As a writer, Pan Ting is the most sensitive type among men. At the beginning, he felt uncomfortable with various diseases and symptoms. After seeing more, he gradually adapted. Later, he felt that under the influence of Baidu, he had no idea what to do with his imagination. He could not be a genuine doctor. You Fang's doctor had no problem - his main skill was to memorize the symptoms and treatment plans of the disease, and the route of practicing medicine was to shoot one shot and change another place.

The large screen keeps circulating. Spaces, fill, page turn, spaces.

Pan Ting's impatience was slowly calming down. Even he himself didn't know that this was another brief compromise with reality. He accumulated resentment and waited for the next outbreak, but he really saw the reality clearly and completely gave in.

Sa'er's strength made him feel that he seemed to be still there that day, locked in the corner, unable to move, and unable to breathe. He wanted to resist, but could not exert force. The Aq spirit in his bones played a role in time and convinced himself that no matter what, at least the Glorious Clan is safe, and this race that has reached the extremely high level of civilization in spirit will continue.

Although, when we met again, his friends might have been gone.

There is no difference between day and night in space.

Pan Ting didn't know how many days had passed, and he didn't ask. When he accumulated enough creation value, the system would automatically upgrade to level 60 and give rewards. He suddenly thought that he had only received two rewards after the system was upgraded so many times. The size of the creator had not changed. So, where did these rewards go during the upgrade?

When the reward inquiry option pops up, Pan Ting looked at Zaozi and found it was looking at Saer.

Saer looked at the options. There were five rewards at level 60, and you could choose both. He looked at the three options related to the Creator and thought for a while: "Telection can speed up your journey. You can learn it. The treatment has no effect except for tampering with the fate of others without authorization. It is more appropriate to upgrade the invisibility technique."

He was very attentive and generous in front of him, and I didn't know how many hypocritical things I did behind my back.

Pan Ting quickly chose teleportation and healing with his fingers, and then looked at Saer: "Do you have anything to explain to me?"

Sa'er raised his eyebrows.

"...Forget it." Pan Ting was temporarily invisible and hid in the corner alone and went to sulk. He could not beat him or scold him. He didn't know what else he could do except sulk.

After a while, a black shadow blocked the white light cast from the screen and cast a dark shadow. Pan Ting rolled his eyes: "Do you want to say that because you don't choose the upgrade invisibility technique, you can even have three minutes of purity? Haha, I want to say, I originally had many upgrade opportunities! But no, see you!"

Sa'er canal: "Are those opportunities you deserve?"

Pan Ting was choked, looked at him in disappointment, lowered his head, and snorted vaguely: "Parasite."

"What?" Sa'er, who was about to turn around, stopped.

"Parasite!"

Sa'er's pupils slightly contracted, lowered his eyelids, slowly clenched his palms into fists, and slowly let them go. He stretched out his legs to stop Pan Ting who wanted to escape, picked up his collar, and took it to the big screen: "The time to release the wind is over, continue working."

Did he use too much?

Pan Ting secretly glanced at his face.

Sa'er canal: "I won't be angry with the waste."

Pan Ting was like a cat with a tail stepped on it, suddenly furious. Don’t start, and his fingers were scattered on the screen, sneering: “Who cares if you are angry or not?” What kind of parasites are too much? He is a blood sucking worm! Leech!

At level 60, the system automatically turned on time was misaligned, and Pan Ting began to carefully calculate the day.

One day, one year.

Two days, two years.

...

One hundred days, one hundred years.

...

Two hundred and fifty-five days, two hundred and fifty-five years.

It happened to be noon after coming out of the space. The scorching sun shone in tears. It was too long since I saw the light. If he hadn't been born to be unable to kill, smash, and crush the physique of a hero who is a man of fighting and fighting, he would have been blind long ago.

He squatted on the ground and cried and laughed for a while before he wiped away his tears and walked towards the direction of the Glorious Clan.

Although he knew that the person he cared about might be no longer there, he still wanted to go and see it with his own eyes, even if he saw their descendants.

The river next to the Guangrong Clan's garrison is much wider, and the river water is still clear. You can still see purple horses and green tigers flirting with each other in groups of three or three. The vines that eat the murderer move from the ground to the ground, stand quietly on the side of the road, waiting for the prey who accidentally break into its territory.

Pan Ting revisited the old place, stopped and stopped, and it was already evening when he arrived at the Guangrong clan's headquarters.

The station is immersed in the light. The setting sun is like a hat, covering one of the high platforms, with orange light everywhere, and the wooden houses are covered with yellow quilts, making people feel warm from the bottom of their hearts just by looking at them.

