Tore down his beads.

I still desecrate the gods.

And the holy monk on the altar, whose eyes were clear, was in my red bill, tearing down the beads, squeezing my ankle, and moving his throat.

“Your Highness, the monk has broken his promise. I’m sorry.

The 7th Night of the Trapped Temple.

“Bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-dow-dow-dow-dow-bow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow.”

And the open door, the snow and the snow, and the white monk stood in the night, and he was so well-born, his bones and bones were so flat, he stood as a platinum tree, white-skinned snow, and a little red zud sand between his eyebrows, and he had in his hand a string of ungold beads, like a cold white Buddha.

“Sensei, what can I do for you? “It seems like he’s a little familiar.

It’s coming from behind.

“A monk. “The headless ones sit on the wall and laugh. “Oh, it smells so good and it kills me. Where do we start?” Skull, “This is a beautiful monk.

Countless green eyes turned around in the middle of the sky, screaming, “Let him in.”

The white monks didn’t notice anything. Their hands were folded and they looked at me and looked like water.

“Wasn’t it possible to spend a night with a poor monk passing through you? I’m sorry.

Even the light sound is unknown.

“Please, what’s your name? I’m sorry.

“The pious monks are the disciples of the Da’ik Temple, and look. His lips moved.

I stare at his lips, and my heart trembles.

As I recall, there was a woman painter who fell in love with a monk, a monk, who was cold, rejected the artist, a painter who had become a demon, painted thousands of paintings of monks, married to a chapel, and then burned herself, leaving only one painting in the sea of fire, and became an immortal.

I have seen the painting in the palace of the Emperor’s Book, which is a Zeland tree and is like a moon in the clouds. It is as if it were a ghost, and when the ghost made it ill, I will cover my lips with cold, cold, cold eyes, a pen with a nostrils, and I will end up with the lips of the white-clothed monks, in the middle of the room, and I will hear a whisper, and I will touch it as if it were soft and wet.

It’s just that there’s an overlap between the person in the picture and the person in the eye.

I looked down, my tongue turned, and I read it like a million times.

When I saw the painting, I was like an evil man, I had a fever, I was talking nonsense, I cried and I was looking for a “show,” and I didn’t remember anything, except that when I was awake and my ankles were belled with gold bells, and my brother said that the monks of the Temple had come to do me a favor and to exorcise the evil, and the bells had kept me safe. I forgot the name and the painting. Until tonight, the painting re-emerges.

“Let him in.” The ghosts are rushing.

I leaned by the door, and I was in doubt.

Other people were lured here in the previous few nights, without exception, and dragged into the wall of paintings, fractured limbs, blood pouring out, a terrible death, and eventually added a horrifying image to the wall…

Can the white monks get rid of evil? He was young, supposed to be low, alone, and there were hundreds of ghosts in the temples with little hope. Forget it, let him go.

“Look at Master, the bead of your hand, how familiar it looks…” I smiled at the white monk, I snuffed out my hand, held his wrists, and my finger went up on him, “A ghost.” I’m sorry.

The ghost is only half-written, banging, and the fresh Zhu Gate is opened by the snow, and behind it are countless lights and flames of light, and the pagodas have been carved into temples, and the wild vines have been razed with flowers and flowers.

How can you be so kind? A silver-haired old man turned out from behind me, looked at me and smiled and invited him in. I’m sorry.

I only have to make him look and shake my head.

Who knows, he has not been able to understand, even though he smiles, and his head is soft, and his voice is as thin as a fog.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry.

His white clothes came in with snow outside the temple.

There’s no turning back.

The old silver-haired ones laughed, and soon she departed, and she hid the darkness.

Two.

Painting the murals.

When the tongue of the tongue appeared silently behind him, he spitted out his red tongue, glittered with light, and he began to tangle with his long white neck.

I grabbed his waist and jumped on him.

The red dress was blown by the cold wind and covered in snow.

The bells were ringing, and the body of the white-clothed monks held in their arms was thin.

“As if there was a snake under my feet…”

And behind him, the gibberish was pushed back a few steps by the little gold from the bell from my feet, and it was all right. I took a breath of relief from him, I overheard him, and I took a deep sip, it smelled very well, it was unforeseeable, and a cold sound came out of my head.

“Master, you’re wrong. I’m sorry.

And he looked at my hands between his waist, and he was staring at me in the shadows of the floating light, and he was dazzled and dazzled, and clearly displeased.

Oh, it’s just that Master Shifu is a family, clean and not a woman.

I let my hand loose, and I thought, and I put my arms back in my arms, and I rubbed his shirt, and looked at him, and looked at him: “I was afraid of Master. I’m sorry.

He looked at me, and his eyes touched me, and for a moment he stretched out two white fingers, and opened my hand gently: “Father, take heed.” @Leaves: #Feb14

“But I’m afraid. What can I do? * And then he’s gone and I’m stuck *

He looked at me, and his face was a complex face, and his eyes moved, as if he were thinking.

“Show Master”?

And he wrangled his throat: “Father, let go of your hand, if you fear, I will hold you in my hand.” I’m sorry.

Huh? That’s fine. I let go and I want to pull his hand. Who knows?

The platinum Buddha, who knows no good, and We hold the bead silently.

After the ghosts followed, they were a little shy, but they did not walk a few steps, and the bells on their ankles suddenly hurried, and I looked down, and the red rope snapped, the gold bell fell, and the heart fell.

A hundred ghosts found out, and they were laughing up.

I hastened to remind you, “Show your master, behind you, ghost.” I’m sorry.

The white monk moved with cold eyes and a dim, but he did not hide, and he saw the sharp cold teeth pointed at his cyanide, and was about to bite, and I pulled him back.

“Don’t move around, follow me.” He swayed his voice and grabbed my wrist, pulled it back behind him, and circled behind him, with one hand in his hand, and softened the beads, and met the ghosts.

And his white robe flashed a faint white light, and drove away hundreds of ghosts for a few steps, but the light flashed, and it quickly disappeared.

“The little monk is crazy…”

“Hush, smells good…”

“Eat it clean. I’m sorry.

The wind soared and blew him into a snowcoat.

A skank suddenly pointed at me: “Your little lord, you have never seen a monk without clothes, and you will be blessed.”

