin Weizuo.The voice of the youth, who is both unfamiliar and familiar, sings alone in the depths of the flower forest.

Pulling aside the tangled vermilion and white branches, I saw a young man in red in the empty valley.

He turned his head under the flower tree and looked at the qin player who was walking into the forest.As if encountering a wild fowl that was a natural enemy, he immediately raised his head, showing killing intent on his expressionless face.

"Don't be so irritated, and don't look like your father," said the fiddler. "I'm just showing someone the way. Look, your good friend is here. Don't want to use what you should have How about saying hello to him?"

He raised his left hand and put it in front of his face.Luo Binhan's gaze penetrated into the bottom of the pitch-black hood, and then squeezed into two cold eye sockets.

Everything fit perfectly, as if this head and this body were his own from the very beginning.

Luo Binhan opened his eyes, put down his left hand covering his face, and saw Jing Huang, who was in his 20s, standing under the flower tree.Her black hair was as long as a crane's feathers, and her wide sleeves were as red as blood, all of which flowed brightly but illusoryly in her field of vision.

It doesn't feel real, just like a phantom light painting painted in the air.Just reach out and swipe, and that image will disappear from reality immediately.

He looked at Luo Binhan, the murderous look faded from his face, and he was still standing in the forest like an illusion.The black jade knife swirled above his head like a pitch-black crescent moon.

Luo Binhan stepped forward and reached out to pull the other party's sleeve.His fingertips touched the flowing crimson, and then passed through it as if inserting into flowing water.

He waved his hand and scratched the young man's face, but the result was the same.The palm passed directly through the opponent's head, without causing any waves on the young man's face.

"You should see clearly before acting."

His lips parted automatically, uttering words that had nothing to do with his own will.Then his neck was pressed down by some external force, forcing his eyes to look at the young man's feet.

He wanted to resist this inexplicable commander, but found that apart from the eyes, none of the functions of the body were willing to obey his command, and he could only use vision to maintain the awareness of self-existence.

Although the senses he could use were so limited, he did, as the tongue said, see what needed to be noticed.

From the root of the flower tree, there are densely packed transparent meridians.Silk threads, as soft as mother's sewing, penetrated the ground one by one and were woven into the blood-red long sleeves, the number of which was already immeasurable.

Relying on these silk threads, the youth is like a silhouette standing up from a pop-up book, completely integrated with the ground.And what "hangs" him from the ground is the black and white silk thread hanging from the sky.

One is black, the other is white, and what penetrates the top of the young man's head is a double strand of jade thread wound in a spiral.It leads to the sky like a rope hanging from a puppet, and the end of it is impossible to see clearly.

The rope protruding from the void, the silk growing from the tree, fixed the "image" from the two ends of the sky and the earth.The more he recognized this fact, the clearer and more definite the silk rope he could see became.

Whether it is the gradual deepening of the cognition of the real thing, or the imaginary form of the nothingness, at this moment he is completely unable to distinguish.But the answer itself doesn't matter, the things that need to be implemented don't change.

To tear those threads.The mind thinks this way, but the body does not act at all.

"It's up to you to do it yourself."

His lips and tongue whispered, hissing out letters as thin as a snake.

"You only have your eyes to get here," the voice told him, "otherwise you can't go back. You should learn to use it well and do whatever you want."

"Not anything," followed his lips, "sufficient when necessary."

"Every moment is necessary."

"Only now is necessary."

Contrary words kept coming out of his mouth.It was almost as if his mouth was arguing with itself.But no matter which side, it has nothing to do with his own thoughts.

Eyes fixed on the line in the air, invisible tentacles stretched out.He imagined turning that tangled black and white thread into a brittle crystal, but nothing happened.

That simply can't be done.He didn't understand how that "reordering" was implemented, and didn't like the format at all.

It's too cumbersome, too detailed, too bland.Retaining and rewriting the original appearance of things, that kind of complicated and cumbersome things bored him just by imagining them.Obviously it can be solved more simply, all he needs is——

cutting.torn.break down.Simple and joyful acts of destruction, there is no need to establish a new order.A cold death, a death wet and quiet like rain, just thinking about it is unacceptable.

