Mistakenly Saving the Villain

Yue Wuhuan spent all his thoughts and made a super beautiful Phoenix kite. It was one person tall and two people long with wings spread out. It was painted with gold and color, and it was lifelike. It was equipped with a bamboo flute. If the wind blows through it, it will emit. The long and loud sound similar to the song of a bird.

Song Qingshi was so happy that he wanted to fly into the sky, scratching his head and not knowing how to praise, desperately said: "Wuhuan, you are so kind, this kite is hundreds of times stronger than the one I bought."

He smiled and said: "Lord, the one you bought without a bamboo flute should be called a paper kite. With a bamboo flute, it is called a kite."

Song Qingshi took out the beautiful paper kite he bought, checked it, and was surprised: "It really is."

Although he likes colorful things, compared to the kites he bought, Wuhuan’s kites taste like a phoenix and a sparrow, one in the sky and the other in the ground. The blind knows which one looks good. The more Song Qingshi looked at the paper kite he bought, the more unpleasant he was. When he was about to throw it away, he saw Rong Ye come to give the students the pill homework. He was very serious and responsible, so he gave the paper kite to him casually. Rong Ye seemed very happy.

Children shouldn't care about playing with paper kites or kites, right?

He is a magnificent immortal, an adult who is almost a thousand years old, of course he wants to play the most beautiful kite!

Song Qingshi happily dragged Yue Wuhuan to the Xinyi Mountain. He liked watching the changes of clouds, and more like the beautiful things flying in the clouds, such as birds and kites. When he was a child, he also secretly watched children fly a kite. The swallow kite flew so high that it almost entered the sky. The children yelled and laughed constantly. It felt very interesting.

It is best to fly a kite with two people. One person holds the kite and waits for the wind to send a signal, and let the other person pull the line to run.

For fun, Song Qingshi didn't let Yue Wuhuan install any auxiliary formations on the kite. He also banned all wind protection and floating techniques. He wanted to use mortal methods to fly the kite with natural wind. For this, he also analyzed the wind speed and wind direction on Xinyi Mountain this season, scientifically judged the most suitable location for flying the kite, and geared up to fly the kite high.

The two arrived at Xinyi Mountain and placed the kite on the prepared flat slope.

Song Qingshi took out a notebook from the mustard bag, carefully re-read the kite-flying tips, recalculated the mathematical formula according to the current wind, and estimated the height and position of the kite, so as not to cause any thread to be entangled in the tree. Oolong.

Yue Wuhuan peeked at the content written in the notebook and couldn't help laughing.

Song Qingshi was confused by Xueshen's laugh, and quickly checked the formula twice to confirm whether he had written the wrong number or calculated the wrong question.

After confirming that the formula was correct, he found the correct position, let Yue Wuhuan hold the kite for him, and then ran. The first time I ran too fast, the kite rolled on the ground, and the second time I successfully set the kite up. Yue Wuhuan stood behind him, taught him how to retract and release the string, and patiently lifted the kite up little by little.

The beautiful phoenix slowly rises, dragging its long golden red tail feathers, using the wind to break through the clouds, making a crisp sound.

The color of life appeared in the white clouds, and it was no longer dull and tasteless.

Song Qingshi looked at the white clouds and the phoenix kite in the sky, suddenly a little awkward. He felt that this scene was very familiar, as if he had seen it thousands of times but couldn't remember the content. Some things carved deep in the bones are about to move around, trying to break free from the shackles and run out...

In my mind, strange feelings are constantly suppressed, constantly popping up, and struggling again and again.

Song Qingshi felt a little pain in his head, but his eyes were still inseparable from the phoenix among the white clouds, stubbornly trying to find the answer.

Suddenly, the kite's thread broke, and the Phoenix lost his balance.

Yue Wuhuan looked at the disconnection in his hand and was a little surprised. He didn't think he would make such a mistake.

