The night at the Black Coast is as quiet as a knife hidden in a sheath.
Chun is here.
She didn’t speak, nor did she need to speak. The wind spoke for her, and the waves answered for her. She stood there, the swift knife in her hand was like a shadow, flashing with sharp light and murderous aura.
Her hair changed color. Red like blood, white like snow, blue like night. In the change, there are three emotions, and also three ways of killing. She didn’t laugh or cry, but every knife was accompanied by a stubbornness and compassion.
She didn’t come for anyone, nor did she leave for anything. She just walked here, just like the wind came to the end and stopped.
Deng Deng also came.
She didn’t speak either, but her summons moved first. Like a ball of fire, and also like a shadow, it circled around her. The long blade in her hand was not heavy, but fast, as fast as the wind passing over the grass, without a sound.
She was still young, but her eyes were very old. She looks old, as if she has seen a lot of things and knows a lot of people. She smiled once, and that smile was like a knife with a sharp blade, with light and blood.
The 1.4 card pool is like a duel, a game. Chun is the sharpest knife in this game, and Deng Deng is the most clever needle. Yinlin is coming back, and she is also a member of the game. With the return of the old people, the story will start again.
Jin Xi and San Hua have changed their skins, just like the old sword has changed its sheath, but what remains unchanged is the deep affection and murderous intent between each move.
Are players the audience? They are also the ones who take action. Treabar is like the fastest escort agency in the world. Within three minutes, the silver is delivered and the knife is loaded. You can kill at any time.
Some people say that this is just a game. Wrong. The world is not a place, but a human heart. Mingchao is a world, where some people draw their knives, some are hit, some leave with a smile, and some come back crying.
Chun and Deng Deng have no background music, and they don’t need a sensational plot. Their existence is the plot. The wind will continue to blow, and the sword will continue to be unsheathed. The Black Coast is still there, and the waves are still there.
What about you? Do you want to smoke or not?