When the ink burned was not the emperor, there was always someone who told him to be a dog.

The treasurer licked his dog son, the guest licked his dog, the cousin licked his dog, his mother was the most powerful, and he was raised by his dog.

Of course, there have always been some dog-related descriptions, not too bad. For example, his dew love, always with a bit of anger, slap him on the couch like a male dog, sweet talk on the mouth of the soul, under the murder weapon to win the Qing life, but then go and Others show off, and everyone in the corrugated world knows that he is drizzling with a sneaker, and he has tried the fullness of his heart.

I have to say that these people are quite right, and the ink burning is really like a silly dog ​​shaking his head.

It was not until he became the emperor of the real world that such a name suddenly disappeared.

One day, a fairy godmother sent him a milk dog.

The dog met gray, three fires on the forehead, a bit like a wolf. But only the melon is so big, it grows like a melon head, it is fat and round, but I feel that I am very prestige. I am running around the hall, I want to climb the high steps several times, to see it well, to sit on the emperor. The people, but because the legs are too short, they all ended in failure.

The ink burned and stared at the empty and powerful, but the real hairless group looked at the whiskers, and suddenly smiled, laughing and whispering, dog things.

The milk dog quickly grew into a big dog, the big dog became an old dog, and the old dog became a dead dog.

The burning of the eyes is sturdy, and the complex is opened again. His life, the humiliation of the ups and downs, or the ups and downs, has passed for thirty-two years.

He is tired of everything, feels boring and lonely, and there are fewer and fewer people familiar with him in these years. Even three fires have their lives, and he feels that it is almost the same. It is over.

Take a crystal and rich grape from the fruit bowl and slowly peel off the purple skin.

His movements were so skillful, like the smashing of the king in the account, stripping the clothes of Hu Ji, with some lazy. Bi Yingying's flesh trembled at his fingertips, the juice drenched, and the purple color was faint, like the geese Danxia came, like a sea otter spring to sleep.

It is like dirty blood.

As he swallowed the sweetness in his mouth, he looked at his fingers and then squinted his eyes.

He thought that the time was almost there.

He should also go to hell.

The ink burns and the word is light rain.

The first king of the realm of comprehension.

It is not easy to sit in this position. It is not only the extraordinary spells, but also the rock-solid cheeks.

Before him, the top ten martial arts in the comprehension circle resisted the courtesy. The sects are intertwined, and no one can change the land by one's own strength. What's more, all of you are full of classics, even if you want to seal your own title, you will also scrutinize the history of the official, afraid of carrying on the name of the millennium.

But the ink burns differently.

He is a rogue.

What others did not dare to do, he eventually did. Drinking the hottest wines in the world, the most beautiful woman in the world, first became the lord of the cultivation of the immortal world, "Tai Xianjun", and then to self-proclaimed emperor.

The people are crouching.

All those who did not want to kneel were killed by him. In those years when he dominated the world, the realm of cultivation was a **** sorrow. Countless righteous people went to death, and the Confucianism in the top ten sects was even more difficult.

Later, even the indelible servant was unable to escape the claws, lost in the confrontation with the ink, and was taken back to the palace by the old lovers, no one knows where it is.

The great rivers and mountains of the original Qinghai River suddenly became smoky.

The dog emperor burned the book for a few days, and it was a person who had no taboos. So during his tenure, the absurdity was endless, and he said the year.

When he was the emperor's first three years, the year number "Wang Ba" was thought of when he was sitting at the pond feeding the fish.

In the second three years, the year number "呱", Gain heard the frog in the courtyard in summer, and decided that this is a godsend and can not be disappointed.

The folks of the school had thought that there would be no more miserable years than "Wang Ba" and "呱", but they still knew nothing about the ink rain.

In the third three years, the local community began to make a fuss. Whether it was Buddhism, Taoism, or spiritual repair, those who could not stand the violent violent/political affairs began to rush to fight for the uprising.

So, this time, the ink burned seriously for a long time, after drafting countless times, a year of the world of screaming ghosts and gods was born - "戟 ”.

The meaning is good, the two words that the First Emperor tried to figure out, and took the good intention of "striking." It’s just that the folks are a bit embarrassed when they say it.

Especially illiterate, it sounds even more embarrassing.

In the first year, I called the first year of the singer. How do I hear how it is like a chicken?

The second year is called chicken / / two years.

Chicken / / Pakistan for three years.

Someone closed the door and screamed: "It's ridiculous, why don't you come to an old age! After seeing a man, you don't have to ask the other person, Geng, ask the other person is a few years old chicken / / Ba! The hundred-year-old man is called A hundred years old chicken / / Pakistan!"

It’s been hard to get through for three years, and the year of “戟戟” has finally turned over.