Song Qingshi dropped the coil and Yu Huo leaped into the air to chase him. He watched the kite staggering and was about to fall into the swamp. He felt anxious and made a pounce. He finally caught the kite before it fell into the mud. However, the kite was too Great, the phoenix's tail feathers fell down, still dragged into the swamp, and it was quite dirty.

He flew back griefly with the kite in his hand, and handed it to Yue Wuhuan, and asked sadly, "Is it because I failed to set it up?"

"No," Yue Wuhuan carefully checked the disconnection of the kite. "I was afraid of the disconnection, so I deliberately used a sturdy silver thread, and I checked it during winding. The quality of this thread should be OK." He stopped suddenly He heard the sound and smiled and showed Song Qingshi the kite string, "Look, this little guy did a bad thing."

There was a small golden ant crawling on the silver thread. The kite's thread was slightly damaged by the golden ant and could not bear the weight.

Golden ants are common creatures on Xinyi Mountain. They climbed up the kite by coincidence, accidentally bit the string, and the kite fell because of this. Things are so reasonable and reasonable...

Song Qingshi was stunned: "So, is this a coincidence?"

"Well, let's go back first," Yue Wuhuan comforted, "This paint can't be cleaned. I will replace the soiled part later and install a stronger thread."

What is the probability that the ants will bite the kite string?

One in a billion?

Song Qingshi suddenly remembered the incredible thunderstorm that Yue Wuhuan had when he was building the foundation, and remembered that Yue Wuhuan once said that he had missed many times by coincidence that he had discovered the true face of Xie Que. He even remembered his first encounter with An Long. , A strange wind blew the precious herbs he finally picked into the dirty and foul swamp, so he pinched his nose and approached and found the half-devil child buried in it.

Why did the system pick his soul fragment for the task? Why would you send him back?

Are these all coincidences?

Song Qingshi stopped and glanced at the sky suspiciously, always feeling that he had forgotten something very important.

...

Yue Wuhuan went back to repair the kite.

Song Qingshi was restless, and his mind was full of phoenix kites in the sky. He didn't even bother to do toxicology tests. After feeding the mice, he simply walked out of the laboratory for a walk. He first wandered to the entrance of the school, and seriously inspected the students' research for a while, then went to the library to turn a few pages, and finally walked to the ancestral hall inexplicably.

The ancestral hall has been refurbished, with a new look, clean and tidy, the picture scrolls are unfolded and hung on the wall, and melons, fruits and flowers are offered on the incense table.

Although the first teacher accepted a disciple who was not so good, the disciple accepted him a good disciple who was well-behaved and sensible, which was considered filial piety.

Song Qingshi remembered that he hadn't come to see Master Xian for ten years, and was a little embarrassed, so he ran in and got three sticks of incense, and then looked at the tribute a little greedy, and talked to Master Xianshi, and took out a big red peach. Enjoy the picture scroll left by the first teacher while eating.

The more Wuhuan pick peaches are full of moisture, sweet and delicious.

The things that Master Xian drew are really bad, they are about the same level as him, and I can't see what it is.

This painting is placed in the ancestral hall, and thieves don’t want to come in.

Song Qingshi pondered for a while, but still felt that the painting should be put away, so that there would be more disciples of Wangyao Wanggu. Everyone took filial piety and paid homage to the handwritings of the master ancestor every three times, only to see such an ugly and nonsensical painting... Do you still need the face of Xianshi? Do you want the dignity of Yaowanggu?

He should find a few medical books from the inheritance of his masters and accept the worship instead of this painting.

Song Qingshi took the painting down and brought it back to Fuling Palace, ready to put it in the treasure house.

The sky is getting darker, and his heart is getting darker and darker.

The task of the system is no longer hopeful. The more unhappy the condition, the hope of treatment will not be seen. The only thing he does now is not to give up, stay with him, and see if time can bring any new opportunities. If it doesn't work, try to prevent it from getting worse. The big deal is that he won't go out in the future, stay in Medicine King Valley, and spend his life with Yue Wuhuan, trying to make him happy every day and make him happy.

However, he felt that this was far from enough...

