I gave it a funeral
The boy in white stumbled forward in the snow, unable to hear him, and reflected on his rebellion to the sky amid the lonely urging in the dark night.
Sorry, I was wrong...
Give her the light she deserves;
Let me beg you.
He cried as if he had lost something, but what did the world have to do with him?
The peace of mind that Yu Ling seeks is so profound, who can bear it?
Yes, what does he like?
Who can respond?
He released his last persistence back into the mountains and forests, and it roared into the pale world:
What have you lost!
What have you lost?
The heavy rain is pouring, and this world is really beautiful.
Can't see clearly...
This snow threw Yu Ling's pride into the sea.
Please, I'm having pure love, how can I lose?
I have never planned any gifts.
yes……
I just used you to suppress my death and integrate the surging intentions purely because of your incomparable beauty...
How should I say this? In this endless rain, which rib should I, a whale growing out of the mud, use to carve love for you?
In other words, I had lost my identity in my madness, and the young boy Shiqi I made the promise to jumped out of the moon robe...
I use my eyes to look down on your back at this moment, moonlight, am I just following you like that?
It's so far, so far, how should I express it to you along this journey?
The heavy snow mixed with the heavy rain made him freeze to death. In a daze, the fourteen-year-old boy held an umbrella and smiled equally wantonly, laughing at his own miserable fate.
"Eat some fruit, I've been waiting for you in the cemetery for a long time. I told you that this world is like a bird, and you can't fly out with any kind of wings.
"Hahahaha! You are here after all, why are you thinking about leaving again? I treat you so well, why don't you leave some for me, and always want to bend for your next life?"
He is very free and easy, and never cries, but he allows the moon-shangpao to stay:
"Are you tired? I see you are choking and can't say a word. Where did the pain start?
"I have almost forgotten this dream-like memory. Do you think I understand you better, or do you understand me better?
"Hahahaha! I brought a gift to this world, it's its funeral! Yeah! - Am I awesome? Isn't it very romantic?
"I'm telling you, here is my coffin, square-"
Chatting incessantly can be noisy.
Yu Ling was so tired, so tired. His skeleton was taken away and he was hanging upside down in the sea. What was left was this pile of rotten flesh, which was left at the bottom of the pit like a tree. He was like a deaf-mute. Now, he has lost Sign language to live by.
I am so tired……
"You must be asleep."
The bright young man is handsome, with a kind and peaceful look on his face.
"You always want the best, so you must suffer a loss."
The young man looked at the blue sky next to his bamboo: "I know that I shaped the sky. Ninety-nine percent of the gas comes from living things. Without my persistence, we would not have worked hard for hundreds of millions of years. , how could there be such a magnificent planet?
"I know it all, so I know that my tragedy is doomed. The fault is not mine, it's because there are no seniors, without them, so even if I put my feet up, even if I grow wings, even if I grow upside down, I will still be far away. Don't open this dilemma.
"It's not me who's wrong, I'm a hero...
"So are they. We're just walking in the dark.
"Unfortunately, there is no record...
"Just let me write it.
"A long time ago, Parrot Ling rode a tall horse. He chased the most beautiful star in the universe on the grassland, and then later——!
"Very important!
"Here he comes, that young man is unparalleled!
“I have never seen a more enthusiastic and heroic young man than him!
"He said his name was Deng Xingyu..."
The history of Fangmo is the wind, and the wind is the narrator. They run wild in the wilderness with their unique stories!
So romantic!
I want to go back!
I want to go back to that dry desert!
Let me die, I belong there.
The fourteen-year-old boy held the cowhide diary tightly in his arms, and two lines of bloody tears flowed down. His vision blurred into a ball, and the scarlet blood had no home in this strange world!
How could the blood of our young man from Fangmo flow out here!
The child stood up and looked at the seventeen-year-old Yu Ling and the puddle of rotten flesh.
"Although I don't want to say it, you really disappointed me. I didn't expect that after three years, I would actually regress. After another two years, I have regressed even more."
He turned his gaze to the galaxy, silent, because it wanted to say a lot, he understood it, and he held his diary tightly.
Don't worry, I won't let that bitch change a word of yours.
I will accompany you to death and take you to the depths of the River Styx. I will tell your highness how proud that young man is. I will tell her the story of Fang Mo and the unparalleled young man.
deficit.
He lacks filial piety, justice, etiquette, and integrity.
He lost everything, so he learned to be quiet, because he really hated this damn world. He couldn't say a word of praise, but he couldn't say anything else. He could only maintain his current appearance and use the best to himself. Cruel way to stay damn proud.
Die!
I'm not afraid of that kind of thing.
The seventeen-year-old boy turned into a pool of water and flowed into the endless wilderness, while he continued to face his own thorns.
[He still did not surrender. 】
[All the young men in Truman are as unruly and rebellious as him. 】
[At that time, I heard that your teeth fell out laughing. 】
[Yes, just like the Pure Land today, wherever you look, you can see the confident figures of our children. 】
There is no but, and needless to say, there is only such a remnant young man left in the world today, quiet and suspicious, but with a heart that will never be eroded.
He won.
There is no need to continue the performance. So far, the young man born on the tree has used his own invulnerability to carry it until only withering is left.
The bell is ringing, Ling'er thought.
good.
The wind of the galaxy blows to the grassland. Needless to say, there is a voice that is trekking. His name is Mo.
I don’t know why, but I suddenly thought of you.
The yellow sand formed a painting in mid-air, with dense medals on it, and he was also a part of it.
That happened a long time ago, so long that the wind in Fangmo was intermittent and hesitant. All the legends, all the legends of losers, were only worth mentioning afterwards.
was dissolved.
The young man is walking in the endless wilderness with the wind. There is a star. It has no body, it is just a star. It hangs high on the object called "starry sky". It is just a concept, just like Mo in this barren hill. Walking alone is like Parrot Ling holding her diary next to the bamboo.
One more person to go...
He was on the seaside, walking through a world where the sun and moon were indistinguishable, with countless alleys juxtaposed, listening to the message from the kite:
Every piece of peach blossom promise, this trip has no return date.
