97. The Lassards, my mess.
Lassard, my mess.
Red and Green: True love doesn’t end
The door was opened, and a strange girl stood at the door, with a body full of material, but covered in dirt.
The sun in the highlands, tanned her face black, led to white flowers under the shorts, with their legs pierced.
It doesn’t make people fall in love, but it makes an adult man think differently.
The girl said, “Brother, can you take a shower in your room? I’m sorry.
I said, “Go ahead. I’m sorry.
I put the girl in the house, and I added, “Do you have a shampoo?” You have a bath? Don’t wash it in half and ask me for it.”
1.
You know, Tibet is a backpacker’s paradise.
A backpacker, who plays self-help, like the Zen Man’s novels, can probably divide a “clean-clothing pie” and a “dirty pie”.
The “clean clothes” themselves are not so bad, and may even be very rich, choosing to be a backpacker, trying to get free from the constraints of customizing business tourism, to control the content of travel, to play freely, and not to walk away.
“Stain pies” may not have any money, or they don’t have any money, but on the way to the backpack trip, they look and play “bad money” — poor tourists.
The two groups do not fight, and they prefer to stay in youth hostels to communicate with each other.
This exchange, which includes travel information, photography skills, ticket evasion, the story of the encounter…
Sometimes when you talk, you do it.
In Lhasa, if you want to sleep with a good backpacker, you will choose a single or double room for the Youth Hotel.
Most of the poor tourists choose the mains of the Youth Hostel, which is the cheapest.
There’s only a bed, there’s no bathroom, you need to go outside and take a shower.
So at the Youth Hotel in Lhasa, if you’re in a room with a shower, it’s common to be knocked on by poor tourists.
I used to take a bath when I was a dirty pie.
And then it was a “clean-clothes pie” and it was scratched.
But I just take a shower and I don’t.
If you don’t want to do it, you’ll do it.
You know, Liangshan’s good-song seats in the Water Pass are in threes, threes, threes, and the rest are mainly political.
And it’s a lot more simple than that.
Just one, look at luck.
The main shop of the Lassard Youth Hostel, in the order in which you registered at the front desk, is available at random, with no distinction between men and women.
So when you’re in the Chase, you turn to the left, and you might see a stomping man; to the right, you might see a lady.
Don’t teach, you know you have to turn to the right.
Even if she doesn’t like you, it’s better to give you a back, a back, a back, a head, than to see the head of a stomping man.
And, of course, if it’s all a stupendous man, don’t complain.
You can sleep down and reflect on your character.
In addition to this, there are three prominent paintings in the Chase.
First, not by age, but by the order of residence.
Second, we’re all open and well-known, often singing, drinking, playing games, bragging, scolding, talking about love.
Third, you’re basically not going to sleep in the morning. There are so many things that we all talk about, we talk about Tibetan travel stories, we talk about life, we don’t “whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
So I’m particularly fond of the Chase — not only for the cost, but also for the same side of the lake and the beauty of the lake.
It’s not over yet — even if you’re poor, you’re all stomping on the right and left, and then you’re determined not to go physical, or you’ll be forced to go.
If you don’t believe me, I’ll tell you the first story.
2.
I’m the sixth to stay in La Salle.
When I pushed the door into the room, and I didn’t put down my big backpack, I heard the house brushing and groaning, “It’s a fucking old man! I’m sorry.
A quick fight with the first five to find out they played the game last night, and the third was the last loser.
You lose, you get punished.
Now that it’s all the old men who keep living in the shop, you’ve put a penalty on me. I’m sorry.
So I walked into the room and everyone else was disappointed.
The reason for the disease is that the subject of punishment automatically disappears.
I joined the game that night and I became a loser.
It was clear that the goods had been set up in an ambush and cooperated, and that the subject had been put on me.
This logic, like a crouch, is that old people always bully new people.
Except for the numbers, the subject of punishment hasn’t changed — “If Seven is a girl, you have to chase her!” I’m sorry.
I felt the weight of the three before.
‘Cause the boss said, ‘You can’t be too fat and fat, you can’t eat meat.’ I’m sorry.
So I’m the only one who wants the seventh backpacker to come in, and it’s better to be him, not her.
I can think of it with my toes, and the attitude of the other five is totally against me.
And then the next day, a “long hair” came in!
She’s seven.
Old Seven showed up, except for me, where the entire Chase people were applauding, and all sorts of bad laughs in my heart.
Then, in the first book of the journey of the Seven Tibets, I saw the saying, “As soon as I walked into the main shop, I concluded that there was a house full of pigs! I’m sorry.
Of course, that’s the story.
I don’t think you’ve ever had that experience.
A strange girl walked into the house, and five men laughed, avoiding people’s actions, eyes and mouths, and commanded you.
“You go, help people unload their backpacks. I’m sorry.
“You go and introduce yourself from the boss to the fifth. I’m sorry.
“Go and make a pot of sweet tea. I’m sorry.
“You ask him how many times he came to Lhasa. I’m sorry.
Ask him if he has a boyfriend…
The girl turned over her identity card and went downstairs to the front desk for additional registration.
These five men, who have been silent for half a day, like Katyusha, who immediately opened fire, have more words than one!