I was angry, and I cried out to the past: “Do not face.” I’m sorry.

“You really don’t want to see it, Your Highness?” I’m sorry.

And We were scorned: “Who is like you?” I’m sorry.

And the sound of peace, when We passed by, and he was standing in place, recited the Book, and looked the same, seemed like I was hearing.

The demons are increasingly disarray, and the wind is gushing, like countless cold blades, to break the snow-coloured monks.

His sleeves were broken.

“Oh, the little monk is hiding so much, I love it…”

I can’t keep my eyes off his arm.

With a strong arm, the line is beautiful, but not thin, and the muscles are infinity, and they breathe.

“Ah, you skank, you’ve been dead for centuries. I’m sorry.

“Moan me to death…”

“Ah, Your Highness, aren’t you looking? I’m sorry.

And We humbled Our eyes, and We turned away.

“Human beings are hypocrisy. *And the skank clapping, “Go on, go on…”

And the wind gathered in his chest: “Oh, so strong…”

One hand reached to his chest, and the tongue was like, “Well played…”

Give me a bite, monk. I’m sorry.

And the white monks who were in front of them stood as a rock and recited the Book.

I couldn’t see what was going on in front of him, just listening to the smug noises, with a strange picture flashing in front of my eyes, and a woman’s wrist swirling on a man’s strong chest, with a tumultuous, red cheeks like a seashell in the west, entangled in a red dress.

And the ache of the abdomen began to sting, and suddenly a faint sound was heard. “Break. I’m sorry.

A golden light was suddenly fired from the front, engraved into a thin flame, in the form of a dragon, with a ferocious four-legged claw, with a pompous ponture, and squealing towards a hundred ghosts.

“Aah…”

“It hurts! It hurts.

“Run away…”

The cries and screams were dense and appalling.

There was a heavy and dark smoke in the air, some of the ghosts were burned to ashes by fire, and the spirits were quickly dispersed, and the remnants ran around, panicped, or drilled under the ground, or hidden in the walls of the paintings.

And the house fell and fell, and was drawn to me, leaping forward, standing on a high roof, and the lights were extinguished, and only the snow came out.

I looked at the sight of it with surprise.

“Samaji, you are so good, why didn’t you say so? “I couldn’t help but jab his arm.

He turned around and I breathed with my eyes.

He’s half naked.

Snow white, tough muscles, some light powder, like March Sakura… suddenly echoes the words of the leprechaun. “I want a bite…”

“You didn’t ask. “The cold sound interrupts my thoughts.

“Hmm? I looked at him, and he ran into him, and he looked at me, and his eyes were clear, and I didn’t think of anything.

“Well, look at Master, let’s go? I’m sorry.

And suddenly his eyes fell on my ankle: “Your bell fell off.” I’m sorry.

“Oh that, no more, no more. I’m sorry.

And he fell cold in a moment, with his lips on his lips, and he did not say a word, but pulled me back to the earth, and leaned down, and picked up the golden bell, and held it in hand.

The ghosts were hidden in the walls of paintings, perforating their heads without moving.

And I pointed to the pointer, and looked at him, “Want to go? Look at Master.” I’m sorry.

He turned around and walked in silence to the depths of the cave.

“Show Master. I went after him and caught him. “Why are you going in there? I’m sorry.

He was with me for a moment of sight, both fingers in the direction of the temple.

“That’s a dead door. I’m sorry.

Look over there, a golden light breaks through that door, and there’s a cliff beneath it, and as soon as it’s lifted, it’s crushed to pieces. I’m sorry.

He looked at me and kept walking: “When the sun rises, he finds a door.” I’m sorry.

He walked into an abandoned house and I followed him.

As soon as he entered the house, he removed his bag, put on a white robe, cleaned his eyes around him, started to remove the web, sweep the tables and chairs, and lay the sheets … He did everything he could.

I was so sleepy, I was shaking my legs, I was holding my face, I couldn’t stop feeling sorry, and I asked him, “How can we sleep?” I’m sorry.

He seemed to be aware of the problem, looking around, looking at that little bed, quiet and saying, “The poor monks sleep next door. He said that once his legs were stretched, he had to go outside the door.

I woke up, jumped up, hugged his waist, and stopped, “Show Master, don’t go, I’m afraid.” I’m sorry.

He broke one of my fingers, turned around, and looked at me.

“The monk is next door, she’ll be fine. I’m sorry.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him and said, “Does Master hate me?” I’m sorry.

His eyes moved, his head swayed.

“Then don’t go. I’ll sit next to you until you wake up, okay? I’m sorry. He looked at me, and his lips were silent, and I was afraid that he would refuse and lift up three fingers: “I swear, I will not disturb you, see my master…” I shook his sleeve, and said, “Okay.”

And finally, his cold eye was soft, and he lamented, and his speech was gentle.

“You sleep on the bed, the poor monks don’t go.” I’m sorry.

I looked up and laughed, I crawled into bed quickly, but I wasn’t feeling well, afraid that he would go away, turn over, fall asleep, look at him half-eyed, he stood by the window, he turned his back on me, he was a bit lonely.

I called him unconsciously.

“Hmm. He’s not answering.

Sleeping and fear are constantly swung, and suddenly they awaken and shout at their master, and wait until they hear the apathy and fall asleep again.

It’s the first time he wakes up, I can’t tell you he’s standing by his bed, he’s watching God, I’m swallowing him, I’m staring at his face, I’m staring at his pink lips, I’m looking at him, and somehow, the touch of kissing the painting is clear and deep in the dark, my finger is up, it’s a little twitching, it’s like a wild vine, it’s curious. Does that feel the same?

And he touched his lips, cold, soft, wet, like the one in the picture, and his heart shattered. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me, and his eyes were dark.

I took my hand back and he grabbed me.

“What do you do?” His voice was dumb, and his face was in the shadows, but the twilight of his eyebrow was red, and the light was hot.

“I didn’t mean to do it, but I wanted to help you get rid of the mosquito.”

His eyes moved like he was trying to say something, and suddenly he turned his eyelids, he turned his palms out of the fire, he pulled off the bed, he fell over my wrist, he fell over his back, and he fell down on him. The lip was so close to my lips, I stayed, my heart beats like a drum.

He shook his head, “Don’t breathe.” I’m sorry.