Riot is what is wanted.

chaos.fanaticism.crazy.Destruction of any kind burns violently like fire.How lively it is, how interesting it is, so that there will be no superfluous things left.

After realizing this, he suddenly understood.The reason why I took in the alien in red was neither out of curiosity nor to repay the kindness of saving my life.In that night surrounded by the flames of the emerald star, in the horror of being almost caught in the flames, he felt the reality of his life like never before.

It doesn't matter if you die.It doesn't matter if the whole family is killed.As long as he can touch the reality of life, no matter how dangerous it is, it suits him.It doesn't matter whether it's about law or reason, that kind of boring boundary doesn't matter.Looting, killing, and death, as long as the form of life is still the same, it doesn't matter what kind of nice or novel name it is.

Ignored by the world, he also ignores the world. In the two-way rejection and contempt, he never felt any discomfort.The reason why an invitation is sent to a strange boy is completely the same as a moth to a flame.

That's just fascination with "death" that burns everything.

His eyes rolled with joy.Although only his eyes could move now, he felt an unprecedented freedom, as if he had bitten open the dark chrysalis, flapping his wings and flying towards the flames.

His sight was about to stretch out, but his left hand was automatically raised to block the outside scene.

"Robinhan."

Words sounded from his mouth, calling out concisely and calmly.

He recognized the voice with wonder and a dark ecstasy at the same time.He knew it, and he should have done it.

"This thing can only be done once." The voice said, "Don't open it again in the future."

That's not up to you, he thought to himself.

The left hand that covered the line of sight was lowered, revealing the black and white jade lines floating in the air.

Grasping the momentary gap, invisible tentacles extend from the eyeballs.It's like a lizard sticking out its tongue, attacking the flying insects floating in the air, and wrapping the seemingly invisible rope tightly.

Burn it up, he thought to himself.Don't simply tear it off, you should follow this sky rope and burn it to the end.

Vision is distorted by thoughts.He saw a dim light dancing on the rope, it was not a real flame, but sharply grinding the strands of the jade thread.

The dim Guanglan climbed up along the sky rope.Before he had time to get excited, his body went up against his will. "Body" stretched out his left hand, tightly grasping the break of the rope, blocking his sight.Guanglan burned the glove, exposing the skin inside.

Unlike the dead right hand, the left hand looked complete and alive, with long and neat fingers and thin calluses on the side and abdomen.That doesn't seem like a trace left by playing the piano.

The left hand of the "body" disintegrated in the light, and he saw that the skin on it was peeling off, and then the muscles were torn apart, and the original body was beyond recognition.

The bloody hand let go of the broken rope and stretched towards his eyes.The fingertips dug into the eye sockets, took off the sticky and hot sphere inside, and gently threw it into the sky.

Luo Binhan felt his field of vision start to rotate again.The sky vortex, the blood field, and the flower tree passed by in turn. In the chaos, he saw the young man in red fall down, while the body of the piano player stood in place, and lifted the hood covering his face with his bloody hands.

He saw a very familiar face, vaguely a friend's face from his hometown.

The line of sight began to fall, and fell to the bloody ground.In extreme astonishment, he opened his eyes and sat up from the ground.

The blue field came into view.The fragrant grass is luxuriant and endless, swaying gently in the wind.

"Luo Han!"

He heard someone calling him, not from his head, but into his ears with the wind.He turned his head in a daze, and saw a tree-like girl kneeling next to him.

Her body is made of wood and roots. The dense ivy leaves are long hair scattered like a waterfall, and the sky blue vine flowers are blooming.When she blinked, her dewy eyes glistened in the morning sun.

"...Blue Magpie?"

Robin Han said hoarsely.His body was numb and sluggish, like a vegetable that just woke up.And the image that appeared in front of him was so strange that he suspected that he had been asleep for a hundred years.

The wooden girl cheered.The dew condensed in the eye sockets flowed down her cheeks.Then she spread out her sprouting arms and gave Luo Binhan a hug full of morning rain.

(End of this chapter)