“Hey, Six, you lost yesterday on purpose! I’m sorry.
“Ooh! Such a beautiful girl! I’m sorry.
“Hey, Six, let’s change the bunk. I’m sorry.
“Auction Six! Oh, no, the name of Six! Six, give us a price. Let’s race! I’m sorry.
“Six, I’ll give you three days, or you’ll get up and go!”
“Six, I don’t know if it’s your favorite, but it’s my favorite dish…”
And when I heard the footsteps of the Sevens, they were quiet in the air, and they turned their eyes back on each other, no, no.
Let’s just say I don’t want to go through it again in my life!
You’re still expecting a follow-up story?
Come on, this game can only last one day, can’t stay the night.
On the one hand, as long as you take the gamble and take a series of commands, we’re all happy.
On the other hand, once in the evening, the game ends automatically.
“Why are you acting so weird at first?” I’m sorry.
The truth can never be held back and will surely be revealed.
Old 7-Ha-ha-ha smile.
Everybody laugh.
Smile over.
So, it’s just a youth story, not a sex story.
It documents our youth as backpackers: wanton joy, complete openness, a willingness to tell each other stories, and a desire to talk about the end of sorrow.
And only at that age will you be released so completely.
And, perhaps, only in Lhasa’s trombone.
3.
A lot of Lhasa’s backpackers started in bed.
Or start in bed, and stop in bed.
Because Lassard has a Chase and a nightclub.
So Lassard is still a dead heaven.
Decays are like this — in Lhasa, often and repeatedly, there are always people who live in youth hostels and do not travel at all.
They sleep during the day and come out at night.
They — it’s them and them — don’t go to Budara, don’t go to Zhao Temple…
So they’re not really backpackers with them.
These people are specializing in bars, restaurants, discos, KTV and so on.
When they were hanging out with them, they had stories of real and fake stories like lost jobs, failed start-ups, just broken love, divorced cheating, divorced cheating…
Anyway, stories are about derelict as a kernel.
However, they are packaged and labelled to enhance persuasiveness and seduction.
Under these packagings and labels, there are various or hidden purposes – inspirational, stimulating, glamorous, story-seeking …
You might ask, “Story, isn’t it? You don’t have to travel thousands of miles to Lhasa. You can have stories in Beijing, or in Chengdu’s alley. I’m sorry.
Indeed.
But on this channel, Lhasa has its own unique superiority.
It’s exactly the corner of Lassard’s eight-block street.
You know, Lassard is unique and the biggest difference compared to the big cities in China.
It will make people who have never been to the highlands, people who have never been to Lhasa feel so new and so strange.
Sometimes, a great stranger would be a great mental protective film.
And it’s so new that it’s easy to relax, to open up, to break the line, and not to notice.
We all have strange protective film, and we open ourselves up; then we meet each other, and we can dry up and burn and forget.
So the Youth Hostel is a hotbed for encounters and stories — where you can quickly meet and be singled out as like-minded friends.
I mean, one night or a week.
I’ve seen a lot of stories like this in the youth hostel anyway.
So it seems to me that Lassard’s youth hotel is both wonderful and messy.
If you don’t believe me, I’ll tell you a second story.
It’s not a good story, I’ll tell you what I’ve been through.
I don’t know.
She’s called “The Little Devil” because she’s a monster.
Otherwise, the demon’s “husband” will not die with a hard-headed head, sinning with a yellow-faced woman, sinning with a son who is still studying in England, leaving a love nest alone with the demon, and a new life that needs more physical strength.
Of course, it wasn’t “dead” at first, but it was classified.
All right, well, we’ve seen a lot of old cows eating weed.
Like the estate man on top of Everest, who was strangled by a young woman?
The latter also confused “rich” and “nobility” in a silly way…
I don’t know which of them is starting to work, or which channel is getting tired of it, and the demon is grinding her “husband” and going to Tibet to see “poetry and far away.”
Her “husband” looked at her belly and couldn’t see her feet from her stomach; she remembered that she had gone to Liang with the demon, and that “poetry and far away” had been made by that altitude.
Tibet is higher than Liang, so he can’t go.
He couldn’t go on his own, and he couldn’t bear the soft and hard bubbles of the little demons.
When he said yes, he said, “The man is a pig’s elbow” and he felt relieved that the object was released.
This is interesting — after all, the “hog elbows” know “hog elbows.”
Don’t worry, he’ll have to trust someone to reassure him.
Bad luck. I became this guy.
I can’t help it. He’s not just my boss, he’s given me a couple of annual leave.
And the reason I took leave was to travel to Tibet without exception.
I’d love to travel to Tibet, but this time it’s no good.
Look at my undisguised displeasure, and the boss says, “Not an annual leave, but a paid job.” I’m sorry.
I’m not squeaking.
The boss plus a pound. I’m sorry.
I’m not squeaking.
The boss’s got the killer. Don’t come to work tomorrow if you don’t want to! I’m sorry.
I was forced to nod my head.
You know, there’s a job these days. It’s kind of a “Amit Buddha.”
And so, the little demons stood on the streets of Lhasa.
People have done their homework – the backpacker’s so-called swab is responsible for everything in the journey.
