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The white God of death, the young master of Emperor Wu, the leader of the mountain and river sacrifice, and the master of the two billion dead army, who destroyed the demon emperor and the forest of beasts, is just like a child who made a mistake. He shudders all over, and his lips are murmuring. He can't speak for a long time.

His heart was trembling, and all the efforts he had made in the past seven years were now in vain.

What makes Lin Hao's heart most tense is that he has realized profoundly and clearly that dantaiyue has been irretrievable. All these seven years are just his dream, his moon in the water, and flowers in the mirror. From beginning to end, they are just a beautiful dream.

The ignorant dreamer thought that the dream was true, everything could be recovered in time, but the dreamer forgot that the world was cruel and heartless! Those who have passed away will eventually pass away. The sad songs that cannot be saved can only be recited with tears and blood!

Anger, despair, unwilling, countless kinds of emotions mixed together, let the young man in white tightly clenched his fist, but directly pressed his fingers out of blood, let the air slowly filled with a pungent smell of blood.

After a while, the boy in white slowly opened his lips and asked in a hoarse voice, "why... I always have a special feeling about tantaiyue?"

Tianshu emperor heard this, but suddenly a smile, Gujing wubo's face also suddenly appeared almost to promote narrow this vivid expression.

"Why?" He looked at Lin Hao and asked, "are you sure this is not love?"

It can only be said that the goods are lucky to be dead. Otherwise, at such a serious juncture, it's generally not enough to beat or smoke, or both.

But Lin Hao's heart and mind are almost dead at the moment. He doesn't get angry or sad because of each other's jokes. He just looks at the Tianshu emperor with no expression. His dry lips open again and slowly repeat: "why do I always have a special feeling about dantaiyue?"

Looking at his eyes with almost no light, a trace of pity appeared on the face of emperor Tianshu. As usual, Lin Hao, who was very proud in his heart, would feel insulted and dissatisfied at the moment.

But now his heart is dead, see each other's pity expression, the heart also don't feel any wrong, just want an answer.

"I can't say that..." the Tianshu emperor finally restrained his expression and sighed softly, "but I can tell you that your father did all this. Your father, Lin zhantian, arranged my tomb here."

"The source of all this is your father's handwriting."

Hearing this, Lin Hao clenched his fist, and his voice became more and more low: "all the things I have been looking for in the past seven years are fake, and they have been designed from the beginning, right..."

the Tianshu emperor looked at you calmly, with calm eyes and no hesitation, and then said: "if you must think from this angle, yes You're right. It's all just designed. "