On the other side, Yae Kamiko, who had just arrived in Daozuma, didn't even have time to rest for a while. As soon as she got off the boat, she rushed to the Yae Hall to publish his novels for Su Luo. I have to say that although Su Luo is not serious sometimes, he The writing is still possible.
"Editor-in-Chief, when will these books be released?"
A person in charge of Yae Hall came over to ask Yae Kamiko, the latter obviously didn't wake up, and looked at the person in charge with a dazed expression, and it took her a while to understand what he said
When will it be released?
Yae Kamiko nodded her chin. Although she often quarreled with Su Luo, she couldn't be careless about releasing a new book, but she couldn't keep her head clear now, so she was very entangled.
"Forget it, you guys choose a day to release it, I can't do it anymore, I'm going to sleep."
Looking at Yae Miko's tired face, what can the people in charge say? They all said that they will definitely choose a good day to publish Mr. Yuechu's new work. .
Su Luo and the others who were in Liyue listened to the chief miner's explanation, and drew sketches on the ground while Zhongli glanced at Su Luo's sketch without any trace. For a while, he didn't know how to complain.
Fortunately, Paimon spoke up.
"If God's writing level is full, it must be in exchange for your painting skills."
What Paimeng said this time was very tactful. Su Luo, the person involved, looked at the paintings he drew, and they didn't seem to be that ugly. Why do these people always say that their faces are very ugly?
Besides, isn't this a sketch? Do I want to make a sketch as delicate as Mr. Abedo's? This is too embarrassing.
Fortunately, the mine chief saw that Su Luo was at a loss.
"Anyway, that's the general situation. I don't know anything else, but you can ask my few remaining employees when you get there."
From the expression of the chief miner, he knew that he was not lying, so Su Luo and Yingmei looked at each other and stretched out their claws to Zhongli. The latter was caught off guard by the two men and almost threw them out Fortunately, he held back at a critical moment.
Some helplessly glanced at the two guys holding his arms, and sighed, he knew that Su Luo was shameless, but he didn't know when Yingmei would become like this. ?
I really don't know what to say about these two guys, what can Zhongli do.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell you a story, you sit and go."
Zhongli was a little helpless, but the two people who succeeded did not care what the reason was for him to tell them the story, as long as he heard it anyway.
Seeing that Zhongli agreed to them, Su Luo and Yingmei immediately turned into good babies and sat with the mine chief and the mysterious man.
Zhongli's voice is very pleasant, and Yin Luo and the others are fascinated by it:
In the depths of this mountain sleeps a dragon older than the mountains. In his long slumber he dreamed of carriages and palaces of the moon.
In his dream, the Dragon King once again saw the partner he had followed. ". "If we cross the mountains on your back, can we reach the Moon Palace?" This is the dream of the Dragon King, in his unknown sleep.
Sometimes, he would wake up in pain, remembering what he said that day, remembering that day he angered that person, and they went on the opposite path from then on:
"I have brought peace to this land with you, but I will tear the mountains apart and make them sharp like the teeth of dragons, and they will destroy everything you have built (of Nozhao) and turn this city into Ruins."—Why would he say such a thing?
He clearly loves this land that shares fond memories with that person, and he clearly loves the little humans who gather under their wings.
Why did things become like this——Sometimes, the trapped Dragon King would fall into this kind of thinking. But this thought quickly dissipated, because he remembered the ending of the story
The scorching arrow that pierced his body, the suffocation when his neck was firmly stuck, the indifferent and sharp gaze from the golden eyes that made his heart feel like a knife. .