It has to be said that the demons are especially well placed.
There was no backpack for the backpacker and the demon insisted on holding his suitcase.
Of course I can live in a star hotel, but I can’t – I have to stay in a youth hotel, I’ve done my homework.
Booking tickets to Budala Palace? Don’t worry, I’ll come to Lassard and be lonely!
Oh, no, no, no, no.
I thought, “Whatever.” The boss gave me three assignments.
The first task is to play well.
He did not say, however, that it was only good to go to Budara Palace, Robrinka, Daho Temple, Sara Temple, Cheolpa Temple, etc.
It’s good to play lonely.
The second task is “Safety, don’t turn back.”
It’s not hard.
At your insinuation age, if you do what I say, and don’t do it, with my many years of experience in hiding, you will not be turned against you.
Or even if I do, I’ll take you to a hospital or I’ll drop you up.
The third task, the boss, did not make it quite clear that he had only tumbled around.
I figured it out myself. That’s “watch.”
It’s not that hard.
Something I can’t keep an eye on!
At the Youth Hostel, I said two single rooms, and the demon is gone.
The leprechaun’s face says he wants to live in the Chase!
I calmly said it was a good thing.
I took the little demons to the Chase, and I got a glimpse of the smell of the fragrance, the seven-legged-legged man…
The little demons were lost in battle and fled.
That’s funny! It’s not that you carry a travel bag, you get a little more equipment, you turn into a backpacker.
The demons fled back to the front desk and shouted, “I want two!” Two! I’m sorry.
I thought the demon had spoken wrong, and said to the Tibetan women in the front desk: “Two, one each.” I’m sorry.
“One, two, two.” I’m sorry.
“We can’t live together.” I’m sorry.
“Why not?” I’m sorry.
I was in a hurry, and I said, “No, I’m afraid it’s not the right place.”
“You can’t stand it! I’m sorry.
It didn’t take much, it was a Tibetan girl from the front desk, with his mouth shut.
I live in a double room, and I’m still talking about it.
The devil sits on the bed and wanders around his legs. Didn’t the boss ask you to stare at me? It doesn’t live in a room. What do you say? Peeping outside the window? I’m sorry.
And I said in my heart, “I will not stare at it,” and I thought, “This is a piece of paper, and God knows well that you know what I know, but how can I be so silky and smooth when you are so clean?” I’m sorry.
Look me in the face, and stop, and the little demon beat me up: “O my brother, why are you so dizzy?” We don’t live together. You have to keep an eye on me. We live together. You keep an eye on yourself. I’m sorry.
It’s a random, straight-minded attitude, and it makes me feel bad.
It has to be acknowledged that this sentence, while explicit, makes good sense and is very practical in its guidance.
It makes sense, but it provokes me.
Since so many trips to Tibet and so many trips to the Youth Hostel in Lhasa, when have I suffered so much?
What am I?
The doorman?
Then give me a door that I don’t want to steal.
In front of him, in the eyes of strange men, is an attractive, sophisticated peach.
And who can stop her, her own stupid, tactless monkey, who wants to do something?
Well, now that you’re open and straight, I’ll show you.
I lit a cigarette, “We’re not going around either, girl! We agreed first — you play yours, I play mine; you don’t care how you play me. There’s one. Don’t talk bald to the boss when you get back to Beijing. I’m sorry.
The little demon smiled as if he were happy.
She croaked around, stood up, came to me, sat next to me, pulled a cigarette out of my mouth and smoked herself. You really don’t bring mud and water. I love it! I’m sorry.
I moved my ass, I lit a cigarette, “I don’t need you to like it, you like it, you like it.” I’ll live next door to you.”
The demon sprained his head at me and threw up a cigarette ring. “Live for one night, I won’t eat you! I can’t breathe right now. You said the first night in the Highlands is the best way to protect myself from the back. I’m sorry.
I nod my head.
I don’t care how little demons fly themselves, but I can’t ignore the fact that she’s probably the opposite.
I took off the smoke from her mouth, “Then don’t talk now, don’t smoke! Both of them are highly counterproductive. I’m sorry.
“I’ll take a shower, okay? I’m sorry.
I shake my head, “More! You lie on your bed, rest in peace…”
It’s the first time I’ve heard my voice from the beginning.
It’s not a bad thing to stand up to this guy, but like many people in the early plateau, the first night could be insomnia due to lack of oxygen and unsuitability.
You can’t sleep, you can’t talk, you can’t talk, you can’t talk. “Hey, you’ve come to Lhasa so many times, you can sleep in the highlands. I’m sorry.
And I was like, “Don’t worry, it’s on your own. If it hurts, I’ll get you a highland peace. I’m sorry.
“I don’t want the Highland Anne!” I’m sorry.
I said, “Don’t pull! I’m sorry.
The demons were still unable to sleep, and suddenly he said, “No, let’s join forces. Come and make me laugh.” I’m sorry.
“I am not a Willow.” I’m sorry.
The demon didn’t understand. I know you’re not Liu. I’m sorry.
I couldn’t help but laugh, “It’s horrible to have a body and a culture. I’m sorry.
“What does that mean?” I’m sorry.
We said: ‘I am not a willow’ I’m sorry.
