The 87th year after Yi Zhijun's death.

Fu Ningyuan leaned on a crutch and stepped back from the left and right, standing alone in the main hall of Zhijun Temple, staring at the golden statue on the long table.

The former scholar Luotuo has now turned white and has a hunched back.

In those eyes that were as deep and forbearing as an ancient well, there was no longer the ambition and loneliness of the past, and only desolation and kindness remained.

The elegant and elegant handsome face is covered with wrinkles, inch by inch by thread, which is the precipitation of time.

Fu Ningyuan is old and should have died long ago.

But in order to atone for sins, I have been living secretly and carefully.

He didn't dare to die. He was worried that if he died, Hao'er's child would be bullied. He was worried that if he died, the incense would be cut off in the Zhijun Temple Fair.

He ate vegetarian food and chanted scriptures every day, hoping that he would live long and live one hundred years, two hundred years, and five hundred years.

Use this long life to redeem Hao'er's sins and Zhijun's sins.

Fu Ningyuan's voice was old and trembled with a weak slight trembling.

He pulled the corners of his mouth and smiled.

"Zhijun, I just had a very long dream. When we met, you were wearing a pink dress, so beautiful that you were like a soul-catching fairy in a dramatic script. I didn't dare to look up at you..." Fu Ningyuan's face showed a embarrassed look. He was obviously such an old face, but he had tenderness and shyness like a young man. "You smiled so beautifully at me. My heart was trembling. I sang a song about asking for a phoenix for you. That was probably the most impulsive thing I did in my life."

All the love and all the passion were sung into that song.

The white candles are scattered, and the incense is slowly burning.

The golden statue on the long table was still full of smiles, unmoved, and uninterrupted.

Fu Ningyuan continued to mutter: "That dream is so beautiful that it is true. I don't want to wake up, but Hao'er kept crying in my ears, crying, and woke me up from the dream." Fu Ningyuan laughed and scolded, "It's true, I'm a ninety-year-old man, and I'm still so stupid. I cry like a child, and I'm not afraid of being laughed at by his great-grandson..."

Time is quiet and the candlelight in the hall is warm and golden.

"The doctor said, I'm looking back now and I can't last long..." Fu Ningyuan smiled, his eyelashes trembled slightly, and he looked at the golden statue on the long desk, with a begging expression in his eyes, "Zhi Jun, it's been eighty-seven years, you really... don't really come out to see me for the last time?"

The answer to him was only quiet and the melting sound of the white candle.

Time is silent, and a room is hidden.

Fu Ningyuan suddenly lowered his head, with deep despair in his eyes.

He trembled with his dead body and his lips turned white.

"Are you still... still unwilling to forgive me?"

He smiled bitterly: "That's right, I have committed too many sins. It's up to you to refuse to forgive me. I want to atone for you, but my body... can't hold on..." Fu Ningyuan stood for a while, his body was a little unstable. He bent his knees, knelt on the cushion, put his crutch aside, panting, "I don't know which level I will be on, but it doesn't matter which level I will have. Anyway, there is no you there, it's all the same... I can't redeem my sins when I'm alive, so I'll be redeemed slowly. One day I will redeem them all..."

He looked up, with some fragile hope in his eyes.

"When I redeem it, Zhijun, can you come and see me?"

Still silent tranquility.

This time, Fu Ningyuan waited for a long time, staring at the golden statue on the long desk, as if he wanted to keep her in mind forever.

Fu Ningyuan smiled desolately: "If you don't come, don't come..." He lowered his head and murmured, "I should have known long ago... You are such a revenge person, how can you come back to see me... After all, I am delusional..."

Fu Ningyuan's voice gradually became weak.

The candles are left in the wind, and the oil is gone and the lamps are gone.

"I think my consciousness is a little blurred. Zhijun, you should be dying. I wonder if you will feel better when you see me dying slowly in front of you... I really want to hear your voice, even if you yell at me, you can..."

Fu Ningyuan fell to the ground, and his eyes gradually became blurred.

Suddenly, a white figure appeared in front of me.

He forced himself to open his drooping eyelids that were about to close.

The woman in front of her has exactly the same facial features as Yi Zhijun, but her temperament is completely different.

Yi Zhijun is charming, but the woman in front of her is gentle and beautiful.

Fu Ningyuan knew that this woman was his Zhijun.

The eyes rekindled.

He shook his lips and looked at her in disbelief, his voice trembling: "Zhijun..."

"I'm not Yi Zhijun."

The woman in white frowned, as if thinking about the words: "To be honest, Yi Zhijun died when she died. And I am a god. Although she is also called Zhijun, they are two completely different beings from her... I know your story. I accepted all the memories of Yi Zhijun, but did not accept her feelings for you. So, we are different, do you understand?"

Fu Ningyuan smiled, and there seemed to be a temptation in his eyes: "Whether it is Zhijun, who married me at the beginning, or you who are standing in front of me and talking to me now, you are the same in my heart, all of them are my wife, Zhijun."

The woman in white frowned even deeper: "Oh, why can't I tell you clearly... I'm not Yi Zhijun, I'm different from her. Even if I have her memory, I'm not her..."