3

I swallowed my saliva and my heart broke.

Hissing, the sound of broken doors and windows at the same time, the misty wind coming in, and the smell of a stench of stench and rotting in the air.

Hold your breath. I’m sorry.

And he passed over his lips once again, and its ears were scalded, and I was in a hurry to hold it.

The stench of stench is getting stronger, with a dark shadow coming out of the bed, a rotting living body, a dense body with a sap all over it, holding its hands up and staring at the front with empty eyes.

And We couldn’t help but look at his forelock, and drew him closer by accident, and he was stretched down with his long legs, and We looked down, and we were so close, so intense, so nervous, and so afraid, and his cheek was boiling.

And he looked at me, and he looked, and he looked back, and he tried to pull a little distance, and suddenly he tore it up again, and his rotten, stiff hands scrambled forward, cut open the chalkle, and came in, and stopped at a distance from his hand.

And I looked up and looked forward to seeing his throat swung, and a drop of sweat swung down on my cheek, along my cheek, falling down in the neck, crushing an inch of the hidden skin, shaking and touching his eyes, and he looked bright and pure, and I saw in his clear eyes my eyes my eyes were lost and my shame came up, and I looked out and looked to the dead one above.

It’s tilting its head, moving its hands evenly, searching left, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right. It’s not enough to hold a breath when the heart beats so hard.

“Ooh. I can’t help it.

The dead hand was like an iron blade, and it strangled my waist with a big hand, and it rolled in, and on its lips came cold and soft, and its eyes were suddenly turned over, and it was dark, and it was filled with fresh air and a strong and violent flow into the mouth, pouring into the chest cavity.

And like those who are about to drown, We are almost greedyly indulging in the fresh air, and the light fragrance is all over us, and the palms of our hands ironed on their waists are cold, and the faucets of our lips are swollen, and a bit soft as ink into water, so they spread out of their limbs.

I suddenly realized what was in the dark, and my brain was buzzing.

Once again, the strange flashes, the fallen bookshelves, the scattered paintings, the beads falling, the bells shaking, the “seeing…” and the sound of a low breath.

The white robes were sank several times, swaying the white beads.

and hears the cry of the cold.

“All of them are false. I’m sorry.

There’s a noise coming from above.

“There’s a way, like a dream, like a light…”

The flashing images, like a bubble, were torn apart, and the thoughts were torn back to the moment, and there was a violent bang, and there were a few living bodies, who were wooing, talking, sounding on the side of the bedboard, and the stench was getting away, the doors and windows were ringing and banging and banging and banging.

Silence for a long time.

The softness of the lips soared that the veil of the eyes was withdrawn at the same time.

At first sight, a little blurry, and I rubbed my eyes, and my cheeks were dazzling, and the white skin was tanned, and the residual soothing felt was still burning, and suddenly there was a little understanding of the paranoia of the artist, and it was hard not to move against such a monk…

I looked on my face and whispered.

Pop, the bed’s broken.

In the chaos, he was turned upside down, fell on the ground, without any pain, and then looked at the man under him holding on to the shredder, with his hand around me, and I fell on him, leaning on his face…

He looked down at me, and I lifted up my face to him, and I was silent.

I moved my lips and I didn’t want to call him Master.

He’s got his eyebrow, his voice is clear and his voice is silent: “Get away first. I’m sorry.

“Huh? “The face is red again, and I’m moving away, with my hands on my hands, and I’m going to sit up, “That, look, just now you…” I licked my lips, and that soft touch was like branding, and it was kind of addictive, and I hesitated to ask him, and he kissed me.

He stood by and sat straight, staring at me, with his eyes gushing, and his eyebrow was luminous, as if he had learned the last part of my unsuspected sentence, and his lips were light:

And suddenly the golden light came out, and the red light of his eyebrow went out, and his eyes recovered.

“That’s the weather. He’s silent about it.

I bit my lips, and the taste of the tummy was so clear.

“But aren’t you amazing? Can’t do it? Of what?”

And he held me in the way of peace: “These living corpses are different from the murals, and they are driven by evil, and it is all right to find their graves and recite them, and the pious monks do not want to hurt them. * He’s got a little eyes, he’s got a little eyes, he’s got a very different face, and he says, *You can get up. * I’m sorry.

“Oh, I forgot. “I slowly rose up, pointed at the bedboard of the ground, and couldn’t help but beat it, and said, “What now, no bed.” I’m sorry.

“It’s almost dawn…” And he stood up, and he had a low response, and suddenly he bragged, turned his back and coughed.

“I didn’t sleep enough…” And I went before him, but I saw him in cold and white, with a red blood on his lips.

“Look, what happened to you? I went over and stretched out his hand and he took a step away from it, carried his hand away, and looked at me, “It’s okay.” “It’s cold.

If something’s wrong, who’s free to spit blood? Why are you avoiding me like a snake? I pulled my hand back, pulled my skirt, stopped talking to him, turned around with a stool and waited for dawn.

So quiet.

Can’t you see I’m angry? I don’t care. He really won’t talk to me.

I swiped my legs and folded a plum in front of my window, playing with my hands, and I couldn’t help but hang on to it a million times:

“Look, I’m really good. I’m sorry.

There’s a light question coming from behind: “Hmm? I’m sorry.

I turned around, touched the twirling red dress, cleared my throat and looked at his eyes:

“I’m the Seven Princess. I’m sorry.

“Hmm. “It’s still an unmistakable response.”

I was choked up by his voice, stuck for a moment, okay?

And I was silent, and I said, “Was there any terminal disease in you? I can take you to the best of the healers and give you the best of the medicine, and I will surely heal you.” I’m sorry.

He looked away, quiet for a moment and suddenly lifted up his bag and walked towards the window.

“Your Highness, are you sleepy?”

I’m confused about nodding.

He stood on my side, bowed, put his arms in the window, pointed at his own arm, and looked at me, “Sleep down for a little bit.” I’m sorry.

I’m not greasy, I can’t stop my lips, I’m busy, I’m going to lean on my face, and he’s going to press his scrotum on his arms and cut the distance.

Huh? I’m sorry.

And he looked at me, and his eyes were dazzled, as though the mountains were white clouds spread out, even though his lips were still swollen, and there were no laughter, and the ghost was visible, and tender.