The demon understood, and she said, “What a willow! I can see you! I’m sorry.
I don’t answer, I think I do, but I don’t.
After all, looking for a job is more difficult than looking for a girl.
The demon woke up at noon.
Out of the shower room, the demon was wrapped in a bathrobe and had her hair polished.
She’s had her first night in Lhasa, and there should be no backlash.
And I’ve had my first night, of course I’m not talking about Goblin.
I don’t care if my last name is Yoo.
As a result, both judgements were wrong.
I finished my camera bag and stood up and said, “I’ll get you a room at the front desk, and I’ll take you to dinner with Magiam.” After dinner, you can come with me to the Zaki Temple to worship the gods and play with yourself. I’m sorry.
The demons don’t eat, they don’t play, they don’t pay. Magiam is that… that…”
I answered: “Kuraoka Kaso.” I’m sorry.
The demon nod his head. “Yes, yes, yes! Magiam is the lover of Kurooka-chul, right?”
I nod my head.
“Well, go eat first! I’m sorry.
And when I opened the door, the little devil added a line behind me: “Don’t change places, let’s do this.” I’m sorry.
I turned around and watched her hesitate.
The demon said she was hungry.
I’ll have an idea when I’m full.
“Son, live together, but we’ll have to make a deal. I’m sorry.
The demon shakes his head and says don’t listen.
So I opened the door to the mountains: “You play with me and you play with me.” You don’t embarrass me, I don’t embarrass you. I’m sorry.
That’s why the demons are bowing down.
“No one shall return at night, but at night shall return to the young and let me see. I’m sorry.
“What good do you see?” You’re a thief!
I’m not going to argue, I’m just saying, hey, smile, “You can go anywhere, you can go, you can go in the street, you can go in this restaurant.” I’m only responsible for your safety in Lhasa. I’m sorry.
The demon thought, nod his head.
“Article 2: “You play as you like,” which is not to be told to the boss. I’m sorry.
The demon nodded his head and beat him up with the ogre and the ogre. I’m sorry.
I’m not refuting it, I’m just laughing, “Of course, I’m responsible. When you get back to Beijing, I hope your husband feels the same way. I’m sorry.
There’s something in it, and it’s the devil’s turn.
“Third: Don’t get drunk. I’m afraid you’re a traitor. I’m sorry.
Little demons can’t.
I explained, “You don’t have to do it, basically in Lhasa, and you won’t have to do it.” So drink, but not drink. I’m sorry.
The demon noded her head, at least she understood.
When I saw the little demon show some gratitude, I turned off the channel, and I said, “Don’t even think about me. If it wasn’t for the Goblins, I’d really like you to gobble! I’m sorry.
“Why did I bother you?”
I sneezed at a cigarette and said, “If you’re on the other side, we’ll have to get up in the first place.” Then I’ll be done with my sniveling and hard work. I’m sorry.
The demons stole the smoke from my mouth and said, “It’s hard work, isn’t it? I’m gonna fucking piss you off! I’m sorry.
I pulled out a cigarette, “Sister, you only smoke from someone else’s mouth. I’m sorry.
The demon looked at me, and he threw a cigarette ring in my face.
I can’t help it.
The little demons laughed.
She smiled loudly and drew attention.
I pulled the demon out of the accident.
Except for a few photographs taken in front of Budara Palace, the demons have no more travels in Lhasa.
She had had a very good time, with different men taking her back to the youth hostel.
The man who brought her back saw me, and none of them was jealous, or even blinded.
We all know that “the heart is silent.”
We all know not to be more serious.
Or, no one’s going to be more serious.
7.
One night I was in my room, and the demon came back early.
I turned around, and I didn’t have time to ask. “And don’t take a piss and take a look at yourself.
The one who couldn’t stand it, I laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” I’m sorry.
I turned my head and looked at the screen of the computer and said, “How bad is it that the hunters cannot see the prey?” I’m sorry.
It’s been a long time.
Turning around again, I found little demons staring at me, with their chests up and down, without a word.
That’s not the way a little demon works — she’s big, but she can’t do anything, let alone delay control.
It was only then that I realized that I had an unwieldy joke, which was true but lethal.
Not just to kill that man.
I said “I’m sorry.”
The demons are quiet, noding, still angry.
I said, “I’m sorry.”
The demons were quiet and noded again.
I stood up…
The demon swayed me, pointed to the bathroom and started taking off her coat.
I had to sit down and keep doing my picture.
A little red in the eyes after the shower, probably crying.
The room was quiet and tasted like a little awkward.
“Let’s get a cigarette!” I’m sorry.
I pulled out a cigarette, put it in my mouth, lit it, turned my head.
The leprechaun slowly took the cigarette out of my mouth and took a sip of it. I’m a smoker and you’re laughing at me, “I’ll take it from someone else’s mouth, and I’ll reach out and you’ll fix this!” I’m sorry.
I smiled, I didn’t answer, and I knew it was okay.
I’m sure the demon sprayed a cigarette ring in my face and laughed.
But I laughed and cried.
“Do you think I’m bad and cheap?” I’m sorry.
I can’t answer that.
I know how the demon got in the first place, and I know how the boss’s wife used to make noises, block the door of the boss’s office and make a big noise.
