Chapter 4117 Finale: Every Year Has Today, Every Year Has Today

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That night, the snow was beginning to fall, and the moonlight was clear.

The clear and courteous voice spoke about the world she had not seen in those years, and she talked all night.

No one slept.

She finally doesn't need to deceive herself and tell the story he once told her every night.

The figure in front of the bed was straight and thin, becoming more and more ethereal in the moonlight.

He was quiet, speaking in a hoarse voice.

It is early morning.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Ranbai couldn't bear his voice, "I want to sleep with Mr.

"Abai." He whispered, "I want to tell you."

Two seconds of silence.

Ranbai said yes: "I will listen to Mr.

The night was drowsy, and the snow and moonlight mixed into a line, shining into the small window of the attic, and the figure was illuminated on and off.

This scene has been in the dream for too long, for thousands of years, the memory is a luxury.

He had too much to say to her in those dark days.

But in the end, he just called out Bai, like every night for the past three years, telling a strange story of consummation.

The protagonist in the story is lucky in his life without disaster.

It's his shadow in the story.

The gentleman closed his eyes for a long time in the dim moonlight, and his fingertips fell on the dyed white eyebrows, the sound was non-stop, and the heartbeat was non-stop.

In the depths of the night, Ranbai heard him sigh, and his voice seemed far away and close at hand.

"Mr. hasn't returned home for a long time. He misses and rejoices, but he feels more guilty."

Ranbai held his sleeve from beginning to end, never letting go. Looking at him, he only said, "It's good to go home, sir."

The night was deep, and the cold current was surging, and it finally returned to the clear moonlight, which was gentle in an instant.

This night, I will no longer sleep alone.

The story went on all night.

Nobody slept.

The gentleman sat there, invisible, with his sleeves dyed white.

Dianbai didn't close his eyes all night, and stared at him for a long time in silence.

The next day was a sunny day. The snow on the eaves had melted a little and rolled down from the eaves ticking, and the sun was just right.

The light entered the attic, reflecting two figures.

The gentleman just opened the second compartment under the dresser and took out the wooden comb. He was dyed white and held down his wrist. The red moiré sleeves radiated silver light, his fingers were pale and cold, and his movements were lazy. He took the wooden comb from his hand: "I'll do it."

He didn't argue with her, and sat calmly in front of the dresser, smiling: "Okay, sorry for the trouble, Bai."

"No trouble." Ranbai whispered, "I haven't combed Mr.'s hair yet."

There was a moment of silence in the attic.

The blood clan red clothes like snow, silver hair and red eyes, clinging to the wooden comb, pale and slender fingers holding three thousand hair strands, standing behind Mr.

The sun fell, blurring the two figures, and the shadows overlapped and entangled.

"A comb is a lot of joy."

The moment a familiar voice sounded, the gentleman paused slightly.

Ranbai looked at the figure in the mirror, word by word.

"Second Comb Chang An Ning."

Two different voices overlap in the trajectories of the past and reality, crossing the mountains and rivers.

There were two figures reflected in the mirror, just like in the past, the weak blood clan was lying in front of the dressing table, with silver hair reaching to the ankles, and he had to comb the hair of the husband when he spoke, and his voice was childish and not stained with wind and frost.

That man in Xueyi, with clear eyes, smiled at her and said, "When our Ah Bai grows up, the husband will be old.

At that time, Ranbai was angry for a long time for this, but was coaxed by Mr. a snowman.

She's actually nice.

Just give her a candy.

"Three combs are worry-free."

Now that Bai has grown up, he can comb his hair with his own hands.

It's a pity that Mr. Bai couldn't see how A Bai grew up.

Ranbai learned what he used to look like, and he picked up the wooden comb for him with his own hands.

The person in the mirror smiled, and although she covered her eyes with plain silk, she was still open: "May it be as A Bai said."

Even if you don't see each other every year, be safe every year.

That was what she had thought.

From now on, she will have today every year, and every year will have today.

Endless.

"Sir, we will be fine in the future."

"it is good."

Don't ask about the past, don't say regrets, respect the future, and respect each other.

Mo Chen stretched out his hand: "Come and pull the hook."

Dye Bai smiled and rolled his eyes: "Retract."

"A liar is a puppy."

Tail fingers hooked, thumbs stamped.

Two hands clasped together.

It was two people who had walked for a long time in the cold night, running towards each other, and finally reunited.

In those dark days, not only she was in hell, but he too.

so what?

They will come out of the abyss and do their best to embrace each other.

We are fine.

It will be fine in the future.

Live well, live well together.

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