“Sleep, little lady. “The sound is soft, the tail is entwined.

He can’t help but shiver again, and he’s smelling a little fragrance.

I can’t refuse it. I put my nerves in his arms through my cynics, and my nerves were loose, dark nights, the temples were broken, the murals were painted, all turned into moonless moonshine in sweet dreams.

4

At dawn, the vision quickly reached a few graves, quelled them, and touched the beads, a burning fire, and quickly reached the door to life, a dark hole that was narrow and low.

Watch me go first, then he.

I was crouching down, and I was going to get in there, and I was standing on my feet, and I looked down, and a green, oily, wild snake was staring at me, and I was silent, and I screamed, and I jumped on the look.

“Look, snake, snake! It bit me. It’s cold on my waist. It’s coming up. I’m sorry.

It’s scary, it’s worse than ghosts!

“It’s not a snake on your waist. “The voice is cold.

I reached out with great suspicion and touched the cold.

I sneered at him, but I looked at him with cold eyes.

“Get down. It’s cold.

That’s not what happened last night.

I grunted and shook his sleeve, and I couldn’t help it.

“No, you kill it and I’ll come down. I’m sorry.

“The monks don’t kill. I’m sorry.

We said, “Then let me be killed.” I’m sorry.

“I’m not going out anymore.” I’m sorry.

“Of course I’m going out. “I thought about it, I smiled at him, pointed at the black hole, “Look, shall we go out together?” I’m sorry.

He refused: “It’s too narrow.” I’m sorry.

No, you see, I held him in my arms, and I measured him, “I’ll be right next to you, I’m skinny, I don’t own a place. I’m sorry.

He turned his face off, and he cried out, and he didn’t say no.

We’re really hot. Who knows, it’s really narrow.

I’m so close, so ashamed, I’m blushing and trying to move back.

“Don’t move. * He’s got a little squirm in his cold voice.

And We glanced at him with a glance, and the eye of the eye was red with a few points red, and the eye was filled with dark waves.

How strange! His salsa is when it is bright and when it is dark.

“Oh, don’t move, don’t move…”

I’m so heavy. I looked to him, and the light was dark and he couldn’t see it, and he quickly turned his side, staggered with me, held on and continued to climb.

“Look, have you eaten meat? It smells good. I can’t help but lick my lips. I’m starving.

“…no.”

“Where’s the wine? * Oh, my God *

He shakes his head.

“Where are the women? I’m sorry.

The man under him was suddenly frozen for a moment.

Huh? “Look, you touched a woman! I’m sorry.

And suddenly it was bright.

“Here we are. Down.” Still quiet.

I, I’d also like to ask what woman he touched, to think about him, how he could touch a woman, forget it.

There were two other surprises in the ears.

“Students. A woman’s voice.

“Students. A man salutes.

Heads up, a boulevard, a gray monk.

Their eyes, from under me, slowly move to my face.

The face of Tao Yu has changed, the face is angry, the monk rubbed his eyes, and he can’t believe it.

I waved to them with a smile, and I said, “Hello, glamorous students, I’m the glamorous one…” And I didn’t think it would be a good introduction, and I said, “Look at me last night.” I’m sorry.

“Come on down. “The sound of vision has finally got up and down, though it doesn’t sound good.

5

Down the hill, Dojo entangled in the front, and I left behind with the spiritual monk.

Sister Yu, did you really sleep with your senior? I’m sorry.

I’m holding my arms and staring at two people in front of me. Sleep well, he knows best. “I cannot ask, but if he breaks his law, he will die.” I’m sorry.

“You’ve never seen the world out there so beautiful, so much better than being in your Loosh temple…”

The front-door aunt suddenly slipped and fell into the shadows.

I almost couldn’t get through it. I can’t stand it.

It’s so stupid to stand and shake your head:

“You don’t look so good, sister-in-law, you’re lying, you’re not breaking the law, he’s not with you…”

I looked at him, and he took two steps backwards, and he shut up, and I looked up at the two close men in front, and his teeth were broken.

“Big monk, who’s that monk? Why are you calling him a monk? “A Buddhist family, a Taoist, who is a brother and sister.

“The master of Mrs. He is close to our master. She has always liked to follow his brother. I’m sorry.

Ooh.

“My feet hurt, don’t go. “My feet are sore, I just sit down.

“Ah, Sister Yu, it’s dark again. “I’m so excited to get me up.”

And I stood still, and I picked up the twigs and drew the circle on the snow: “Then carry me back.” I’m sorry.

In the snow, the sound of a steady footsteps was heard and the curtains appeared in the white robe.

“What’s wrong? “Steal the monk, leave me alone.

“She’s in pain. She can’t walk. I’m sorry.

“We’re too busy to work with you here, and if you don’t leave, we’ll go.” I’m sorry.

And We covered our eyes, and We covered our faces on our knees, and We suffocated, saying: “Whosoever is scarce, go.” I’m not going with you. I hate it. I’m sorry.

“Who do you think you are? Come on, let’s go. If we don’t get down, it’s snowing again. Don’t worry about her. Don’t know who’s used to it. I’m sorry.

You stink, bitch.

“Sight, go.”

“It’s my sister.

“You’re not going to listen to me. Be careful I’ll tell your master you’re greedy of women. I’m sorry.

Bitch, just jealous I’m prettier than her.

The sound of sand in the snow. Did you leave?

I covered my face even deeper, and I sneezed, and I was starving, and my feet were sore, my nose sour, and my eyes cried out. I’m not going anywhere. It’s not like I’m not going anywhere.

“Where’s the pain?” The voice over there.

I look up, I look around and I stand in front of my eyebrow and it’s cold.

Why are you so mean? I’m so scared I wipe my tears off my back with my hands. What’s so great, stinking monk.

He didn’t say a word. Hold my ankle.

“What? “I twisted and tried to break his palm.

It’s all a lie. I don’t care what you see.

“Stop it. “He sighs and takes off my shoes.

“You’re mean to me.” I’m awake with red eyes.

“No offense. I’m sorry.

“Aggressed. Monk, you’re killing me. What are you doing? Don’t move my foot. I’m sorry.

Kissing is irresponsible and trying to touch my feet, stinking monk.

I moved back, tried to pull my foot back, but he put his hand on me, and I could die.