I don’t want to lie.
But I can’t be honest.
“Thank you for the smoke.
I had to nod my head.
I know, the demon knows exactly the answer to my silence.
Lights out, the demons are asleep.
She couldn’t sleep, but she didn’t bother me.
So I said, “You’re the first time I’ve ever lived in a youth hotel, I’ve been traveling abroad, but I’ve never been less. How about two fun stories, my own experience, one in Lassard, one in Spain, to give you a baby bedtime story? I’m sorry.
You’re hitting on girls, or you’re making fun of people.
The little demons got it anyway.
She smiled and turned her head towards me.
8.
First bedtime story.
Lhasa Youth Hotel, this time the six-person top and bottom bunk.
Me and K. stayed in and stayed with two couples.
Spouses No. 1, a foreign lover for over two years, with girls from a southern city and boys from Beijing.
Spouses No. 2, the first foreign love, the boy from a northern city and the girl from Beijing.
Three groups were unknown to each other before they were admitted to the youth hostel.
The two couples quickly broke into one, and there was a lot of fun.
And then, when K and I bid farewell to Lhasa and set out to go to the no-man’s area, the couple were still two couples and still lived in the six-person room, just playing with a “scrambling.”
It was a two-way affair, after which they kept a second love, except that the distance from the other side had been significantly lengthened; at the same time, a new one had been updated.
What can I say?
The four of them are still ecstatic and seem to be “happy.”
Listen to the demon, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Then the demon said, “Fake, false!” Are you kidding me? I’m sorry.
I shook my head, “It’s true, it’s true.” I’m sorry.
The devil laughed for a while, and asked, “Did you not meet each other so many times? I’m sorry.
I hit him, “I’m not ugly. How come I didn’t?” I’m sorry.
“Speak one, speak one! That’s what I like to hear! I’m sorry.
The Devil is trying to jump into my bed.
I’m gonna stop, “Leave down, lie down! Why are you still excited about bedtime stories? Do you hear me?”
The devil smiles, pulls back his legs, pulls back into his bed, “Listen, listen! I have a Gossip Girl! I’m sorry.
9.
Second bedtime story.
As a traveler, I also like to stay in a youth hotel when travelling abroad.
Segovia, coordinates, a historic city in Spain.
I was staying in a youth hostel next to the Roman trough in the Old City, a very old house.
In order to maximize the use of guest rooms, the owner has made the space in them like a maze, so many small compartment doors appear crowded and irregular.
My room, in the hallway, is very close, with only a small window, a small table and a single bed.
One day, when I finished filming the evening in the old town and returned to the youth hostel, I looked in the dark corridor for a while to confirm my room number.
The room was also covered with a day of sunshine, which was a bit boring, and I opened the window and sewd the door to form a convection.
And then I lay on my bed and flipped my phone…
The door was opened, a cowboy backpack, with a scream, flying straight into my head!
I instinctively hid, and the cowboy bag fell on my shoulder, giving out the fragrance of French perfume.
There’s a nice foreign girl standing at the door and staring at me with surprise and shock.
She pointed her finger at me, pointed her finger at herself and pointed her finger at the room.
Apparently, what she meant was, “Did you go wrong or did I go wrong?” I’m sorry.
I pointed at her and shook my finger, saying, “Of course you went wrong!” I’m sorry.
The girl stepped back, looked at the door sign, laughed, and did go the wrong way.
She said “sorry” to me in French and smiled and turned away.
I closed the door, and I looked back and it was funny — I had a cowboy bag in my bed!
A few minutes later someone knocked on the door — no guess, or her.
The French girl shot herself in the head, which means she’s being mean, and spits out her tongue at me, pointing at the bag on the finger bed.
I gave her the bag, and the French girl was so cute, she squeezed her nose, she went away.
There’s only a light scent left in the room.
Soon enough, too.
After hearing it, it’s another haha laugh.
After laughing, the demon felt something wrong, “No, it’s funny, but it’s not sexy! I’m sorry.
I said, “Why not? The French girl is so hot, she’s pretty enough to meet me twice in a short time. I’m sorry.
The demon laughs, “Okay, okay, I can’t say you.” Why didn’t you try to hook up with someone and get laid? I’m sorry.
I sell, “Because I understand! I’m sorry.
The demon doesn’t understand. “You know what? I’m sorry.
I smiled, “I was afraid I’d be told “I’m sick of my horse” so I could pee and look at myself.” I’m sorry.
Little demons laughed.
And when he had laughed, the little devil whispered, “It’s so good that you can make a fool of yourself. I’m sorry.
I laughed, “Well, these two stories are an apology. You laugh, you laugh, you laugh, you laugh, you laugh. I’m sorry.
The little devil couldn’t help but ask, “Did you make up this story?” I’m sorry.
I said, “Well, why don’t you just make it up for me?” I’m sorry.
“Huh, that’s funny! I’m sorry.
I said, “Okay, stop laughing and go to sleep. The baby’s bedtime story. Do you understand? I’m sorry.
The demon’s “um” again, not again.
I’m really sleepy anyway.
For half a day, lost, I heard the little devil whispering, like talking to himself, like trying to make me hear.
