Morning Star

"You..." Chu Furong was angry and worried when she saw her spit out the medicine. She hurriedly supported her and helped her to smooth her back.

Chujiu vomited so much that tears came out.

After calming down, I sat on the ground, leaning against a tree trunk, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.

"Why are you still crying?" Chu Furong asked in confusion. She held her sleeve and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, and then wiped away her tears.

"..."

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

It is said that people miss home the most when they are sick and uncomfortable. It is true. The more uncomfortable she is at this moment, the more she misses her family. How can she not cry?

Mo Xinglan pursed his lips, took a few steps forward and squatted beside her.

When Chu Furong saw him coming, she stopped what she was doing, looked at him and then at Chu Jiu, sighed, stood up and walked to Gao Yashan who was lying on the ground.

When Chujiu saw Mo Xinglan, he remembered the scene just now and his stomach began to ache.

The pale, colorless lips trembled but no sound came out.

Seeing that his face was not looking good and his lips were pale, she smiled bitterly, raised her hand and touched his face, gradually touching his lips, and smiled: "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell again?"

"..." He said nothing and let her touch his face.

Her hot hands touched his cold face, causing his face to heat up slightly as well.

His heart was pounding as if it was about to jump out of his throat.

Suddenly, perhaps because his body couldn't bear such violent beating, he started to feel dizzy.

He took a deep breath, took the hand that was caressing his lips and placed it on her leg, then sat down next to her again.

He took out a small alchemy furnace from his storage ring and let it float in front of him. He flicked his fingertips towards the bottom of the furnace, and a string of blue flames burned in the air below the furnace. Then he took out a few spiritual herbs and put them into the furnace.

Chujiu was so shocked by his series of actions that he forgot to lower his jaw.

This guy can also make pills? !

Chu Furong was also shocked and stared with her eyes wide open. This was the first time she saw an alchemist making an elixir with her own eyes, and at such a close distance. It once again refreshed her view of Mo Xinglan. She looked at Mo Xinglan as if he were a monster.

I can't help but wonder if he is really only seventeen years old. If he is really only seventeen years old, with high cultivation and an alchemist, is he a monster?

I also heard that alchemists are divided into seven levels, just like elixirs, and only alchemists of the fourth level and above can use spiritual flames to suspend in mid-air to make elixirs. But his fire didn't look like spiritual flames at all.

Mo Xinglan stared at the alchemy furnace and ignored the shocked expressions of the two men.

The faint blue light danced gently on his face, making him look even more cool and elegant.

Chujiu huddled up in a ball, shivering from the cold, and everything in front of her was a little blurry. But she still looked at Mo Xinglan.

Watching him use his spiritual energy, I recalled the words the old shopkeeper had told me after he fainted. I don't know if he has recovered after so many days. But judging from his face now, he should not be fully recovered yet.

So he said worriedly: "The old shopkeeper told you to try not to use your spiritual energy. You were..."

She paused for a moment and said, "You used your power to injure so many people and collapsed the cave. How are you? You need to rest more."

She was so cold that she could hardly speak clearly, and her head was dizzy and everything seemed to be spinning.

Mo Xinglan's eyelashes trembled when he heard her words. He looked over and tightened his hands on his knees. He turned his head and asked instead of answering, "I killed them all. Are you afraid of me?"

Chujiu was used to his evasiveness. He paused for a moment and chuckled. His throat was a little dry and he spoke hoarsely: "If it were me, I would also want to use a knife to chop people."

She didn't answer directly, but one sentence expressed her meaning.

She was afraid of him, not because he killed others, but because he would kill her. If he killed someone else, she would not be afraid.

Mo Xinglan understood the meaning, but was still not satisfied with her answer.

It didn't take long for a third-grade pill to be refined.

Mo Xinglan took out the pill, put away the alchemy furnace, put the pill to her lips and whispered, "Eat it."

"Will it be bitter?" She was not in a hurry to eat it. After the precedent of the pill that Chu Furong gave her just now, she already had a traumatic experience with pills.

Mo Xinglan replied: "Not bitter, sweet."

She glanced at him, and seeing the serious look in his eyes, she opened her mouth and took the pill.

After trying to bite it gently, the pill melted and was swallowed by her. She smiled and said, "It really is sweet. It's strangely sweet and delicious."

The pill didn't work immediately, so she still felt cold and continued to curl up into a ball, hugging her body.

Mo Xinglan sat cross-legged beside her, with his eyes lowered and not moving.

Chujiu looked at him. Because the medicine had not yet taken effect, her head was still a little dizzy. She gently leaned her shoulder against his shoulder and said in a trembling and hoarse voice as if she could not help it: "Mo, Mo Xinglan, why do I feel, still, still so cold, can you hug me?"

After a pause, she continued, "No, I'm not trying to take advantage of you, I'm just really cold. And you, your clothes are too thin, too thin, they can't keep you warm."

"..."

Mo Xinglan's body had already frozen when she came closer, and when he heard her trembling and stammering as she spoke this conversation, his heart began to beat wildly again.

He turned his head to look at the little face that had turned red again due to the fever and her watery eyes, and swallowed.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to support her, moving his body and leaning his back against the tree trunk. With a little force, he lifted her into his arms like a rag doll, tugged at her clothes, and held her in his arms.

In fact, his arms weren't very warm, but it was better than nothing. And she asked him to hold her.

But sick people's brains don't work well, so they can't help but want to complain.

"You, your arms don't seem to be very warm, warm."

That being said, she moved closer to him, holding onto his clothes with both hands and pulling her legs together. She wanted to get inside him. However, she still couldn't feel his warmth.

I can't help but wonder, this person might be made of ice?

Mo Xinglan frowned at her movements and held her hand tightly. He whispered in her ear: "Don't move, or I'll throw you out."

If he wasn't warm, why was she clinging to him so closely?

After hearing what he said, Chujiu really stopped moving and nestled in his arms, closing her eyes quietly.

In this silence, some tiny sounds at night are amplified.

She raised her head and looked at him in confusion: "Mo Xinglan, your heartbeat is so fast. Are you feeling unwell? How about I..."

"Shut up!" He chuckled and held her hands tightly so that she could not move.

Chujiu was a little breathless in his embrace, but she didn't dare to move. She rubbed her head against his neck: "Mo Xinglan, you're hugging me too tightly. I can't breathe."

Mo Xinglan was irritated by her, frowned, tilted his neck, and relaxed a little.

Why does she ask for so much?