It is close to the hometown. Although this place is not Pan Ting's hometown, it carries the most beautiful memories of his world. These memories are buried in his heart and have been frozen at the time when he left. Now, as long as he takes a step forward, his time magic will be invalid. New memories will refresh the original storage. He doesn't know whether he is ready to accept all this. He stops in place hesitantly until the sky gradually darkens and the wooden houses are still quiet. Only then do they realize something is wrong, hide, and quietly enter the wooden houses.

The structure of the wooden house has not changed much, but there are a few more wooden roads between the houses. The wooden boards are decayed, some are creaking, and some are broken when stepped on. Some fruit trees are planted in front and behind the houses, and the fruits fall on the ground and no one picks them.

Two woods were placed in front of the house where my nephew lived, and there was a black black thing inside, full of flying insects. Pan Ting looked closer and found that it was similar to dried jam. Two insect nets were formed between the windows and the eaves. The nets were golden. They dared not reflect the last light with the last ray of sunset. This was a web woven by a golden spider. Pan Ting created it, and it was inspired by a spider.

He walked around the base and walked around the corner, and had to admit that it was abandoned.

"Cai Zi." He said.

Zaozi appeared with a tentacle standing up and looked at him with anticipation: "When are you going to pick up my tentacle?"

Pan Ting said: "Don't you think your tentacles are fragile and easy to break?"

Zaozi covered his face sadly: "I am such a fragile man who is dependent on others and charming."

"…So in order not to get you three times, I think the last thing is not to pick it up."

"Don't pick it up?" Zaozi's volume suddenly turned to the maximum!

Pan Ting said: "Why do you have to take it again if you pick it up?"

Zaozi said hatred: "The people of the Glorious Clan will die sooner or later, why not die sooner?"

Pan Ting said: "Where are they?"

"Not made."

Pan Ting looked at it quietly.

Zaozi hugged his chest, stretched out his left foot, raised his forefoot, looked at him proudly, as if waiting for him to beg for him.

"You have a tentacle on your head." Pan Ting raised a hideous angle on the corner of his mouth.

Zaozi: "..."

Damn Master Yin!

Damn Saar!

A weak self.

The changes over the past two hundred years have been earth-shaking. It may be feudalism to socialism, or the steam era to the electrical era. For the Glorious Clan, they evolved from the wooden house era to the stone house era, from a single race to a multi-ethnic era.

Pan Ting was not surprised to see the Gaowu clan in the territory of the Guangrong clan. After all, the two races had intersected more than two hundred years ago, but what happened to the white-haired and white-faced Ice and Snow Clan?

Who can tell him why there are people who "make snowmen" on the plains in the summer?

He wanted to get closer and look carefully. A deafening explosion disturbed his footsteps and broke the tranquility of the tribe. Dozens of tall and strong young men rushed out of the tribe, with their faces ranging from brown, yellow, and yellow-brown. The races were no longer as distinct as they were more than two hundred years ago. The only thing that was that they were holding two sharp wooden sticks at their hands.

Pan Ting's eyes swept around the crowd and stopped.

The surrounding scenery seems to be flying backwards, like time goes back to the past.

The man was stared at by him and looked around uncomfortably.

"Are you watt?" The tallest one stepped forward and pointed at him with a stick.

Pan Ting said, "You are so fucking." Huh? Why do they speak Shanghai dialect so badly?

The tall man stepped forward and the wooden stick made a move to stab forward: "Go to cut it down!"

I don't understand at all.

It can be seen how much harm it will cause to the next generation if he hadn't taught the language and half a bucket of water, they wouldn't have fallen into the dilemma of talking to each other.

Pan Ting flashed his inspiration and suddenly pointed at himself: "God."

The faces of the group of people changed.

The tall man was angry at first, then a little confused, but finally turned into excitement and rushed to Pan Ting!

Pan Ting subconsciously invisible.

"Ah!" the tall man screamed.

Others shouted.

"..." Pan Ting's feet weakened and he knelt down again. He was sure that these people were definitely members of his nephew's tribe, and they were of the same tradition.

"God."

"God..."

The tribesmen called affectionately.

Pan Ting hesitated before showing up. The tall man immediately took his arm, touched his face first, and then excitedly dragged the person into the tribe. The others surrounded them in the middle, completely cutting off the possibility of escape.

The tall man walked very quickly, and Pan Ting trotted to catch up. After running for about half an hour, he couldn't bear it, a statue of his height appeared in front of him.

The workmanship of the statue is very rough, with strange fuel applied on it, and full of banana yellow.

Pan Ting couldn't help but smile and said, "Your tribal mascot? Or a tribal logo?" The strange aesthetic view actually put an ugly monster in the center.

...
Chapter completed!