“Well, it hurts. Let me see. Where does it hurt? He looked at me and looked at me like water.

I was blinded by the tender eyes of my eyes, and I didn’t feel the sound of it: “On the left, on the right, it hurts. I’m sorry.

He unzipped one of his shoes and covered his toes in socks, so ugly, and I took my mind back to my feet, and he held it even harder, and his face was so pale.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” A little bit of a question.

“You’re mean. I was staring at him.

He’s silent.

“What do you care about her? “The Dodger came back and looked at me in anger.

I threw up my tongue at her, dressed like a ghost face, flew my feet back and put my shoes on.

“No matter what, who cares about your brother?” * I pick up a dead twig and stand up * * And walk through your sunshine and I walk through my *

Then he was emptied and held up.

“Students. Two screams.

I’m a little confused, too.

And if he had nothing to do with it, he would have found the inn and drugged you. I’m sorry.

I threw my finger at him.

“You’re the one who’s gonna hug me and drug me. I’m sorry.

“Well, it’s poor monks. * He’s squeezing, and he’s holding his hands tight on my waist. *

“Sir, I’m sorry. She’s not without legs. “The Animation also scratched the bright head and hesitated to say, “Senior.” Isn’t Master saying that family members can’t be near women? I’m sorry.

“Hmm. He noded his head, he had no expression, “but her feet hurt. I’m sorry.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her, blinked at her. She was so angry.

“Is it cold? “The voice is low, it sounds good.

I smiled, I looked at his watery eyes and noded my head.

“Cool. I’m sorry.

“Sight, get a robe out. I’m sorry.

“Huh? Brother, you’re not allowed to touch you…”

“She’s cold. I’m sorry.

“Oh. I’m sorry.

They’re hugged by the fragrance.

We couldn’t help but put our faces in front of his chest, and we swooped, “Look, I’m hungry.” I’m sorry.

“What do you want to eat?”

“I want to eat hot rollers. I’m sorry.

“Hmm. I’m sorry.

In the next small village of the mountain, with a few lights down, we stopped in front of a small noodle stand, and on the night of the snow, as soon as the casserole was opened, the plume rolled out, the fragrance rolled with the wind, and all the tongues rolled out.

I didn’t see it coming up, it was hot, and I didn’t see it coming up with a chopstick, and I was snorting, and I was snorting, and there was an onions in my face, and if I didn’t eat the onions, the onions would say that I was stingy, and I was staring at her, holding on, and slowly swallowing.

“You ate a fly? “Sight up, look at me.

And We smiled a little: “Ah, get lost, you eat the fly.” I’m sorry.

“There are people who are stingy, and they don’t like to eat a little.” I’m sorry.

And We held fast the chopsticks, and said: “Who is he, and who is well-wielded? I’m sorry.

“Everyone who doesn’t eat it says so. I’m sorry.

I, I ate her, I looked at the flowers floating in the bowl, I took a deep breath, and I caught another chopstick.

“Don’t eat. “It’s always quiet and sudden.

I looked at him, and I didn’t look so good, I said I’d eat noodles, and I walked a long time to find this stand, and if I said I wouldn’t eat onions he’d think I’d be flattered.

“I… I like to eat. “I bow my head, pull my bowl, and I have the courage to hold my breath.

“Eat this. He pushed a bowl of no flowers in front of me.

I stayed and he put a little bowl in his hand, so he was quiet, picking up onions.

“How do you know I don’t eat onions? “I didn’t know him before the Zhao Monk.

The other two followed me and looked at him.

He’s quiet.

I bit the chopstick and I looked at him:

“Look, you didn’t know me before, and you have an unusual mind for me. Did you come to Zhao Monk by chance or did you come to save me? I’m sorry.

“It’s not possible, the temple was sent by Hiro Yun’s Master. I’m sorry.

I dragged my sleeve, “Look, what’s going on?” I’m sorry.

He rubbed his eyelids and shook his head, and looked back at me with a helpless look, pointing to my bowl.

“Look at yourself. I’m sorry.

Look down, oh, I just pulled and pulled all the onions aside…

Ugh. I thought no one had found out… so he was just observing.

And the sweetness and the vision laughed at them at the same time, and I looked at them, and I looked down, and I saw the white robe next to me, and I accidentally stepped on him.

He looked me in the eye and didn’t react.

Stinky.

The sweet smiles are growing, and I’ve got a red face, and I’ve got my head down and I’ve got my face.

Come on, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Six.

By a city with a gold platinum on its forehead – the city of Buddha.

I could not help but fight the cold war.

“What are you afraid of?” And I looked at her, and the vision explained, “The city of Buddha offers all kinds of Buddha, has hundreds of Buddhas, has Buddha’s light, and the ghosts are afraid to perturb. So, when I entered the city, the cold felt as if I had gone out of my limbs, and as if I had been wrongly admitted to the temple, I looked in the snow, and he looked at me, and he didn’t speak, and he just slowed down and let me pull.

Out of the fog was a red woman, who bowed her head and hurried to meet us.

“The Master, where is the inn? @Ambassador: #Feb14

The red woman raised her head, and she was covered with a thick white powder, a round-faced face, a red custard on her cheeks, in a circle, and her lips were also covered with thick and radiant lips, as though she were a paper man buried in a paper shop.

“Speakers, make way. The slave is on his way. I’m sorry.

At that point, a sad, dazzling, dazzling, dazzling, dazzling, dazzling, dazzling, scrumptious sound, as if someone was laughing, someone was crying, a flowered palanquin that looked like juicy, was lifted out of the fog, and one of the first ones was holding his tizzle, scrunching, scrunching on both sides of the sedan, stomping on high red embroidered shoes, all of them tushing, their faces on red gels, laughing, throwing a bunch of sugars in the air, and a bunch of red ropes of copper, running with a group of red-skined children running with them in the smog, grabbing sugar, clapping, singing, “The bride, the bride, the bride, the bride, the bride, the bridge, the ghost.” I’m sorry.

“Hip, hip, hip, hip, hip, hip, hip.”

And We took a breath of cool air, and pulled down our sleeves: “Hear? Be a motherfucker. I’m sorry.

He swung his eyebrow and shook his head.

