Anthology of Gu Long: End of the World, Bright Moon, Knife

Chapter 2
sunset.

Fu Hongxue under the setting sun.He was the only one under the setting sun, as if he was the only one left in the world.

Thousands of miles of desolation and cold, even the sunset seems to have changed color because of loneliness, into an empty and desolate gray-white.

So are his people.

He held a knife tightly in his hand: pale hand, black knife!

Paleness and pitch black are the colors closest to death!Isn't death the very limit of emptiness and loneliness.

In those empty and lonely eyes, it seemed as if he had really seen death!
Was death right in front of his eyes?
He is moving forward.He walked slowly, but he did not stop, and he would never stop even if death was waiting for him.

His walking posture is weird and peculiar. His left foot takes a step forward first, and his right foot slowly follows up. It seems that every step is very difficult.But he has walked countless journeys and countless miles, and he has walked out every step by himself.

How long will it take to go like this?
He didn't know, didn't even think about it!
Now that he has come here, what about the front?Is it really death ahead?

of course!He already has death in his eyes, and what he holds in his hand is also death, and what his knife symbolizes is death!
A pitch-black knife with a pitch-black handle and a pitch-black scabbard.

Although this knife symbolizes death, it is his life!
The sky is getting darker, but from a distance, you can already see a faint outline of the town.

He knew that it was the only relatively prosperous town "Phoenix Collection" in this frontier wasteland.

Of course he knew, because the "Phoenix Collection" was where the death he was looking for was.

But he didn't know that the Phoenix Collection itself had also died!

Although the street is neither long nor wide, there are dozens of shops and houses.

There are countless such small towns in the world, and each of them is like this, with simple shops, cheap goods, kind families, and simple people.The only difference is that although there are still such shops in Fenghuangji, there are no one there.

None of them.

The doors and windows on both sides of the street are closed, but they are all dilapidated. There is a thick layer of dust inside and outside the house, and cobwebs have formed under the corners and eaves.Startled by the footsteps, a black cat, having lost its original alertness and agility, panted and waddled across the long street, hardly looking like a cat.

Doesn't hunger change everything?
Could it be the only living life in this small town?
Fu Hongxue's heart was cold, and his hands were also cold, even colder than the blade he held in his hand!
He was standing on this street, and he saw all this with his own eyes, but he still couldn't believe it, couldn't believe it, and couldn't bear to believe it!

—What disaster happened in this place?
—How did this disaster happen?
There was a wind blowing, and a wooden signboard beside the street was squeaked by the wind, and the eight characters written on it could be vaguely distinguished: "Chen's old shop, old wine"!
This was a respectable signboard in the town, but now it was broken and cracked, like an old man's teeth.

But the situation of the old Chen family store itself is much worse than this signboard.

Fu Hongxue stood quietly, watching the signboard swaying in the wind, and when the wind stopped, he walked over slowly, opened the door, and walked into the hotel, as if walking into a hotel that had been abandoned. Tombs that have been dug up by grave robbers.

He's been here before!

Although the wine in this place is not too old or very good, it is by no means like vinegar, and this place certainly does not look like a tomb.

Just a year ago——a whole year ago, this hotel was still a very lively place. When travelers from south to north passed by Phoenix Collection, they would always be attracted by the sign outside and come in for a few glasses of old wine!

After the old wine is drunk, there will be more conversations, and the hotel will of course become lively. There are always people who like to go to lively places.

So in this not too narrow hotel, it is usually full of guests, and the shopkeeper Chen, who is already very friendly, is of course always smiling.

But now, shopkeeper Chen with a smile on his face is gone, dust is piled on the clean table, broken wine jars are everywhere on the ground, and the tangy wine aroma has been replaced by a disgusting rancid smell.

The laughter and noise in front of the hall, the sounds of boxing games and wine gambling, the shoveling of knives and spoons in the back of the hall, and the explosion of oil pans can no longer be heard. The bat in the picture is vibrating its wings.

It was almost dark.

Fu Hongxue walked over slowly, walked to a corner, and sat down slowly with his back to the wall and facing the door.

When he came a year ago, he was sitting here.But now this place is like a tomb, and there is no lingering meaning at all.

Why is he still sitting down?Is he nostalgic for the past?Still waiting?
If he was nostalgic, what happened in this place a year ago that would make him nostalgic?
If he is waiting, what exactly is he waiting for?
Is it death?Really death?
Night has finally enveloped the earth.

No lights, no candles, no fire, just darkness.

He hates darkness, but it is a pity that darkness is like death, it is absolutely inevitable!

Now darkness comes again, what about death?
He sat there motionless, still holding his knife tightly in his hand, maybe you can still see his pale hand, but his knife is no longer visible; his knife has become one with the darkness.

Was his knife like darkness itself?Could it be that when he swung his knife, it was unavoidable?
In the deathly darkness and silence, a melodious sound of string music suddenly came from the distance with the wind.

At this moment, with this situation and this scene, the music sounded like fairy music that came down from the sky.

But when he heard the music, a strange expression suddenly appeared in those empty eyes—no matter what kind of expression it was, it was definitely not a happy expression.

The music was approaching, and at the same time as the music, there were actually waves of carriages.

Besides him, could anyone else rush to this desolate dead town?
His eyes had gradually returned to indifference, but his hand holding the knife was clenched even tighter.

Does he know who is coming?

Is this the person he was waiting for?

Is this man the embodiment of death?

What kind of music is Xianle?No one has ever heard of it!
But if there is a kind of music that sounds like it can melt their hearts, or even their whole body, they will think that this kind of music is fairy music.

Fu Hongxue didn't melt.

He was still sitting there quietly, listening quietly. Suddenly, eight big men in black with colored silk around their waists walked in quickly. Each of them was holding a bamboo basket in his hand. Something weird, even including rags and brooms.

They didn't even look at Fu Hongxue. As soon as they rushed in, they immediately started cleaning and tidying up the hotel.

Their movements are not only fast, but also extremely efficient.

Like a miracle, this messy and dilapidated hotel has become completely new in an instant.

Except for the corner where Fu Hongxue was sitting, every place has been cleaned spotlessly. Wallpapers have been pasted on the walls, beaded curtains have been hung on the doors, tablecloths have been spread on the tables, and red carpets have even been spread on the floor. .

When the eight of them withdrew and stood by the door, four girls in colorful clothes came in with bamboo baskets in their hands, filled the table with flowers, food and wine, and filled the golden cup.

Then a group of singing girls strolled over, waving five strings.

At this time, there was another sound of drumming in the midst of the music, and it was already the beginning of the watch. Looking from a distance from the window, one could see a man in white holding a drum in his hand, standing in the darkness like a ghost.

Where did the watchman come from?

Was he always reminding others of the moment of death?
Who is he reminding?
More drums sounded, and the singing sounded again:
The road at the end of the world, people have not returned, people are at the end of the world, and their souls are already dead before they reach the end of the world... Yan Nanfei walked in before the singing stopped, and when he walked in, he seemed drunk.

(End of this chapter)