Go Through My Demon Host

Chapter 4120: Finale: Every year has today, every year has today

Chapter 4120 Finale: Every year has today, every year has today

This evening, the snow was beginning to fall, and the moonlight was clear.

's clear and courteous voice spoke about the world she had not seen in those years for a whole night.

No one slept.

She finally doesn't need to deceive herself and tell the story he once told her every night.

The figure in front of the bed was tall and thin, and it became more and more ethereal in the moonlight.

He was quiet, speaking in a hoarse voice.

It is early morning.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Ranbai couldn't bear his voice, "I want to sleep with Mr.

"Abai." He whispered, "I want to tell you."

was silent for two seconds.

Ranbai said yes: "I will listen to Mr.

The night was drowsy, and the snow and moonlight mixed in a line, shining into the small window of the attic, and the figure was illuminated on and off.

This scene has been in the dream for too long, for thousands of years, the memory is a luxury.

He had too many things to tell her in those dark days.

But in the end, he just called out Bai, like every night for the past three years, telling a strange story of perfection.

The protagonist in the story is lucky in his life without disaster.

is his shadow in the story.

Mr. closed his eyes for a long time in the dim moonlight, his fingertips fell on the dyed white eyebrows, his voice was silent and his heartbeat was beating.

In the depths of the night, Ranbai heard him sigh, and his voice seemed far away and close at hand.

"Mr. has not returned home for a long time. I miss him and I am happy, but more of it is guilt."

Dye Bai held his sleeves from beginning to end, never letting go, looked at him, and only said, "It's good to go home, sir."

The night is deep, the cold current is surging, and it finally returns to the clear moonlight, which is gentle in an instant.

This night, I will no longer sleep alone.

The story was told all night long.

No one slept.

Mr. sat there, invisible, with his sleeves dyed white.

Ranbai didn't close his eyes all night, and stared at him for a long time in silence.

The next day was a sunny day. The snow on the eaves had melted a little and rolled down from the eaves. The sun was just right.

Light entered the attic, reflecting two figures.

Just as the gentleman opened the second compartment under the dresser and took out the wooden comb, he was dyed white and held down his wrist, the red moiré sleeves shone with silver light, his fingers were pale and cold, his movements were lazy, and he took it lightly. He took the wooden comb from his hand: "I'll do it."

He didn't argue with her, and sat calmly in front of the dresser, smiling: "Okay, sorry for the trouble, Bai."

"No trouble." Ranbai whispered, "I haven't combed Mr.'s hair yet."

There was a moment of silence in the attic.

The blood clan, with red clothes like snow, silver hair and red eyes, clinging to a wooden comb, holding three thousand strands of hair with pale and slender fingers, stood behind Mr.

The sun shines, blurring the two figures, the shadows overlap and entangle.

"One comb is more joy."

A familiar voice sounded, and Mr. paused slightly.

And Yanbai looked at the figure in the mirror, every word.

"Second Combs Long Peace."

Two different voices overlap in the trajectories of the past and reality, crossing the mountains and rivers.

There are two figures reflected in the mirror. Just like in the past, the weak blood clan was lying in front of the dressing table, with silver hair reaching to the ankles.

That man in Xueyi, with clear eyes, looked at her with a smile and said, "When our Ah Bai grows up, the husband will be old."

At that time, Ranbai was angry with this for a long time, but was coaxed by Mr. a snowman.

She is actually very coaxing.

Just give her a candy.

"Three combs and worry-free."

Now that Bai has grown up, he can comb his hair with his own hands.

It's a pity that Mr. Bai couldn't see how he grew up.

Ranbai learned what he used to look like, and picked up a wooden comb for him with his own hands.

The man in the mirror smiled, and although he covered his eyes with plain silk, he was still open: "May it be as Abai said."

Even if we don’t see you every year, be safe every year.

That was what she once thought.

From now on, she will have today every year, and every year will have today.