“What are you listening to, they say they’re brides…” The vision also said that I was wrong, and he looked around and said, “Where’s the red girl?” Look around, but see if a warp bridge is present in the far fog, it is the red woman who passes through the end of the bridge and disappears into the fog.

When the red palanquin passed by me, I glanced at it, and the wind passed, and my heart was raging, and there was no bride in the palanquin, but he sat in a red wedding dress with a round and red face, just like the one we asked about.

Watch! “I cried out, no one answered, and the snow-sleeved cuffs were gone.

“Psychic? ‘No response, look around, look around, look at them, look at them all disappear, I’m the only one standing in the fog, and my wrists are put around the beads for a while, and two laps around.’

Fear fills their hearts, then they look at them, and they are all floating in the air, they have no feet, they laugh, they wander around me.

And then there was the sound of the hyena, and I turned and looked at it, and it was just a little white. In the night, some people wear a filial dress, carry a coffin, weep and weep, walk towards the bridge, walk on, crash with the man to whom they are to be married, take each and every one of them, meet red and white, laugh and weep, and the night is grotesque.

I crouched quietly and held my knee in an attempt to hide my tracks in the delivery of a wedding ghost.

A red-clothed girl standing in front of me, with his eyes on Ussensen, and slapping at me, “Do you want to be a bride, sister?” I’m sorry.

“Think about it. “I looked at her and came out of nowhere.

She smiled even more, leaned at me, reached out to me, spread out her hand.

“Sister, I’ll buy you sugar. I’m sorry.

I reached out to pick up.

“Don’t answer it. “The low voice rises in the ears.

A white light came out, the beads on his hand were stunned, and the fragrance of snorts came back to me, and I shrunk back my hand, and the red-clothed girl was blown up.

I looked back and looked back, and he held me in his arms, and I jumped in his arms, and I said, “Oh, God, look where have you been? “It’s just an illusion, and I’m stupid, and I yell at the fog, “Look? I’m sorry.

“Your Highness. He can promise me.

“Look, you come out, I’m scared. * And I’m tearing my eyes and looking at the past in the direction of his voice, and every time I see him, it’s a shadow, and I’m turning back, and nobody.

“Don’t cry. * His sighs are ringing in all directions, as if my tears had been touched by a little cold fingertip.

“Why can’t I see you?”

His voice is intermittent, “Don’t take off the beads. I’m sorry.

His voice disappeared.

“Looking?”

A little fire was flashing in the dark of night above the city, and the light passed by in the dark, in the sea of light, with countless waves of shaking and fog dispersing, and at the same time the bridge and the red and white team disappear.

The streets are rich, the streets are crowded.

“Ooh, what’s going on? I’m sorry.

There’s a bunch of hot sugar.

I look up, and I’m looking at the Crown Prince, and I’ve been playing with him since I was a kid.

“What about the vision?” I’m sorry.

“What look?” He said, “No fever. I’m sorry.

Why are you here? I’m sorry.

“You’re not joking, your brother asked me to take you out, finish this trip and get ready for marriage. I’m sorry.

“Betrothed? Who will marry whom?”

And he took my hand: “O you and me, and a view, I’m sorry.

“Not right. “I broke his hand and shook my head, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Who saved me from being trapped in the Zhao Temple? I’m sorry.

I remember being told by the brother to come out with me, and then one night, when he got drunk, he broke into my room, he tried to kiss me, and I grabbed the vase and smashed him, and then I ran out and entered the temple.

I’ve always been with the look.

He pinched my wrist again.

“You’ve lost your head. You’ve always been with me. I’m sorry.

So We shook our heads and broke his hands and looked at his eyes: “You are a liar. I’m sorry.

It’s impossible. There must be a vision.

“I lied to you? Ask her. He pointed to those behind him, and my close friend followed Anin.

She looked at me with concern: “Your Highness, we have been with the Crown Prince these days. Your Highness, are you confusing your dreams again? I’m sorry.

I’m so pale, I touch my wrist, empty, beads, where are the beads? And I looked down at my ankle, and a gold bell was fastened.

“All right, cut it out. I’m sorry.

I put my head down and bit, sweet and sour.

Look at the view, it’s soft, caressing my shoulder.

I look upon the strange city of Buddha, and the light is bright and my heart is troubled.

Look, he never showed up?

I’m in a nightmare again.

Dreaming of a bride, she was burning paintings, cutting her wedding dress, smashing her crown, hysteria, and suddenly she looked at me, biting Dan red fingernails and laughing.

“I don’t want you either. I’m sorry.

“You poor thing, little lady…”

I looked down and I was wearing a red wedding dress, blood and tears.

“Why doesn’t he want me? I’m sorry.

7

I woke up with a bell, and my head broke and I don’t remember anything.

We’re in the middle of the New Year’s Lamp Festival, we’re in the city, we’re in the middle of it.

I wandered around in the sights, not looking for people, but with a light, looking in the shadows of white robes, and there were white monks in the crowd, and I followed, but none of them was him.

The walkers are talking, and the Mayor has finally returned.

And suddenly the fire was blazing: “The passers-by’s retreat.” I’m sorry.

The gates slowly unfolded like an axle, and the BMW car came out.

“Blessed be the Lord of the town. I’m sorry.

As the tide swung, hurried towards each side and bowed down.

I’m standing in the middle of the light, looking at the front of the gold-colored car, and I’m breathing a little bit.

The man in the car gave birth to a look.

But he was no more an attack on the Snow White, but a coat of gold, the upper and lower.

The twilight in the eyebrow is better than the fire.

I was staring at him, whispering.

He looked down and looked straight at me.

I’m a little confused, isn’t he?

And the sight of the man, the waterfall, rose to the twilight, with a red belt.

And he sat not on his side, but leaned on his cheeks, and laid on his knees, staring at me in the face, with a light smile on his lips, and with the eyes of Dan, which came cold, red on his tail, and produced a few ferocious smelts without cause.

So like, so unlike.

“Seize, girl! @Ambassah: I’m sorry.

I’m just coming back. I’m back a few steps, but the car is in front of me.

“It’s too late. Some people are screaming.

There was a flash of light in front of the eyes, and someone strangled my waist, and took it to the side of the border.

There’s fireworks all over the city.

And I looked, and I met the eyes of the cold, the eyes of the eyes, the eyes of the eyes.

I held him tight, afraid he would disappear again.