"Zhijun, can I hug you?" Fu Ningyuan interrupted her and said with a wry smile, "I am really greedy. I clearly thought at first that I could see you for the last time, but now I can't help but want more..."

The woman in white was stunned and didn't say anything, and a trace of obscure emotions flashed in her eyes.

Fu Ningyuan just thought she had made a promise. He stretched out his right hand tremblingly, touching Yi Zhijun's shoulder carefully, trying to embrace her, but the skinny and old hands penetrated her body and fell into the air.

The woman in white sighed: "Mortals cannot touch the gods."

Fu Ningyuan shook his lips and smiled weakly: "It doesn't matter. Even if you can't touch it, you can pretend to be able to touch it."

He stretched out his right hand again and placed it on Yi Zhijun's cheek, as if he was passing through an invisible film, carefully stroking it slowly along the edge of her cheek, as if he had really touched it.

Fu Ningyuan's tears overflowed from his turbid eyes. He smiled and said, "Zhijun, look, I've met you."

The woman in white bit her lower lip, looking at Fu Ningyuan with dark eyes, without saying anything.

Time seems to freeze at this moment, painted into a scroll.

But it was only a moment after all.

"Zhijun, thank you."

Fu Ningyuan's strength seemed to be exhausted at that moment.

He fell heavily on the cold floor.

No more breathing.

His vicissitudes of face was filled with a satisfied smile.

It was clearly such an old and shriveled face, but the woman in white seemed to see the shy and handsome boy under the peach blossom tree that day.

It’s like time has been there, no one is lost, and no one is lost.

The woman in white felt that her heart was empty. She looked at Fu Ningyuan's body lying on the ground, so she was so confused that she couldn't speak.

It was a strange feeling, like a position that did not belong to me, suddenly thrust and hurt. The feeling was more intuitive than the pain was empty, as if I had lost the center of gravity of my body. It was obviously not that important thing, but I couldn't do without him.

Her eyes were sore and soaring. Before she could figure out what the empty feeling in her heart was, a drop of warm liquid had already slipped in her eyes, and she slid down her cheeks, dripping down the corners of her lips. The woman in white pursed her a little.

Salty.

It's tears.

It's a bit strange.

How could she cry for Fu Ningyuan?

She is obviously not Yi Zhijun.

Yi Zhijun and Fu Ningyuan are just a couple in her memory. They are like a touching story. Although they will be moved, they will not shed tears for this story because she has never personally felt the ultimate emotion.

She is a god, a god who abandons the world.

Soon, the servant pushed the door and found that Fu Ningyuan had no warm body. They lifted Fu Ningyuan up and put it on the clean and simple bed in the ear room, and invited the doctor. Haoer and his wife rushed over and their descendants.

The doctor announced his death and cried in his ears.

Especially Hao'er, crying so hard that she burst into tears and her face was like a sad old child. He is not as stupid as he was when he was a child, but he still has a childish temperament and is stupid and stupid.

Hao'er's daughter-in-law took care of Fu Ningyuan's funeral. She was a smart and capable strong woman who was grateful and fulfilled her duties.

Her intelligent eyes clearly showed tenderness when she looked at Hao'er.

The woman in white was very relieved and no longer had to worry about Hao'er's future, because this smart woman would take good care of him.

Hao's sons are full of grandchildren, and they are all as smart as he was when he was born.

Maybe it's really a fool who is stupid.

The woman in white glanced at Hao'er for the last time and drifted around Pingcheng in a daze. She walked the road he had walked, the people he had seen, and the things he had heard were as if she had been with him for so many years.

"What? Are you going to give up your divine nature? Are you crazy?" Deng Hua has been eating incense for more than 80 years and has raised himself to be fat and fat. In addition, he is a white robe. From a distance, he looks like a fat white dumpling, round and round.

The woman in white closed her eyebrows: "I'm here to say goodbye to you, Denghua, in the future, Pingcheng may be left alone to protect you."

"Why should I give up the divine nature? Because Fu Ningyuan is dead? Do you want to accompany him?" Deng Hua had a small face tense.

The woman in white smiled bitterly: "I used to think that Yi Zhijun and Fu Ningyuan were people in the story. No matter how thrilling their love was, it was just a touching story in my eyes... But now I realize that I had fallen in love with this story and the people in the story." The woman in white smiled tragically, "Isn't it ridiculous to fall in love with someone because of a story?"

She is the god Yi Zhijun. Her past memories are like a play in her eyes. She will be moved by the characters in the play, but she no longer has the emotions of the people in the play. Just like Yi Zhijun's father, when he was alive, Yi Zhijun obviously loved him very much, but Yi Zhijun, as a god, felt very unfamiliar with him, because Yi Zhijun is a person in the story and has never appeared outside the story.

The god Yi Zhijun couldn't feel Master Yi's love for her. She could only feel Fu Ningyuan carefully wiping her golden body with a scarf, feeling Fu Ningyuan's remorse of chanting scriptures late at night, and feeling his slowly white hair and his gradually aging face.

And his dark eyes, as dark as a pond, surrounded her heart day and night.
To be continued...