Female tyrant provoked death

Chapter 504

Slowly raising his head to look at the god of death, just for a moment, Fan Qingtian lowered his head again, with a self-mockery in the corner of his mouth, as if laughing at his own incompetence.

At this time, Fan Qingtian was as fragile as a helpless child, and it made people feel sour.

He didn't confront the god of death as before, and let the god of death hold him unmoved. Fan Qingtian lowered his head and was silent for a while, and finally said, "Thank you." The calm voice implied a touch of self-blame choking.

The deep and dark eyes can see through people's hearts, looking at Fan Qingtian, who is as strong as before, who is not inferior to the man in the slightest, and there is a little light dancing under the calm eyes of the god of death.

With a clear voice, Death reached out and gently brushed the hair sticking to Fan Qingtian's face behind his ears, looking at Fan Qingtian's cold face, "You are sad."

Fan Qingtian kept his head down without looking up at the God of Death. Hearing God of Death's question, Fan Qingtian was silent for a while before replying, "I'm sad, isn't it ridiculous? I should be a ruthless person , how can you be sad? Even if you don't think it's ridiculous, but I do. "

I don't know why, at this moment, Fan Qingtian doesn't want to be on guard against the god of death at all, her heart is too tired, and she can't breathe under the pressure.

Even if the god of death attacks him at this moment, Fan Qingtian doesn't want to be on guard against him. Now Fan Qingtian needs someone to listen to her and confide in her frail and incompetent side.

Maybe after complaining, the sad mood in her heart will dissipate, and she is still the ruthless Fan Qingtian who only seeks to achieve her own goals.

Quietly listening to Fan Qingtian's words, the eyes of the god of death shone with light.

The broad palm pressed Fan Qingtian's head on his chest with unique tenderness, and the indifferent voice of the god of death could not hear anyone's emotions, "I am the god of death, but my heart is beating, and it is not dead yet. "

The god of death, known as the master of death, has a heartbeat, isn't it ridiculous.

The God of Death didn't understand why he comforted Fan Qingtian like this, but at this moment, the God of Death couldn't bear Fan Qingtian's bald mood—was he also ridiculous?

He also didn't expect the god of death to say such words to him. Fan Qingtian felt the slight beating heart in the god of death's chest, which could hardly feel the beating frequency. Fan Qingtian had an inexplicable sense of trust in the god of death.

"Reaper, can't you control people's life and death? Can you bring Sain Qing back to life?" Looking up at Reaper, Fan Qingtian's eyes were burning, waiting for Reaper's words.

Hearing Fan Qingtian's request, the god of death was silent for a while, then shook his head slightly and said, "Although I can control life and death, I cannot bring the dead back to life."

It's not that you can't, it's that you can't.

Can't revive Satin Qing, that's because Satin Qing's strength is too weak to meet the conditions for resurrection.

Besides, it takes too much energy to bring a dead person back to life, and the god of death will not do such a boring thing.

The God of Death's answer was within Fan Qingtian's expectation. How can the God of Death be called a god? Then the God of Death is just a human being with a high level of cultivation. How can the God of Death bring the dead back to life?

With a desolate arc on the corner of his mouth, Fan Qingtian said softly, "It's because I'm not strong enough, but the only thing I can rely on is myself."

Clenching the hands under the sleeves tightly, Fan Qingtian looked haggard and pale, "I caused Satin Qing's death. One day, I will give Satin Qing an explanation."

Although she wanted to avenge Sain Qing, the biggest culprit was her Fan Qingtian.

If she hadn't asked Feng Yaomiao to come, but had invited Fan Qingtian herself, then all these irreparable things would not have happened.

After struggling with his body, Fan Qingtian wanted to get out of Death's embrace.

And the god of death also put Brahma Qingtian on the ground very tactfully.

The entire dormitory was devastated, and the atmosphere in the air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Hiding all the emotions in his heart, Fan Qingtian's face regained his calm at this time, as if the emotions revealed by Fan Qingtian just now did not exist at all.

However, the god of death saw through it, and Fan Qingtian buried his deepest love.

There was a little bit of light dancing in the deep eyes, and the god of death had no intention of opening his mouth, nor did he intend to leave.

Looking at the god of death very calmly, Fan Qingtian withdrew his past barbed hostility towards the god of death, and said calmly, "the god of death can listen to me, I am grateful, if the god of death has nothing to do, please come back."

After a pause, Fan Qingtian continued, "If God of Death wants to find me for something, please wait a few days until I adjust my mood. I can't talk to you now."

His eyes fell on Fan Qingtian's bloody fist indifferently, the god of death didn't seem to be listening to Fan Qingtian's words.

Suddenly, the god of death reached out and grabbed Fan Qingtian's injured hand, and with a wave of his hand, a bandage full of medicinal fragrance appeared out of thin air, which was held by the god of death.

The whole body exudes a cool and indifferent breath, but the god of death unexpectedly has a unique gentleness.

Gently helping Fan Qingtian bandage the injured wound, Death said slowly, "You can get rid of the imprisonment if you want, you and I are making a bet, no matter what the result is, I will set you free from now on, if you win, I can promise you three conditions at the same time."

Hearing the words of the god of death, Fan Qingtian couldn't turn his head. It was not until the god of death bandaged Fan Qingtian's hands that Fan Qingtian wanted to understand what the god of death meant.

"Are you afraid of falling in love with me, so you don't want to make this bet with me? Want to change the bet?" Fan Qingtianjing questioned the God of Death as he stared at the God of Death with dancing lights.

Fan Qingtian's words couldn't help making the corners of Death's mouth slightly curved.

Waving his hand, an invisible internal force swept over the collapsed and shattered cabinet on the ground, and Death sucked the ointment he had given Fan Qingtian into his palm with internal force.

Opening the box of the ointment, the tip of the fair hand raised the milky white ointment, and stretched out his hand to apply it on the scratched wound on Fan Qingtian's face.

Seeing the movement of the god of death, Fan Qingtian tilted his head and wanted to avoid it. At this moment, the god of death calmly said, "Don't move."

It seemed that there was a natural force to restrain people's hearts. Hearing the words of the god of death, Fan Qingtian consciously did not avoid it, allowing the fingertips of the god of death to touch his cheek.

The fingertips with the ointment passed over the wound on Fan Qingtian's face, delicate and gentle.

Feeling the temperature of Death's fingertips across his cheeks, Fan Qingtian couldn't help feeling that the wound on his face was burning hot.

The god of death applied the ointment on Fan Qingtian's wound, and in an instant, the wound on Fan Qingtian's face healed, as if he had never been injured.

Seeing the wound on Fan Qingtian's face that had disappeared, the god of death slowly withdrew his hand, and calmly began to answer Fan Qingtian's words, "On the contrary, I just want to add to the love bet between us, Come on, do you dare to try?"

(End of this chapter)