And his lips were not moving, but We heard clearly the sound of the warmth.

“Your Highness, I’m here.”

My eyes were sour, I couldn’t help but rubbing his forelock.

The bell rings on the ankle.

“Girls…” the warmth of the voice has become cold, “you’re mistaken. I’m sorry.

And the eyes of the darkness, they are heedless.

I looked at him, and I couldn’t help myself.

A white woman came by and took his arm lightly.

She told him to look, and he certainly did.

Her eyes were on my hands, and her face flashed.

“Sorry.” I’m sorry.

And he looked to the white girl, and he fell in love with God: “This is Ay, the bride whom I did not visit. I’m sorry.

The hand that’s been thrown away is a little overwhelmed. And We looked at him blindly, and he looked at me, and his eyes were strange, as though he had been looking at him, but he was looking at him as if he had become a man.

Somebody grabs my wrist and pulls back. * And when the view was in a state of panic, he put his hands on my shoulder, and looked me up and down, and I shook my head: *It’s all right. I’m sorry.

I sensed a sight coming up like a flame.

And I look back, and I see, and I see, and I look in peace, and I laugh at my lips.

“What happened to Fang? “The Ayy girl is very soft, and she’s very intimate. He smiled, “It’s okay. I’m sorry.

“What’s all right? Almost hit somebody. “The scene is loud and angry, and the fists go up.

“Assured! “Don’t move! I’m sorry.

“It’s not self-righteous.” * The view hurts so much, his face is blue and he waves his left hand, but he is caught. *

“Forget it, look. @Ai_Girl: #Jan25 #Jan25

He turned his eyes away, staring at the eyes of the view, and seemed to want to remove his hands.

I cannot leave him alone in view of the sight, which is for me. “This son, leave him alone.” I’m sorry.

He doesn’t recognize me. I can’t call him.

“Who is he?” I’m sorry.

“I’m her fiancé. I’m sorry.

The hyenas have been stunned.

Hiss. “The view is so white and there’s so much sweat in its forehead.

“Let him go. * I’m reaching out to the hand of * * * I’m going to open my hand *

He smiled, threw away his face’s wrists and threw up two words: “Damn.” I’m sorry.

And the garments of the raiment are terrible and not like white.

And the sight was red, and he went up, and I grabbed him: “Enough, enough, go.” I’m sorry.

“Look at your temper. Can you change it? @Ai_Girl: #Jan25 #Jan25 He looked at her and smiled at her: “He will listen to you later.” I’m sorry.

I’m not going to open my eyes. No, he’s not going to look. It’s not supposed to look like this.

She looked at me, and she looked at me, and she was ashamed: “I’m sorry, but this is his temper. You see some faces from outside, right? I’m sorry.

I nod my head.

She kindly invited us to visit the Lantern.

I’m leaving when the sight is cold.

She stood behind her arm, staring at me, looking deep.

As if he knew me, and as if he did not know me.

And in my heart, my doubt is endless, and I pause to draw back the sight: “Well, I want to see…”

I’d like to get close to the hyena. I want to know who he is. What does he have to do with vision?

8

I went to the pebbles, I looked over, and the pebbles were not in the dark of the night, and I looked at them, as if they were reckless dragons, fearing them, scaffolding the walls of the cliffs, burning the flames, flashing cold and dark cold lights in the dark of the night, looking at them with a pair of eyes, a smile on the face, and looking at them.

I don’t have to step back. In the dark, it’s more like a Margarita.

“Come home. “And when he appeared behind me, suddenly, as if he had spoken to himself, I looked back at him, and he smiled at me, and his white teeth were cold, and the red belt was fluttering, and he was swollen with the twigs of the eyebrows, and it was like a blemish.

And then suddenly somebody shot me on the shoulder and my heart pounded.

But she smiled and looked at me: “Don’t look at the pebbles, they’ll look scared, they’ll turn on the lights, they’ll be different.” I’m sorry.

I touched my heart and laughed, and since I entered the city of Buddha, I was terrified.

If only the white dress were there, miss him, miss him.

“Girls, welcome to the Lantern. I’m sorry.

And he had a light palm, and the flames of the stars were shining at the same time, and countless plumes of plumes were as dense as dragons, and the plumes came out of the dazzling shadows, and were floating, so spectacular, that the plumes were sculpting, and I was staring at the side of the sarcasm, and some hair.

Ay asked me suddenly, “Do you want to go up with me and make a wish?” I’m sorry.

“Well, go ahead. I’m sorry.

And behold, the sight of the garments came upon me, and the sight of the eyes touched me, as though they were laughing, and evil.

“Go ahead, I’ll prepare some important ceremonies. I’m sorry.

For some reason, he looked into his eyes, and his heart jumped, and he panicked.

I laughed, and explained, “Let’s go up and watch the ceremony.” I’m sorry.

The more you go up, the more amazing it is, the more wild sparks rise on the walls of this kiosk, as if it were flames.

I asked Ms. Ayi what kind of flower it was, and she said it was a bride flower, the custom of Buddha City, and that the bride’s wedding day would not be a bride’s flower.

I folded one with my hand around my hand and suddenly my ear started to sound like a laughter girl.

Sister, do you want to be a bride?

When his hands were shaking, I threw the bride’s flower on the floor, and I picked it up, so she didn’t go to me, laughing, “The bride’s flower can’t be lost, it’s not good.” And she looked elsewhere, and she looked bright, and she said, “Looks more beautiful there. I’ll pick one, girl, please wait for me.” I’m sorry.

I walked sore, I sat there waiting for her, I stomped my feet, I looked up, and my face was white. On a pebble on a cliff, she went to pick the flowers of the bride at the edge of the cliff, and at her feet a few cracks were made, and she shuddered, and she was unaware.

I hold my breath, walk gently, walk slowly, speak softly to her:

“Ai, I’ll help you. Don’t move. I’m sorry.

She was still looking for flowers, and she answered me, “No, I’ll be fine soon.” I’m sorry.

I’ve just walked a few steps and my ankles are ringing and a golden bell is standing in front of me.

As you can see, the blue stone that Ayle is stepping on quickly spreads through countless cracks and is about to break, with one heart talking about his voice.

It was at that point that she suddenly came out of her shoulder with a full red girl’s face, and the girl was waving at me and laughing.

