After Zhang Tu woke up, the morning light was dim, and his whole body was indescribably good.

The muddy clothes had been hung to dry in the courtyard, and the hems of their clothes were gently floating in the breeze, as if they were saying hello to Zhang Tu.

I closed my eyes and meditated, trying to recreate yesterday's scene into a picture, shaking my head, feeling dizzy after a hangover, but my whole person's spirit was extremely high.

Reality and dreams are somewhat unclear. The rhythm of reality in dreams is sometimes slow and sometimes rapid, ups and downs, continuous, and has a meaningful aftertaste.

The Acacia Spear in his hand gave him a real sense of comfort. Zhang Tu came to the courtyard, let himself go, felt the throbbing deep in his heart, and followed the trend with his hand, every move, as if it was engraved in the memory of his muscles.

The spear is like a white snake spitting out messages, hissing through the wind, and like a swimming dragon walking around. Sometimes it is as light as a swallow and rises with the spear, sometimes it is as sudden as lightning and falling leaves fall apart.There is really a silver light rising in the courtyard, and it has swallowed the blood of the Huns for thousands of miles.

The whistling wind in the courtyard startled Zhang's father who was busy in the kitchen and Bian Guanyue who was doing something. Zhang's mother had already gone back to the back room to rest after being persuaded by them.

"I miss you forever, but I miss you forever!" Bian Guanyue said slowly, still holding the pork in her hand, looking at Zhang Tu's dancing spear.

Zhang Shunsheng held a kitchen knife in one hand, and his apron was still stained with blood. Hearing Bian Guanyue's low moan, he couldn't help but said: "Xiao Bianguan, what are you talking about?"

Bian Guanyue smiled, cooed at Zhang Tu, and said: "Uncle, when I saw Tu's spear style, I naturally thought of a poem, long lovesickness, long memories, short lovesickness, infinite! Look at Zhang Tu's spear style, it is like lovesickness, not knowing where it starts, and going deeper. As the saying goes, you are the most lovesick when you don't know lovesickness. That's why the spear power is continuous. If you are facing an enemy, the power is... very powerful!"

Zhang Shunsheng naturally didn't understand this, but looking at his son who was so angry, he subconsciously summarized Bian Guanyue's words as compliments, and he happily leaned against the door frame and looked at his son at this time.

At this time, Zhang Tu was actually the son that Zhang Shunsheng was most satisfied with. He was sunny and energetic.Perhaps it was because Zhang Tu had always followed his mother when he was young. He was gentle but not masculine, but when Zhang Shunsheng discovered it, it was already too late.

Nowadays, despite the great changes in the world, his children are as energetic as the rising sun. Zhang Shunsheng feels that there seems to be new hope for the future life, and the brows that have been frowned all year round due to life have gradually relaxed.

At this time, the gunfire in the courtyard changed again. It was originally continuous. There was a pause in the gunfire, as if there was a flaw. But what followed was suffocating determination and ruthlessness, but there was half a blank, and a contradictory feeling of discomfort arose spontaneously.

"How long a one-night stand lasts forever! What a heartbreak!" Bian Guanyue said in a low voice. If she hadn't known that Zhang Tufei was him, in a daze, Bian Guanyue would have thought that his old friend had reappeared.

Zhang Shunsheng seemed to have discovered for the first time that Bian Guanyue's literary talent was so outstanding. He picked up all the poems at his fingertips and kept saying "good, good, good, good, good, good," but he didn't know whether he was praising Bian Guanyue or Zhang Tu.

Seeing this, Bian Guanyue had one sentence in her mind that she had not yet said: "Seeing is false, hearing is true! The third shot, blind dragon, I wonder if you can do it."

At this moment, Zhang Tu seemed to be convulsing, fighting with the spear in his hand, but there was a feeling of being unable to continue. Zhang Tu only felt that his chest was very tight, and he wanted to continue, but it was like looking at flowers in a fog, unable to see clearly, and the dancing spear in his hand returned to stillness.

Zhang Tu held a spear in his hand, held his heavy breath, and looked at Bian Guanyue standing at the door of the kitchen as if asking for help.

Bian Guanyue put the meat back in the kitchen, then walked out and said: "The Divine Mighty Soul-Severing Thirteen has always been not about the inheritance of moves, but about the artistic conception."

"Impression?" Zhang Tu seemed to understand.

"Yes, the artistic conception is that once you understand it, you will understand it, and it will unfold naturally. Isn't it a state of mind that is full of lovesickness, heartbroken and ruthless?"