Song Qingshi lay on the bed and opened the picture scroll, looking up and down, left and right, imagining that the master can give him some inspiration, such as teaching a way to eliminate painful memories without hurting his brain in his dream, or traveling through time and space. Ask him to go back to the past and directly hammer to death, pull the person back, and put it in the Medicine King Valley, coaxing and holding it every day, so that he can live happily. Maybe the more Wuhuan has no mental obstacles, he will eat sweet, soft things every day.

It's a pity that the master of Yaowanggu knows nothing but cures diseases and refines alchemy. He doesn't even leave any medical books on psychotherapy...

What a useless master!

Song Qingshi relied on the fact that his master couldn't hear what was in his heart, and he grumbled boldly. He casually threw the picture scroll on the bedside table, opened the luminous beads, and continued to organize the pharmacy materials, writing fascinatingly, and when he turned around, he found that he had accidentally dropped a large ball of ink on the picture scroll.

He subconsciously wanted to wipe it. As a result, the scroll was too old and it was already fragile. A big hole was wiped out with a little effort. He panicked, his hand shook, and he tore it in half...

Song Qingshi was dumbfounded...

He tremblingly held the broken picture, not knowing what to do.

Can the omnipotent apprentice repair paintings?

Can he repaint a picture secretly and pretend that nothing happened?

Song Qingshi was so panicked that he wanted to dig a hole to hide the bad things. The more unhappy he was, he pretended to be dead without asking, but he felt dishonest.

Suddenly, the broken scroll gave off a little golden light, like a golden firefly...

Song Qingshi looked closely and found that it was a rare good thing with golden light of merit. Because of his medical studies, the pill that he developed has saved many people, and he has gained some merits, which is no stranger to this. It is said that there was a monk who directly ascended to the throne of God because of merit.

Why is there a golden light of merit in a painting in a mere paltry?

Song Qing picked up the painting in a puzzled manner and studied it. Unexpectedly, the golden light of merit in the painting rushed to him, frantically blending into his body.

His eyes are dark and his consciousness is blurred...

An endless sea of ​​clouds appeared in the sea of ​​knowledge. In the depths of the sea of ​​clouds, there was a house like a snow cave, deserted and deserted, with nothing but a mountain of scrolls. Song Qingshi saw a young man in the house who looked a lot like him. He seemed to be expressionless, like a porcelain doll, sitting in the house, reading books, reading one after another...

In the evening, the boy suddenly moved, and a little expectant light appeared in his eyes, as if a porcelain doll had come to life.

He slowly walked to the window, leaned on the window sill, secretly looking at the end of the sky, as if waiting for something.

At the end of the sky, a golden red glow gradually rose. It was a phoenix made from the most dazzling flame in the world, dragging nine golden red flame tail feathers, slowly flying closer, and then passing his window sill. The beautiful light illuminates his ignorant eyes and shines into his deserted room.

The monotonous sea of ​​clouds came to life in this magnificent beauty.

This is the only joy in his boring life.

The teenager is waiting every day, watching every day, waiting day after day, watching year after year...

...

Song Qingshi was awakened by Yue Wuhuan. When he woke up, he found himself lying on the table, and his whole consciousness was dumbfounded.

"Honorable Lord, what's the matter?" Yue Wuhuan reached out and wiped his eyes.

"Wuhuan, I have a dream." Song Qingshi found that his eyes were full of tears, and he couldn't stop it. He murmured, "It was a dream at first, and then it turned into a nightmare. It's a terrible nightmare..."

"The nightmare is not real," Yue Wuhuan was panicked by his inexplicable sadness, comforted for a long time, and finally asked, "What did you dream of?"

Song Qingshi raised his head and looked closely at the most beautiful phoenix eyes in the world. He couldn't see enough. He tried his best to stop the sadness, clutched Yu Wuhuan's sleeve tightly, and whimpered:

"Wuhuan, I dreamed that the Phoenix was gone."

"Wuhuan, I want to get him back."

"Wuhuan, I will never give up."