Ying Shao is a Girl

"Yeah." Ying Junchu responded softly.

Soften your tone.

But still cold.

She sat back on the brown sofa, her eyes slightly narrowed, and her face looked tired.

After a long flight, I drove here by myself.

very tired.

It's very tiring.

"Mr. Ying, are you tired?"

Ling Yiche asked with concern, staring at her with a pair of crystal clear eyes.

Ying Junchu raised his heavy eyelids and glanced at the obedient young man beside him.

After more than ten seconds, she responded.

"Um."

She didn't really want to talk.

Can't you tell if you're tired?

Either you ask knowingly or you are blind.

"Then...have you had dinner?"

"No." She closed her eyes again.

Fatigue sets in.

"Well, you should have a good rest, I'm going to cook."

"Mr. Ying, I'll call you when I'm ready."

"Yeah." Ying Junchu replied perfunctorily.

Why does this guy talk so much?

He even stopped letting people sleep!

Perhaps because he was too happy, Ling Yiche didn't notice Ying Junchu's impatience at all.

"By the way, how about... you go upstairs and rest, you will catch a cold here..."

The young man's voice was gentle, and warmth spread in his moist eyes like a deer.

This time Ying Junchu stopped talking at all.

This guy talks a lot. If you don't pay attention to him, he won't talk anymore.

She was really sleepy.

And too lazy to move.

The evening sunlight shines on her through the bright floor-to-ceiling windows.

Warm.

Good for sleeping.

The night is swallowing the dusk.

Ling Yiche didn't feel disappointed when he saw that Ying Junchu didn't pay attention to him.

He quietly went upstairs to get a soft and warm quilt, and carefully covered her with the quilt.

Gently smooth the edges of the quilt.

Well, that way she won't catch a cold.

Then he confidently got into the kitchen to cook for Ying Junchu.

This time Ling Yiche was a bit smarter.

There was no question about what Ying Jun ate for the first time.

Because he knows.

According to Ying Junchu's temperament, he would definitely answer casually.

So he did what he usually does best.

The sun is still moving quickly to the west.

At this time, the kitchen in the west was also filled with golden light.

The delicate brows and eyes of the young man dressed in white were filled with smiles.

The night sky is still swallowing up the dusk tirelessly and quickly.

-

Ying Junchu soon fell asleep.

There are lush green trees and brilliant flowers, and a clear stream flows from the depths of the flowers and trees into the gaps between the rocks.

The sound of birds chirping in my ears is endless, the bamboo forest lines the paths, and the gurgling water flows.

The breeze is not dry and the sun is just right.

Such a warm and vibrant scene made her tiredness slowly dissipate.

All the limbs and bones seemed to have warmed up.

Feel comfortable both physically and mentally.

A small figure walked slowly towards her.

A young man dressed in white holds a flower in his hands.

The petals are three-pointed and red as blood.

His white hands were covered with dense and overlapping scars visible to the naked eye, old and new.

The wound is still dripping with bright red blood, and the blood nourishes the flower.

The roots of the flower greedily sucked the blood from his hand, and the petals became increasingly red and delicate.

"Chuchu, this is the prophecy flower. I came here to find it..."

The boy's voice was soft and familiar.

She couldn't see his face clearly, it was hazy, with a soft outline vaguely outlined.

But she could feel that the boy was smiling.

Ying Junchu instinctively stretched out his hand to take the flower in the young man's hand.

The moment her fingertips touched the petals, white light suddenly appeared.

The scene changes.

Dark clouds rolled in the sky, and thunder and lightning tore an ugly and hideous hole in the closed sky. Rivers of blood flowed around, and millions of corpses were lying around.

The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, which was depressing and terrifying.

It was as if everything in heaven and earth was frozen at this moment.

When she saw it clearly, there was a long sword stuck in the young man's heart. Blood gurgled along the edge of the sword, dyeing his white clothes red, like a poppy in full bloom.

A pair of azure eyes crashed into her calm peach blossom eyes.

His blue eyes were filled with smiles, and the young man's eyes collided with hers, making her feel as if she was touching the sharp blade of time.