"You can hold on for two days if you eat one a day, and you can eat half a day for four days." His voice was so hoarse that he couldn't tell the difference. In this way, he still pulled his chapped lips and started laughing.

There was no longer water. He picked up the snow with his blood-stained hands and swallowed the dough together. He chewed hard, his numb lips couldn't tell the dough and the snow, both like tiny blades.

He stood up again, silently facing the suspension bridge, and the sky gradually became dark.

"You are so stubborn."

"I would like to teach me the art of kingly ways."

"How do you know I have the kingly art?"

"I have heard about Mr. I have been looking for Mr. Mr.'s journey for a long time."

"Do you know what the kingly art is?"

"Know."

"Then do you think I will teach you?"

“I can wait.”

"You can't wait long, you're going to die."

The old man raised his hand, and the servants quietly carried out the sedan chair. This time, the old man did not set up a small oil umbrella table or warm wine at the door. The weather became colder and colder. The strong wind quickly passed through the deep valley, like the roar of a wild beast in the northern mountains, and then rolled upside down. The red plum tree had already fallen, and the petals were covered with layers of snow, leaving only the remaining branches lying there, as thick as ghost claws.

The last half of the bread was finished, and the belly seemed to be cut by a knife inch by inch. The young man sat in the snow and rubbed his legs and arms hard. Now he didn't dare to stand still, and he kept rubbing his hands and feet. He knew that if he didn't rub, his hands and feet might freeze. He didn't want to be a person without hands and feet. He would have to go a long way in the future.

He tried hard to laugh again to encourage himself, but he suddenly realized that he could not laugh anymore. His face was spasming, and the muscles on his cheeks had already frozen in the cold wind.

The old man raised his hand, and the black-clad servants stopped the carriage under the eaves.

"A child knows too much," the old man raised his head, with a prickly cold light in his only eye, "Kill him!"

No one answered him, and the black-clad servants silently carried sedan chairs into the hut.

The sound of the sea returned to his ears, and he heard the waves of rising tide rolling up again, like thunder in the distance.

He tried hard to reach out his hand to touch the warm tide, the sea water flowed through his fingers, warm and comfortable. He turned his head and pillowed on the beach, the hermit crabs washed by the waves spitting bubbles on his back, and someone caressed the top of his head, and the familiar laughter was so far away and clear.

"I saw her town yesterday."

"I'm so scared. Will I do that in many years? But it's so strange that her smile is still as happy as when she was young, as if she didn't know she was going to die."

"I wanted to chase her and swim. She told me that the current roared through the coral cave in the depths of the sea, which was much stronger than the strongest wind in the sky..."

"Will you come with me?"

Everything is silent.
Chapter completed!