The people of the world are waiting for the fourth year of the emperor's trepidation, but this time the ink burned but did not think about it, because in this year, the turmoil of the comprehension world finally broke out. He has swallowed up the rivers and lakes of the past ten years, and the heroes of the genius, finally joined together and formed a million-strong army of Haohao Tangtang, forcing the palace to emperor.

The emperor does not need the emperor.

Especially do not need such a tyrant.

After several months of **** logging, the Rebels finally came to the foot of the dead mountain. The rugged mountains in the middle of the mountain are haunted all the year round, and the ink-burning palace stands at the top.

The arrow is on the string, overthrowing the storm / / politics only left the last blow. But this shot is also the most dangerous. Seeing the victory and the light again, the original allies with the enemy are beginning to be different. When the old emperor is destroyed, the new order will be rebuilt. No one wants to spend his own strength at this time. Therefore, no one is willing to be the pioneer of this battle and take the lead to attack the mountain.

They are all afraid that this savage tyrant will suddenly descend from the sky, revealing the bright white teeth of the beasts, and the people who dare to attack his palace will break open and bite into slag.

Some people looked at each other and said: "The ink is weak and powerful, and it is poisonous. We are still cautious and don't take his way."

The generals have joined together.

However, at this time, a young man with a very handsome face and a glamorous face came out. He wore a silver-blue sash, a lion's belt, a high-end ponytail, and a delicate silver hairpin at the bottom.

The young man’s face is very ugly. He said: “It’s all at the foot of the mountain. You’re still swearing and refusing to go up here. Is it because you want to wait for the ink to rain and climb down? It’s a waste of fear!”

He said this, the people around him blew open.

"What did Xue Gongzi say? What is it that is courageous? Every soldier is a family matter, and he is cautious. If you are not like you, who is responsible for the incident?"

Immediately someone ridiculed: "Oh, Xue Gongzi is the pride of the sky, we are just ordinary people, since the pride of the sky can not wait to compete with the people of the world, then you just go up the mountain first. We put wine in the mountains There is a banquet, so it’s good to wait for you to lift the head of the ink rain."

These words are agitated. An old monk in the Allied Forces quickly stopped the young people who were about to attack, and changed to a nostalgic face, and eloquently advised:

"Xue Gongzi, please listen to the old saying, the old man knows that you and the ink rain are very deep. But the matter of forcing the palace is of great importance. You must consider it for everyone, but don't be tempted."

The "Xue Gongzi" of the public is called Xue Meng. More than ten years ago, he used to be the young leader of the aunt.

However, when the time passed, the tiger fell to Pingyang, but he had to endure the ridicule and ridicule of these people, only to see the side of the mountain.

Xue Meng’s face was distorted, his lips trembled, but he tried to press his knees and asked, “When are you waiting for it?”

"At least look at the movement again."

"Yes, what if there is an ambush in the rain?"

The old monk and the muddy old monk also advised: "Xue Gongzi don't worry, we have already reached the foot of the mountain, or be careful. Anyway, the ink rain has been trapped in the palace, and it is not coming down. He is now the end of the strong, If we can't get into the climate, why should we act rashly in order to figure out this moment? There are so many people in the mountains, so many people are famous. If you lose your life, who can be responsible?"

Xue Meng suddenly angered: "Responsible? Then I ask you, who can be responsible for the life of my master? I burned his house for ten years! For ten years! Right now, my master is on the mountain. How can you let me wait?"

As soon as he heard Xue Meng mention his master, everyone's face could not be hanged.

Some people are exposed to the twilight, while others are left and right.

"A decade ago, the smoldering self-sufficiency stepped on Xianjun, and it was not counted in the 72nd city of Confucianism. It was also necessary to annihilate the remaining nine sects. Later, the ink burned the emperor, and you must kill them, the two catastrophe, and finally Who is blocking him? If it’s not for me, I’m still alive, can you still live? Can you stand here and talk to me?”

In the end, someone coughed twice and said softly: "Xue Gongzi, you don't want to be angry. The things of Chu Zongshi, we... are very guilty and grateful. But as you said, he has been under house arrest for ten years, if There is nothing long......... So, you have been waiting for ten years, and you are not in a hurry for this moment. Are you right?"

"Yes? Go to your mother!"

The man opened his eyes: "How can you marry?"

"Why don't I marry you? The master respects him and dies. It is actually to save you... this..."

He can no longer say it, his throat choked: "I am not worth it for him."

At the end of the discussion, Xue Meng slammed his head, his shoulders trembled, and he held back tears.

"We have not said that we can't save Chu Master..."

"Yeah, everyone remembers the goodness of Master Chu, and has not forgotten that Xue Gongzi’s words like this are really deducting the ungrateful hat for everyone, so that people can’t afford it."

