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Then he didn't need to lead the way, he had walked through the corridor and headed straight to the non-dust study.

At this moment, he should have gotten up and read a book in the study?

The carved wooden door was pushed away from the outside, and a cold wind wrapped in snowflakes, blowing into the house. Non-dust head was not lifted, pale and thin cheeks were sunken, and the expression between the eyebrows became more and more cold. It seemed that as long as you didn't pay attention, it could turn into a gust of wind, and the snow outside was blown away.

There was still cold wind blowing outside the door, spinning into the collar, and a layer of cold particles grew on the skin.

Non-dusty fingertips moved slightly, and he seemed to feel a distant look.

Just one glance--

The book in his hand fell to the ground, and he couldn't pick it up. He only sat staring on the pear tree chair, staring blankly at the woman wrapped in the cold wind.

The ink hair is like satin, the eyelashes are long, the pale and delicate face coincides with the appearance in the memory, but it seems that it has been reduced a lot, and the small tip of the jaw makes people tremble.

His body trembled suddenly, his eyes staring at the figure far away, he didn't dare to blink at all, for fear of a moment, he would never see it again.

"Blue, Blue Moon ..."

It was more real than every hallucination in a year. He dared not move, blinked, stood up, or even touched her cheek.

Even if he wanted to scratch his heart and scratch his lungs, he would stop breathing soon--

But he still dare not.

But this time, what seems to be different.

He trembled to hear a lightly reply from his ear, "It's me, not dust, I'm back."

came back--

His eyes, which were unusually large because of his thinness, stared at her in a daze for a moment, and when she saw that she really stepped up, a little, slowly approached him.

Suddenly he stood up in a wooden chair, and a woman near him was trapped in his arms.

Really, with a warm exhalation sprayed around his neck, he suddenly wanted to cry, and his pale finger back touched her small face a little, and he was shocked and cold.

He hurried over, closed the door, blocked the door that kept pouring into the cold wind, and then turned back, suddenly hesitated.

"Qingyue?"

The warmth around her slowly returned her numb sensation, she was slightly aroused by the bluish lips, and she smiled quietly, "It is not dust, I am back, it is really back."

She stretched her hand away, her eyes smiling.

Fei Chen stared at the little transparent white hand, stepped closer, raised his hand, and slowly held it.

Everything in front of him was true, not the vague figure of his illness, or the wandering of the dream when he was dreaming back at midnight, and he could not see anyone who could touch him. He closed his eyes gently, and suddenly a tear fell at the corner of his eyes.

"Qingyue, I miss you so much--"

In such a tender scene, Su Kui suddenly had red eyes. She tipped her toes and kissed the clear tear gently, climbing on his thin, almost shapeless shoulder, and looked deeply into his dark eyes, "I Also, I think every night, finally ... "

The small hand was held by a big hand and gradually turned into interlocking fingers, "Are you still going?"

Su Kui shook his head and hugged him even harder. He only wanted to cry when he was distressed. "No more, no more, we will never separate again in our life."

Fei Chen smiled slowly, and the gloomy time on the face dissipated, like ice and snow melting, with the original appearance.

"Even if you want to go, this time, I will never let go again. Unless, I die--"