I just pretended to sleep when I didn’t hear you.
But I actually heard it, heard it, and then I couldn’t sleep.
What the devil said was, “This fool is really Liu!” I’m sorry.
10.
Most of the time, the demons came late, but they didn’t really sleep out.
And I couldn’t see her all day, and she couldn’t see me.
I didn’t expect to be seen once by a little demon in broad daylight, but I was confused.
We live in a double room with a bathroom and a shower in the bathroom.
There is also a large area of the youth hostel, which has a bed and no bathroom.
So the poor tourists in the Chase store, who knock on the door in a bathroom room, are used to it, and the backpackers see it as a custom.
One afternoon, I wrote a book in my room and someone knocked.
The door was opened, and a strange girl stood at the door, with a body full of material, but covered in dirt.
Sunshine in the highlands, darkening her face.
The girl said, “Brother, can you take a shower in your room? I’m sorry.
I said, “Go ahead. I’m sorry.
I put the girl in the house, and I added, “Do you have a shampoo?” You have a bath? Don’t wash it in half and ask me for it.”
The girl looked at me with great displeasure and said, “Yes, I brought them myself. I’m sorry.
I know why the girls are upset, but I’m not asking that.
If you were an experienced backpacker, you might have asked a similar question in this scenario.
Although it is a low-probability event, and while most of the poor tourists are not, I have experienced it before — a poor girl in a barber shop, who comes to knock on the door, and I naturally open the door and let her in.
She didn’t want to take a shower, but she was talking to me.
It’s just a few words, to get to the point.
I don’t really have to tell her the whole thing. I’ll go back.
“I’m a poor student, but I want to have poetry and far away.”
“How hard it is for me to work, to save a little money for this long trip…”
“How difficult it was for me to travel from Chengdu to Lhasa to take the north of the river…”
“As many times in the middle of a ride, I had to get on it, the driver touched me…”
“I still have one last dream, I’d like to go to the highest mountain of Tibetan Buddhism.
“But I’m out of food, and I’m stuck in Lassard without a plate…
After the recitation, it’s my turn: “Girl, no entanglement, why are you still in Lhasa?” Go home now! I’m sorry.
Girls stay.
I went on, “Travel this thing, after all, it’s a consumer. You can go on a cheap trip. That’s fine, but if you don’t have the money, don’t swim. I’m sorry.
Now, as I say, the girl knows, not only has she seen it across the street, but she is not the master of the so-called compassionate.
Girls don’t give up, “I’m not that bad, look…”
I interrupt, “Girls, begging and travel are different things and can’t sew together across the border. I’m sorry.
The girl’s head down, don’t squeak.
In fact, she’s making a judgment — across the street, she can’t get the money, but she’s not holding on to the idea of a “mutual”?
I said, “You have to bathe, now you have to wash, the door is locked from inside. Please come back if you don’t.” I’m sorry.
The girl looked at me and opened the door without saying anything.
She didn’t even come for a shower.
She looked at me and left because she thought I didn’t see her.
That is, if I don’t make that up, she’ll take a bath.
Then wash a few, open the shower door and ask for shampoo.
If you have shampoo in the bathroom, ask you for a bath.
If you’ve got both, you can say where you’re going with your skin.
It doesn’t matter, it’s a subtext, which means you can go into the shower without a shampoo or a bath.
Then we’ll negotiate and do business.
It’s possible to do things first, then negotiate…
And this time, the tanned girl really came to take a bath and didn’t ask me for shampoo.
But apparently they know the number of paths that each other’s hearts are silent, so when I ask, “Do you have shampoo?” You have a bath? “Don’t wash it in half, and ask me to ask.”
In other words, she’s a really poor tourist, not the kind of poor person who’s playing.
After taking a bath, the girl came out with wet hair on her head; the face of the black smug, though not white, became red, and the whole person looked more attractive than when he knocked on the door.
I suddenly had the thought that if it wasn’t the girl who came to take a bath, would I have responded to someone else’s shampoo?
Look, men always have flowers and guts.
So poverty is really not a good option for girls.
Even when you’re playing poverty, people think about you in the direction of change.
Although you can say it’s a rat, broke a pot of soup.
But the bad thing is, there was a lot of rats like this.
The girl noded at me and said “thank you.”
I nodded at her head and said, “Sorry.”
The girl laughed.
That’s why I apologize, she knows, but she can only say “no.”
The girl opened the door, and it was a shock — her face and the little demon’s face almost hit it!
God knows how the demons who don’t see them during the day can suddenly go back to their rooms!
The demon was scared, and she looked up and down and took a good look at the girl, so she turned around and turned away with a bad smile.
The girl won’t return her head.
And before the door was closed, the demon used her finger on my nose and jumped on my feet like, “Oh, my God! What a surprise!”
I’m closing the door, “Don’t think! I’m sorry.
The demon stood in front of me, so I couldn’t hide from him. I’m sorry.
I don’t change my face, “You’re thinking too much. I’m here for a bath. I’m sorry.
The demon is one step closer and looks me in the eye. “I know, I know! Just ask if you’ve given anyone any shampoo? Did you bring a bath? Damn it, it’s my shampoo! I’m sorry.
