Monument of Life and Death

  Chapter 755 God's Eyes Return To The Sky

  When night comes, heavy rain falls.

  The people who were about to give their lives calmly looked at the rainy night outside the window, but on the contrary, they, bystanders, felt restless.

   Xiaolan's eyes alternated back and forth on the faces of the boy and the girl.

  They are no longer afraid or angry. Six people have the same expression on their faces.

  A strong sense of fate.

  Xiaolan doesn't know what she will see later, but she is actually glad that she has the opportunity to accompany them to the end in this way.

  Believe that other people think the same way.

  Especially ask the spirit.

  Wen Ling stood beside her grandfather, and the grandfather and grandson looked out the window together.

  The raindrops crackled and the rhythm was uneven.

   Xiaolan quietly walked to Grandpa Wenling's side and looked at his profile.

  Grandpa Wenling closed his eyes, his lips moved, as if he was muttering something silently.

   Xiaolan got closer, but couldn't hear her at all.

  Qin Yin walked behind her, held Xiaolan's shoulder, and made a helpless expression at her.

   Before Xiaolan could speak, the surrounding environment suddenly brightened.

  "This..." Qin Yin covered his eyes with his hands.

   Xiaolan squinted his eyes and found that they were still standing where they were, but the sky suddenly lit up.

  Grandpa Wenling is still standing in that position.

  He still kept that position, motionless.

   Xiaolan turned around and looked at the clock on the wall.

  Sure enough, time came to noon the next day.

   Zhizhi got up from the chair, "Ask Mr...."

  Grandpa Wenling suddenly opened his eyes.

  "At this moment..."

  As soon as the voice fell, a loud bang came from not far away, and everyone in the room was shocked.

  Luo Jiutian quickly walked to the window and looked out.

   "Can you see it?" The fool also leaned over.

   "I can't see it," Luo Jiutian shook his head, "but it should be correct..."

  Everyone exchanged glances.

   "Landslide."

  Grandpa Wenling took a long sigh of relief, turned around, and looked at everyone in the house.

   "Let's start preparing."

  Grandpa Wenling seemed to be ten years old, his shoulders slumped weakly, and even the light in those gray pupils seemed to be dimmed.

   The mother-in-law unfolded a velvet package, and inside the package was a small white porcelain cup.

  The girl trembled slightly when she saw the cup, and asked, "Should we put our eyes here?"

  The mother-in-law didn't speak, she just nodded.

  The boy raised his hand and touched his eye socket.

  "Are you leaving now?" Zhizhi asked.

   "No hurry," Grandpa Wenling walked towards the bamboo chair next to the calligraphy table, staggering a bit, "They come in the evening, let's... say goodbye to Weiruo."

  But they failed to see the farewell ceremony of the six people.

  Xiaolan’s eyes had just adjusted to the bright light, and the daylight gradually dimmed, and a little moisture suddenly appeared in the air. Xiaolan closed his eyes, then opened them again, and a cold rain drifted into her eyes.

  Bamboo forest.

  The six people are already sitting in the clearing, forming a regular hexagon, with the porcelain cup placed between them.

  It's getting late, the rain is not heavy, and stars and moons can even be seen from the horizon.

  Their eyes are still there.

   "They are here," the uncle's eyes were slightly closed, and the ears moved, "in the stockade."

   Xiaolan hurriedly looked in the direction of the stockade.

  But she can only see the darkness.

  Aunt Zhizhi suddenly cried.

   "Zhizhi..."

   "No, I have no regrets," Zhizhi reached out to wipe his tears, but the tears flowed more and more without thinking, "I just thought, I will never see my child again..."

  When she heard this, the boy also choked up.

  The girl lowered her head deeply.

   "But from now on," the mother-in-law said softly, "Your children will always be safe."

   "Yeah..." Zhizhi sniffed, "It's all worth it."

   "Ask sir, do you want to start?" Uncle asked.

  Grandpa Wenling looked at the depths of the bamboo forest blankly, as if he hadn’t heard their conversation.

  For a while, a vague character sound floated out of his mouth.

   "Spirit..."

   "What?" Uncle frowned and asked.

   "It's nothing," Grandpa Wenling retracted his eyes, looked at them all one by one, and finally smiled relievedly, "Let's get started."

   Xiao Lan silently grabbed his hand.

  Wen Ling's breathing became a bit short.

  The six took a deep look at each other.

  This night, this rain, this bamboo forest, these people.

  This is the last look.

  After that, the six people raised their hands almost at the same time, covering their palms over their eyes.

   Fortunately, there is no **** picture.

   Numerous golden and white star points emerged from the palms covered by six people.

  "The eyes of the prophet, return to the gods..."

  The six people chanted neatly, and the six different voices blended together, and it sounded like Sanskrit sounds around the ears.

  "Bless me, Sanyan, safe for a hundred years..."

   Xiaolan seemed to see that with one hand, this power derived from sacrifice has enveloped the distant Sanyan new home.

  This alien race is suffering both blessings and curses.

  Weakness and short life.

  But they have their own way of survival.

  Actually speaking, it is the same as all living beings.

  Sacrifice in exchange for protection.

   "It hurts..." the boy groaned tremblingly.

   Zhizhi and his uncle's bodies also trembled violently, two lines of liquid slid down their cheeks, not knowing whether it was tears or rain.

  But no one put their hands down.

  Golden glow converged to one place in mid-air, drifted away from the ground, and spread to meet the stars above.

  Gradually, the golden light flowing out of the palms of the six people became less.

   Baomu suddenly turned his head away.

   "Someone!"

  Sure enough, in the darkness of the forest, several black figures walked out.

  Wen Ling stared at one of them, raised her hand, "It's him!"

  He pointed to a man wearing a silhouette black mask.

   Xiaolan counted, and a total of four people appeared, but I don’t know if there are anyone staying in the stockade.

  All four are men, all in black and wearing black masks.

  The man walking in the front was slightly shorter. He ran over a few steps and sighed first when he saw everything in front of him clearly.

   "It's crazy..."

   A sneer squeezed out of Grandpa Wenling’s throat, "Mad man, it’s not us."

  "Didn’t they ask for their eyes?" The man that Wenling pointed at walked to the short man and asked, "Do you want to do it now?"

   "No need to do it," Grandpa Wen Ling groaned, and took away the palm covering his eyes, "The Prophet's eyes are here. Take it if you want."

  The other five people also took off their palms.

   Their eyes disappeared.

   Xiaolan looked at the porcelain cup with a probe.

  Six pairs of **** pupils are placed in them, all looking at the sky.

  The man reached out and grabbed the porcelain cup.

   "Stop it!"

  The short man yelled, and the movements of the four stopped.

"what happened again?"

   "That is no longer the eyes of the prophet," he said coldly, "and, you can't take it. If you take it, you have to die."

  (End of this chapter)