Those limbs covered with ancient porcelain scales made him think of crushed fragments of oracle bones.
Moonlight patterns flowed across its chest and abdomen, like both an umbilical cord and a suture, illuminating the black tissue fluid that continually seeped out where the monster met the sky.
At the focal point of the sixteen lines of sight, the plant was secreting rainbow light.
Its leaves are the purest emerald, its stems are covered with varicose veins, and its inflorescences are a constant reorganization of every color named by humans.
Lou Xun felt that his cornea was crystallizing, becoming another specimen embedded in the storm.
"I hope nothing happened to your elder brother?" Blore was a little worried. He signaled with his eyes that Bai Dilouxun's condition might not be good.
But Bai Di didn't say anything, he just shook his head slightly.
Ma Tuan and Nan Song both stood up nervously.
The little sea otter makes cute whimpering sounds.
At this moment, time collapsed into countless fragments, like a shattered prism, reflecting all the unchosen forks in his life.
Fragments of memory fell to the ground like glass, reflecting a dazzling light in the depths of time.
He remembered the palace that day - the vermilion lacquered columns reached from heaven to earth, the golden scales of coiled dragons breathed in the shadows, and the caisson on the ceiling was painted with thousands of stars, each one made of powdered South China Sea pearls and mixed with gold foil.
The agarwood throne hung high above the nine steps, covered with the fur of the Snow Ridge Black Fox, and the man was sitting there. The man was old, and he could smell the scent of aging from the man.
But the shadow cast by the crown he wore covered half of his face, but it could not hide the pressure emanating from his body, like a three-inch unsheathed national sword.
But when his eyes fell on the small figure beside the man, the majesty of the entire palace suddenly became blurred.
Bai Di - at that time he was just a child like a snowball, with a brocade robe embroidered with dark patterns wrapped around his tender body, like a white camellia transplanted into a golden and jade cage.
The most ironic thing was the way the man looked at him.
The supreme being who clearly held the power of life and death in the interstellar world actually trembled subtly as he half-knelt down.
The tall and luxurious crown swayed before his eyes, and the seven tiny pearls on it made a fine jade sound, like a sudden rain.
He still remembers the man's taut jawline and the whitened knuckles on his knees - as if he was not facing a child, but an ancient prophecy from the inscription on a bronze tripod.
"This is Bai Di." The man's voice produced a strange echo in the empty hall, but the ending tone revealed a subtle hesitation.
He didn't understand what it meant at the time.
It was not until one snowy night after he moved into this palace, when he saw the expression he unconsciously revealed in the bronze mirror, that he suddenly understood - it turned out that when his seven-year-old self looked at Bai Di, what was frozen on his face was the compassion and coldness of the gods and Buddhas when they had mercy on all living beings.
And the child who looked like a snowball was poking his head out from behind the man.
The shadow of a white plum tree outside the hall cut diagonally across the golden brick floor and fell on the child's upturned face, turning his pupils into transparent amber.
At this moment, all the gilded coiled dragons and black jade Chi patterns became a blurred background, leaving only those eyes, clear enough to illuminate the intertwined trajectory of fate.
He stood here, yet seemed to exist at the nodes of tens of millions of parallel time and space at the same time.
At a certain moment, he glimpsed the outline of the truth - it was not a specific answer, but a suffocatingly huge "existence", like an undercurrent under the deep sea, like a gravitational field at the edge of the universe, silently swallowing up all the languages that tried to define it.
destiny?
Destiny?
He suddenly realized that he might never have really had a "choice".
Just as a speck of dust cannot determine the direction of the wind, just as a planet cannot deviate from its orbit.
He came here not because of will, but because of necessity - just as light will eventually fall into a black hole, just as the tides will eventually surrender to the moon.
But at this moment, standing at the intersection of chaos and reality, he suddenly smiled.
The truth may never be known, but even so, he still stands here, staring into the abyss, and the abyss stares back at him with the echo of thousands of worlds.
The sound of the black elf floating in the air wiping the glass suddenly became extremely distant.
Lou Xun realized that he was holding his brother's wrist, and the pulse beating under the skin of his palm was like a trapped butterfly.
He laughed again, rubbing the light scar on the other person's wrist with his fingertips - no matter from which time and space the scars were, they would eventually converge into the same river.
Just like the light spots that penetrated the stained glass at this moment, they would eventually fall on the oak table between them, melting the two shadows into the same ball of warm mist.
Time twisted and collapsed around Lou Xun, like a piece of silk being madly torn by invisible hands.
In just a short moment, it seemed as if thousands of years had slipped through his fingers - the afterimage of the collapsed star tracks flashed in the depths of his pupils, and wrinkles like ancient characters appeared and disappeared on his skin.
But the moment Blore blinked, everything returned to stillness, as if the vision just now was just an illusion left on the retina.
The four people at the table exchanged glances, and silence froze in the air.
The flickering candlelight cast their shadows on the wall, but those shadows moved slowly with a strange delay, as if dragged down by some sticky time.
A fine chill ran down the back of Blore's neck. He knew the feeling—like the electric charge in the air before a storm, like the shudder of a beast at the edge of the abyss when it smells the remains of its own kind.
Something is approaching.
Not from outside the door, not from outside the window, but from the folds of time, from the cracks that were accidentally torn apart by Lou Xun.
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