I’ll sit by the bed. “Sister, which brother-in-law is so professional, teach you so carefully? I’m sorry.
“Whoever brother-in-law is left alone? Don’t interrupt!
I don’t squeak, and it’s quiet.
The demon stood across from me and said, “Looks like you’re doing a good job, people’s face, you’re making a big deal out of it! I’m sorry.
I turned my head to the left, and the demon went around to the left. I’m sorry.
I turned my head to the right, and the little demon went around the right, “Go ahead, go ahead. I’m sorry.
I look straight ahead, the demon falls down and still faces me.
I had a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! It’s just not you. It’s not you. I’m sorry.
The little demon laughs, expressing great satisfaction.
It is estimated that I am satisfied that I have given up my confession of guilt, that I have given up my confession, and that I have taken note of it, and that I have given serious recognition to her pride.
It would be better to use a word that could not be explained.
The demon laughs very well.
I know that she’s happy, more from a discovery, or a determination.
The demon concluded that I had been pretending to be the same person as her and even her “husband”.
I don’t want to explain.
Because I found that the whole afternoon, from the girl’s coming in for a bath to the little witch’s “puzzling” confession, filled the room with an unnamed and indecency.
11.
At nightfall, the demon was made up in the slightest.
I asked, “This is a hunting trip, right? I’m sorry.
The demons have a happy place to nod their heads. I’m sorry.
“What kind of pig is this? I’m sorry.
The little demon came up with a smile and grabbed my arm. I’m sorry.
I wasn’t surprised. I went out with a demon on my arm.
I apologized for not taking you — my friend opened a bar in Tonto and sometimes I went to sing for him at night. After dinner, I’ll take you to a drink. I’m sorry.
The devil noded his head and put my arms in his arms, and the line in his eyes was “I hear everything.”
So, on the eastern road of Beijing in Lhasa, I had a great couple with the little demon.
I drank some wine at the bar, I went down the stage and went to my seat with the demon.
The little demons on the seat came at me.
I don’t get her, or sit next to her, “What do you mean, you found the pig?”
“No, it’s the beauty over there who thinks you’re a pig.” I’m sorry.
I turned my head to look for a pretty girl, who looked in my face, and sent an unnamed message, and quickly turned my eyes.
“No, don’t sit next to me. People want to give you wine, or they’ll give you it.” I’m sorry.
I was laughing and shaking my head, “So I’m going to sit next to you so she won’t give it away. She’s not bad, I’m sick of stomach!” I’m sorry.
“You sing nicely, you have a long hair, I didn’t see it before, and now the lights are dark and people don’t see it very well.” I’m sorry.
I struck a ha-ha, saying, “Are you exaggerating or damaging?” It doesn’t matter. Don’t get drunk. I’ll throw up again. I’m sorry.
And then the pretty girl came over, and she had a big beer and a little wine.
All I can do is cheat, “Thanks for the drink, girl, but I’d like to sit alone with my girlfriend. I’m sorry.
Under the dark lights, the beauty slashed and slanted the little demons and sulked to the side and quickly closed the bill.
“How can you? Ha ha!
But actually, the phrase “I want to sit alone with my girlfriend” is kind of helpful.
She moved her ass, significantly reduced the distance between us.
The bar owner, a friend of mine, came up with two chords of beer and a funny face, staring at the demon and asking: “What’s your name, girl?” Is this guy your boyfriend? I’m sorry.
The little devil stings and laughs.
I’ll answer the question: “Put down the drink and get out of here! I’m sorry.
Friends put down beer, hip-hop faces, and went way overboard.
“Cheers, cheers! It’s my best day in Lassard! I’m sorry.
Talk a lot, play late.
After the guests had left, their friends came and drank a lot.
I’m a little up in the middle of the night and I’m a little up in the middle.
On the eastern road of Beijing in Lhasa, the two of us held each other’s arms and barely managed to get out of the straight line.
Go back to the room of the young traveler, and the demons change their nightgown and go straight to my bed without saying anything.
But I’m still going to keep Willow.
12.
The demons stopped shaking and looked at me all confused.
Actually, I’m a little confused.
I thought I’d go straight to the subject from the afternoon to the night.
Even going straight to the subject, there’s no need for a mattress.
I know that the demon’s “husband” is my boss, and the fat guy is probably high right now.
In the days when the demon left Beijing, he would certainly have played a very fancy game.
I even thought about it, and he actually knew that little demons would do the same.
The “pork elbow” knows not only the “pork elbow” but also the “pork elbow”.
In that case, why should I play a noble role in the face of the demons?
Besides, I’m not noble.
So not because I’m noble.
So it’s not that little demons aren’t attractive enough.
It was before the door, and suddenly in my heart a little stubborn, a very damn stubborn.
The boss and the demon know each other.
But neither the boss nor the demon know me.
Lassard’s side is like, “The demon and I would like to have a wish, it’s no different from what I said at the beginning, “You play with me, I play with me.”
But back in Beijing, the fat man would look me in the eye and look me in the eye and try to see something and prove, “I’m a pig’s elbow, you too.”
To simulate this scene, I found my stubbornness.
My stubbornness is that at that moment, I would give him this obnoxious look and stand up and give him back with no heart!