"But then, the ink is not the apprentice of Chu Zongshi?" Someone whispered, "I want to say that in fact, the apprentice is wrong, he should be responsible for the master, the so-called son does not teach the father, teach the teacher Indolence. This is nothing wrong, and there is nothing to complain about."

This is a bit mean, and someone immediately stops to stop: "What crazy words! Manage your mouth!"

Turned his head and greeted Xue Meng.

"Xue Gongzi, don't worry..."

Xue Meng suddenly interrupted his words and witnessed: "How can I not be anxious? You stand and talk without back pain, but that is my master! My!!! I have not seen him for so many years. I don't know if he is dead or alive, I don't know how he is doing, I am standing here, what do you think is for?"

He gasped and his eyes were red: "Don't you wait so long, the ink will rain down on your own, and beg you in front of you?"

"Xue Gongzi..."

"In addition to the Master, I have no one in the world." Xue Meng broke the corner of the old monk, and muttered, "You don't go, I go."

Throwing these words, he went alone on the mountain with one sword and one sword.

The cold and damp cold wind is mixed with thousands of thousands of sounds. In the thick fog, there are countless ghosts and ghosts whispering in the mountains and forests.

Xue Meng went to the top of the mountain alone, and the majestic palace where the ink burned was lit by the peaceful candlelight in the night. Suddenly he saw the three towers in front of the Tongtian Tower. He walked closer and saw the first grave with green grass. The tombstone was smashed with eight dogs and the eight tombs of the Queen of the Emperor Chuji.

The second grave, as opposed to the "steamed queen", is a new plaque. The seal is just covered. The monument is smashed with the tomb of the Song Dynasty.

"..."

If you change it more than ten years ago and see this ridiculous scene, Xue Meng will not help but laugh out loud.

At that time, he and the ink burned under the door of a master, ink burning is the most appreciative of the jokes, even if Xue Meng had long seen him not pleasing to the eye, but also from time to time will be amused by him.

This steamed Queen oil blasted the Queen, and did not know what the ghost was. It was probably the tombstone that Mo Dacai gave to his two wives. The style was similar to that of "Wang Ba", "呱" and "戟". But why did he take these two nicknames for his queen? It is not known.

Xue Meng looked at the third grave.

Under the night, the tomb was open, and there was a coffin in it, but there was no one in the coffin, and there was no ink on the tombstone.

Just a pot of pear blossoms in front of the grave, a bowl of cold red oil and a handful of dishes, a few dishes of spicy dishes, are all burning things that you love.

Xue Meng stared at it for a while, and suddenly he was shocked. Could it be that the ink rain did not want to resist, had already dug the grave and decided to die?

Cold sweat.

He does not believe it. The person who burns this person has never died until the end. He never knows what is exhausting, what is giving up, and what he is doing, will surely fight with the insurgents, how can it be...

In the past ten years, the ink has stood at the peak of power, what has been seen, and what has happened.

neither knows.

Xue Meng turned and fell into the night, striding toward the brightly lit Wushan Temple.

In the Wushan Hall, the eyes are closed and pale.

Xue Meng guessed it well, he is determined to die. The tomb outside is the one he had dug for himself. Before an hour, he dismissed the servant by means of transmission, and he took the poison. He is very high, and the toxicity of the poison/medicine is particularly slow in his body, so the pain of the internal organs being eaten and melted is becoming more and more vivid.

"Oh," the door opened.

The ink burned without looking up, only hoarsely said: "Xue Meng. It's you, are you here?"

Above the golden bricks in the temple, Xue Meng stood up, and the horsetails were scattered and flickered.

In the past, the same door gathered again. There was no expression on the ink, and he sat on his side, and the slender and thick eyelashes fell to his eyes.

Everyone said that he is a three-headed and six-armed demonic demon, but he is actually very good-looking, the nose is soft and the lip color is thin, and the sky grows a bit warm and sweet, and everyone looks like he is a good-natured person. .

When Xue Meng saw his face, he knew that he was already poisoned. I don’t know what it’s like, but I’m still trying to stop it. I’m still trying to squeeze my fist. I just ask, “What about the teacher?”

"……what?"

Xue Meng Li said: "I ask you, Master!!!! Yours, mine, our master?!"

"Oh." The ink burned and snorted, and finally slowly opened the black eyes with some purple eyes, falling across the layers of the years, falling on Xue Meng.

"Actually, since Kunlun stepped into the snow palace, you and Master, have not met each other for five years."

The ink burned and said, smiled slightly.

"Xue Meng, do you miss him?"

"Do not talk nonsense! Give him back to me!"

The ink burned him calmly, and endured the pain in his stomach, mocking his mouth and leaning against the back of the throne.

