The solar system is broken

"Are you testing my patience?"

Ziwei's face was filled with murderous intent. Uncooperative blue-blooded people are not good blue-blooded people.

Keng!

A short dagger was pulled out from his arms.

The luster of the bronze texture glowed eerily under the dim candlelight.

If you don't agree, you'll die. There's nothing wrong with this logic.

The writer looked at the cold light of bronze, expressionless, and just played a game, I'm afraid of a chicken!

Reload when you die. Am I afraid of you, an NPC? I’m definitely not a coward.

He held his neck high and refused to accept it.

But...can we discuss the matter of eating kidneys?

The dark night is getting deeper, and the buzzing insects are chirping again and again.

The pine forest at the top of the canyon is densely packed with birds that are resting after a hard day's work.

Only the dark dominant owl hovered quietly in the sky, overlooking Qiucheng.

Flying over the fields and past the small thatched house, he saw two warriors happily counting copper coins, and the rattling water mill was still spinning as before.

The small stream gurgled constantly, and the fish at night would float up and spit out a bubble or two from time to time.

The owl fluttered its wings and flew close to the water, frightening the one or two fish into the cracks in the rocks at the bottom of the river.

Everything is so sparse and ordinary.

Suddenly, under the big oak tree, a shrill scream broke the tranquility of the night.

The owl was startled and almost fell into the water.

He shook his wings and soared into the sky.

"Ah~~~"

"Woo~~~"

"Eh!!!"

Very rhythmic.

That night, the night watchman listened to the screams all night long, the kind that was different.

In the middle of the night, the man inside had torn vocal cords, and the sound he made was as dry as sawed wood.

The sound was so harsh that the three night watchmen covered their ears and sat under the oak tree all night.

The priest played all night, and when the sun came up, Zi slightly held his waist, walked out, and let out a long breath facing the rising sun.

He murmured in a low voice, "This man is tough enough!"

Three soldiers, you looked at me and I looked at you, and we all saw something strange in each other's eyes.

The priest's preferences changed again.

The sun slanted from the temple door and shone on the vermilion pillars. The writer lowered his head and lay quietly on the ground with his hands.

On the stone floor, there is a pool of blue-black liquid that has not dried up.

The area where the broken arm was broken had scabs on it, and there were even two small bumps.

The writer's face became even paler, with no blood at all.

After a night of torture, the writer kept watching his skin crack, heal, be cut open again by a bronze blade, and then heal again.

Countless times.

In the end, Ziwei picked off the entire flesh of the writer's hand piece by piece, and then violently broke his bones.

All this was done while the writer was awake, and the heart-wrenching pain made the writer hoarse.

The so-called alienation is to distinguish and persecute people who are different from oneself. (Nietzsche)

Blue blood is the sin of those who travel through time, and they can only be persecuted.

But what the writer is speechless about is that the other person didn’t say what he was going to do. He just wanted to kill him. If he said he was going to die, he would cut him with a knife.

Let’s talk about the conditions~

The priest waved his hand and said, "Send the man to the side room."

This ancestral temple is not a stand-alone building. The side room is a corridor building without a platform next to it, which can be regarded as an auxiliary building.

It was used to house the priest's servants and guests. As for the priest himself, he lived in the tiled roof in the back hall.

The house has a sloping roof covered with thatch, the chestnut bamboo is unpainted, and the wooden rafters are unpainted.

But it can be regarded as an extremely luxurious house.

It is four rooms deep and three rooms wide. The room in the front left is the room of the maid (actually a slave).

There are bamboo curtain partitions throughout the house, with a few pieces of Gebu floating on them.

The dark couch, low tables, and several bronze tripods and large guis are placed on them, which can be regarded as high-end configuration.

A little girl who looked like a teenager (perhaps she already had three figures) saw a samurai carrying a young man in.

Without saying anything, he picked up a shallow basin with kudzu vines, filled half a basin of water into the large pottery jar in the backyard, and then poured the solid powdered rice ears in the jar into the basin.

Dip it into a cloth and carefully wipe it on the broken arm.

I guess it was a special potion.

The priest gave instructions to several warriors, and several people were guarding the corridor in the side room.

Ziwei rode a horse and went out.

Before leaving, I took a meaningful look in the direction of the writer's room.

This is how the matter came to an end.

However, anyone with a discerning eye knows that Ziwei never thought of letting the writer go.

From that time on, there was a shackled young man beside the shallow stream. His face was pale, and he was looking at the high distance in a daze.

And beside him were a silent warrior and a working girl.

The little girl is very beautiful, but she has too many calluses on her hands.

He is very well-behaved and knows how to cook and starch clothes.

From a few words, the writer roughly understood the tragic fate of this poor Zhou girl.

"Writer," the little girl wiped the sweat from her forehead, raised her head, and glanced at the writer sitting on the stone.

"Huh?" The writer looked at the strange sky blankly.

There are two suns there, one is very bright and the other is also very bright.

"What did you do before?"

The little guy is very curious about blue-blooded people.

However, the old lady before was not friendly, and she kept beating and scolding the red-blooded man when she saw her.

"Keyboard type," the writer sighed.

"keyboard?"

"An input connected to the information display..." The writer paused. This was impossible for a girl in the feudal period to understand.

"You don't understand."

"Hmm~" The little girl gave Gebu a squeeze.

The peculiarity of the sky reminded the writer of the three-body configuration.

However, after several days of observation, the writer found that this was unlikely to be a three-body configuration.

The sun above our head is very conscientious and is constantly rotating, but from time to time there will be two suns.

The writer speculates that it may be a binary star or a pulsar. The center of the planet is two stars orbiting each other.

Unlike the three bodies, the Wrangler planet rotates outside the mutual orbit of the binary stars, and is not on the same plane as the motion trajectories of the two central celestial bodies.

However, this is just a conjecture and there is no way to verify it.

Dangdangdang~

The little girl took a stick and hit Gebu's clothes hard. The flowing water easily removed the stains on the clothes.

The sound of pounding clothes and the sound of frogs in the paddy fields complement each other.

The writer also noticed a problem.

This planet may be much smaller than Blue Star.

In fact, gravity can be felt very intuitively.

The body's jumping ability is significantly improved.

Looking at the curvature of the flat land, the writer was surprised to find that it was larger, but it was just an intuition...

However, just like the above conjecture, this is a subjective feeling and cannot be used as a rational judgment.

"This sun is too fierce."

The little girl raised her hand to cover her eyebrows, squinting her eyes, her powdery face dripping with sweat, she was so cute.

Is this what is called, a girl is afraid of being shaded by the sun?

...

"Xiao Li." The writer called softly.

"Um?"

"Are you married?"

"What is marriage?"

"That's it..." the writer thought for a moment, "finding a person of the opposite sex and preparing to give birth to a little Li."

"Huh?!" There was no expression on Xiao Li's face, as if she didn't understand at all, "What is the opposite sex?"

"Is it someone like me?"

"A...person like you."

"Why are you still swearing..."

"Then what is swearing?"

...

...

The writer has reason to believe that she is lying to herself, but unfortunately there is no evidence.