That’s all.
The fact that the demon is happy today is essentially the same as her husband’s.
Don’t you want to settle something too?
I, and the travelers in Lhasa, are in fact the same kind of person as her and her “husband”.
All hunters.
They’re all prey.
Just hunting each other.
It’s all big pig elbows. Nobody says anything.
Yes.
From the point of view of desire, we’re all the same. No one should say anything.
But I feel stubbornly that we are different.
The difference is weak, depraved, cheap and “not easy.”
But right now, it’s worth my defence.
I can’t stand the look of a fat man.
I couldn’t bear to become a prey.
I’ll send you a shampoo, even if we negotiate now.
I thought my patient “involved” would provoke the demon.
After all, the leprechaun’s confidence in her demon has been overwhelming.
Like the boss is confident in his own eyes.
I’m waiting for a little demonic, even cruel.
She’s not angry, she’s not having an attack. She’s slowly gone.
The quiet little demon, slowly burying his head in my armpit and crying.
It’s a very common thing to cry about a demon with no fresh technology.
She herself was in the top seat of the proud past and is now faced with a newer position.
He’s not a husband, he’s just a rich man who buys meat.
The demon cried and said that she was the meat.
This piece of meat is not fresh, nor is it worth anything.
I had to change my husband’s hand and the demon wanted to put some green hats on him before he did.
This channel, it’s truly unsympathetic.
In the words of the species “Sixie”, strictly speaking, there is no “retribution with a hat.”
Because it’s a hat itself.
I’m cooler in the face of the demon’s body.
I can’t stand to be a prey, and I can’t stand it when you give me a discount and a hat.
She’s not crying. She’s groaning and staring at the ceiling.
She said, “I know that you have nothing to do with the girl who bathed.” I’m sorry.
I’m a little surprised.
“You and the girl who took the shower, it was nothing. But now I’m just trying to have something with you…
I’m overwhelmed.
“I know you can’t see me…”
I want to stop.
The demon said, “You can’t look at me, but I’m more fond of you…”
I can’t get it.
“Today we drink, we sing, we drink and we talk to your friends, I’m happy!” Only tonight, you don’t seem to look down on me…”
The demon cried, and cried so hard, “Just this once, I don’t want revenge! I thought… I thought, I want real pleasure! It’s a pleasure to be seen! I’m sorry.
After that, the demon began to attack me in full.
Her tears rubbed my face.
And I threw away a word while I was busy, saying, ‘You have already said!’ I’m sorry.
13.
There’s a light and sweet tea room at Dangerin Lane, Lassard.
The backpackers who travel to Tibet know where it is and have had sweet tea here.
The business of the Light Sweet Tea Room has been good, catching up with the tourist season and even waiting for seats at noon — because both Lhasa natives and Tibetans who come to Lhasa to make a pilgrimage, come here to talk, eat noodles or fight landowners.
In Lhasa, the sweet tea room and the youth hotel are a model for each other.
Even so, a backpacker who hasn’t been to a sweet tea has been embarrassed to say hello.
In the sweet tea room, you need to get your own cup and put it on the table in front of the seat.
You pull out your pocket, put it next to the cup.
There will naturally be Tibetan waitresses who will come — they will be wearing white coats and large bags on white coats; they will be carrying teapots and adding hot tea to your cups.
She’ll take 50 cents on your desk; or she’ll take a dollar and throw back 5 cents on the table.
Or if you don’t have a change, she’ll cut you by 5 cents and throw you a big change.
The whole search for money is done by one hand, fast and skilful.
The process will be repeated as long as the tea cup in front of you is empty and there is money next to it.
Of course, the first time was 1 cent, then there was 3 cents, 5 cents…
The backpackers who come out of the YUVA are interested in chatting, tea, hooking up and bubbles.
I’m not tired of this scene.
In the last few days of Lhasa, the demons followed me, and they were never tired of it.
The demon said she liked it so much that she remembered her childhood and her grandmother.
She didn’t complain about me. Why didn’t she come from the beginning?
Sunshine slashed into the old sweet tea room and spilled on the hair of the little demon.
At this point, she looks like she’s out of sight.
Maybe it’s a little light in the sun.
That’s what you do, nobody knows.
Tibet’s landscape, beautiful.
The Budala Palace in Lassard, it also looks decent.
But when someone says, “The snow plateau can cleanse a man’s mind,” I want to throw a bucket of ice water in his head.
Tibet can’t do anybody’s detergent, or pollen.
It’s simple: if you’re a clean man, go to Tibet, you’ll be clean.
On the contrary, do you think a man who hides dirt in his heart and goes to Tibet to get the sun out of the tan?
This is ridiculous.
Don’t be fooled.
So, you’re in a lot of trouble?
You mess, it messes up.
You don’t mess, it doesn’t mess.
Many times, it’s not because it’s messy that you follow.
It’s your mess. It’s your mess.
This rationale is not limited to Lhasa, nor to youth tourism.
That’s all.
Document number: YXX1 EmmaLJCRRRJ1ZrTQR1B
Hate doesn’t come along.
Red and Green: True love doesn’t end
Wong Suk-soon, wait!
x
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