There was a burst of blackness in front of him, and he almost felt that he could clearly feel the viscera being distorted, dissolved, and turned into stinky blood.

The ink burns and lazy: "Return to you? Stupid. You don't think about it. I and the Master are so hateful, how can I allow him to live in this world."

"You-!" Xue Meng suddenly had no blood, no eyes, and step back. "You can't... you won't..."

"I don't know what?" The ink burned and laughed. "You are talking about it. I don't know why."

Xue Meng trembled: "But he is yours... He is your master after all... how can you get your hands!"

He looked up at the ink burning on the top of the emperor. There are Fuxi in the heavens, and there are Jurassic in the earth, and there is light rain in the world.

However, for Xue Meng, even if the ink burned into the human world, it should not become so.

Xue Meng was trembling, and he hated tears: "Mini is raining, are you still human? He used to..."

The ink burned lightly: "What happened to him?"

Xue Meng trembled: "How did he treat you, you should know..."

The ink burned and laughed: "You want to remind me that he used to beat me to the body, and let me kneel down and plead guilty in front of everyone. Still want to remind me that he used to be for you, for the irrelevant, to stop in front of me. How many times has it prevented me from doing good things, badly?

Xue Meng painfully shook his head: "..."

No, the ink burns.

Think about it, you let go of your awkward hatred. Look back at you.

He used to practice martial arts and protect you.

He used to teach you to read and read poems.

He used to cook for you, clumsy, and it hurts.

He used to... He used to wait for you to come back day and night, one person from dark...to dawn...

So many words are stuck in the throat, and in the end, Xue Meng only choked:

"He...he has a bad temper and is hard to talk, but even I know that he treats you so well, why are you... how can you bear it..."

Xue Mengyang started, and he endured too many tears, but his throat blocked him and he couldn’t say anymore.

After a long pause, the temple sighed with a soft sigh. He said, "Yes."

"But Xue Meng. Do you know?" The burning voice looked very tired. "He used to kill the only person I loved. The only one."

Long dead.

The stomach hurts like a burning fire, and the flesh and blood is torn into thousands of pieces of broken residue.

"However, it is a good mentor. His body is stopped at the Honglian otter in Nanfeng. Lying in the lotus, it is well preserved, just like falling asleep." The ink burned and calmed. When he said this, he was expressionless, his fingers resting on the long red sandalwood, and the knuckles were pale and blue.

"His body is all dependent on my spiritual power to keep it from rot. If you think about him, don't bother with me here, don't die, let's go."

There is a sweetness in the throat, and the coughing sounds a few times. When you open it again, there is blood between the lips and teeth, but the eyes are relaxed.

He said hoarsely: "Go. Go see him. If it is late, I will die, and if the spirit is broken, he will be gray."

After finishing this sentence, he suddenly closed his eyes, the poison attack, and the fire.

The pain is so heartbreaking, and even the sorrowful sorrows of Xue Meng’s grief have become so far away, as if from the water, across the ocean.

Blood can't stop from the corners of the mouth, the ink burns and squeezes the sleeves, and the muscles are bursting.

Blindly open his eyes, Xue Meng has run far, the kid's light work is not bad, from here to the South Peak, can not spend too much time.

On the last side of the Master, he should have seen it.

The ink burned up and stood up, staggering, and the **** mottled fingers made a mark and sent themselves to the tower of the towering tower of life and death.

At this time, it is the late autumn, the thick and beautiful airflow of the sea otter.

He didn't know why he finally chose to end his sinful life here. However, the flower blossoms are so brilliant, and they are worthy of the glory.

He lay down in the open cockroach, looking up at the flowers at night, silently thanking.

Floating into the sputum, floating on the cheeks. They have been arrogant, as the past has withered.

This life, from the illegitimate child of nothing, has gone through countless times and has become the only emperor of the human world.

He is sinful, full of blood, loves and hates, what he wants, and in the end, nothing is left.

After all, he did not use his word to believe in the words of the horse to give a word to his tombstone. No matter whether it is a stinky "Emperor of the Ages", or ridiculous as "oil explosion" and "steaming", he did not write anything, and the tomb of the Emperor of the Emperor of the Realm, after all, the words did not stay.

A farce that lasted for ten years finally came to an end.

After several more hours, when everyone held up the open torch, it was like a fire snake. When they broke into the imperial palace, they waited for them, but it was the empty Wushan Temple. It was the death of no one, it was the red lotus. Next to it, fell to the ash of the earth, crying to the numbness of Xuemeng.

Also, in front of the Tongtian Tower, the corpse was already cold and drizzle.

The author has something to say: Wait a long time, although there should be someone waiting for it, hahahaha

Updated: Daily ten p.m.