“Sister, you don’t mean anything. You promised to be a bride. I’m sorry.

The night she entered the city of Buddha, the girl ghost asked me, “Does my sister want to be a bride?” I’m sorry.

I promised her, so she got me.

“You don’t want to be a bride. Let her be a bride.” I’m sorry.

The golden light is still standing in front of me, and this is a bell that senses evil and sends out to protect me. But I can’t look away and bite my teeth. I can’t save people. I’ve leaned down and picked up the gold bell, and I’m going to run over, and I’m pulling Ai. I’m sorry.

A moment of laughter by a woman, the shadows come in her ears, the hairs rise up, the heart rises, and suddenly I realize what.

Aye on the edge of the cliff, she’s smiling, turning around, one face empty, no five officials, like a terrible canvas.

“Oh, it’s your turn to be a bride, little lady. * She’s laughing, she doesn’t have a mouth, she’s making a scene. *

In fear, I threw her hand away, but she pulled, pulled, fell in a direction.

And look down, and We set foot on that piece of tattered rock, full of tatters, weightless, falling down, cold winds whizzing, mountains full of Buddhas, and roses of the sky.

“Here comes the bride, there comes the king’s bride…” The noises of the wild mountains pour into your ears.

And a loud sound began to whirlwind and spread out the earth, from the cliffs to the abyss.

A beautiful sedan flies out.

“Welcome back to the ghost. “And all the ghosts bow down, and cry out loud and clear.

After what? It’s as if countless tides have swung in.

“Please change after the ghost.” * I’m in the dark and I’m in the cold *

When I woke up, I was sitting in the vase, wearing red belts of gold and a crown of gold. Ghost, Ghost Bride? I’m dead?

I swallowed the saliva, pulled the curtains, looked out and looked pale.

The pebble glazing slurry.

From the abyss, from the rocks, from beneath the ground, the Ghosts drilled out, and the cocks were raging, and the stings were squeezing over the mountains, and the flowers were bled up from the abyss to the top of the cliffs, and the red lanterns were crackling, and the red lanterns were raging all over the mountains, and this bouquet, I was sitting, was held by the ghosts, and drifted down the red lanterns along the cliff.

As soon as the sedan fell, a woman lifted up the sedan door and reached out with a pair of white bones.

“Please follow the ghost.” I’m sorry.

I want to run, but my body is completely uncontrolled, like a manipulated puppet.

Ghosts say what I do.

And We put our hands on that white bone, and let her lead to the darkness.

She took me in with a red lantern and led me into a lantern.

In front of the Buddha, there was a red lantern, with a duplicity, full of red silk, and she made me sit on a rocking bed, and so on, and the bed was in the shape of a love, like a Buddha throne.

“The king is here, you must serve him well. I’m sorry.

She pointed to the four walls, and the stone walls were fragrance and fragrance.

Help, I want to close my eyes, but I can’t turn my eyes.

She brought a plate of green grapes, one of them crushed, and she poured that sweet juice on my arm.

“Blessed be the king and queen, and many sons. I’m sorry.

It’s so weird, it’s so sticky, it’s so sad…

But I blinked, I couldn’t stop laughing.

She lit another scent and smoked me from above.

A little fragrance, full of Buddha.

What is this about?

The ghost came up and smelled and laughed: “It will make the queen and the queen happy.” I’m sorry.

The cold body’s getting a little hot. Is it warm? That’s weird.

The ghost blessed me with good fortune.

Red Buddha, I’m sitting on the bed of the Lotus.

And the four walls swung and turned into mirrors, and looked over.

The bride who sits still on the bed of the Lotus, the clouds are full of clouds, the gold is screeching, the white face, the lips are in red plum color, the forehead of the tri-pole, and the pear vortex is a smile.

I didn’t laugh, but the more I thought, the deeper the smile on my lips.

I didn’t know how long it had taken to hear the sound of a ceremonial cannon, and the Buddha came in with a few floating lights.

I look to the mouth of the Buddha, and I look in red, and I look down on the wall, and I look down, and I look at me.

We looked with him at what the red garment was before him, and asked him who he was, and when he moved his lips, I heard the sound of his soft, tenderness.

I’ve been waiting for you. Come here. I’m sorry.

He didn’t move. I called him again:

“Look, I’m cold, hold…”

I was surprised to cover my mouth.

The red dress moved, slowly coming, halfway down on his knees, with his hands on my side.

Cold? * He stares at me, his voice is dumb, he holds my ankle, he squirms. *

And my heart shivered so hard that I watched him, as if he were in white. His eye was dark, his eyes were cold, and his face was adorned.

“Hmm? * He’s got a tiny eye and he’s got a little concern in his eyes.

It’s him, Stinky.

I’ll bite on his arm.

“The cold, the bad, the bad, the bad, the bad, where are you? I’m cold, I’m groaning, I’m afraid…” And when I see him, my tears fall and I’m sick and I’m straight, and I put my tears and my nose on his red robe.

He didn’t seem to notice the bad things I did. He just gently slapped me on the back.

“Your Highness, it’s a bad look. I’m sorry.

And when I came up, I was rubbing my eyes, sniffing my nose, and looking at the fragrance of it… . ..and the warmth of it that came down was starting to burn, and I looked at him, and looked at the lips, and it was so red, and it was so red, and it was so sweet.

“Look I’m thirsty. “I’m just staring at him.

“I’ll get the water. “He said he was about to stand up, and We held him down, and he fell into the bed of the lotus, and I sat down on his knees, and on his knees.

“Look, I don’t drink water. “And We will not allow him to resist, and We will lean over his shoulder, and We will fasten his lips, cold and sweet.

“Well, he’s got his hands up against me.” “Your Highness, take pride in yourself…” His voice was so dumb and he was sweating on his forehead.

“Look, you’re sweet…” I licked it.

His eyes were darkening, his lips were dying, and I could not offend him. I had to stare at him in the shadows and shake his arm, “Look, look, just look.”

He keeps his face off me. He keeps his voice down.

“Your Highness, the monk is a family…”

“Look, can’t I kiss you?” I’ll put my face in front of him, and I’ll ask.

His white face is thin, his ears are red and his voice is low: “No.” I’m sorry.

“Look, do you like grapes? I’m sorry.

He was confused and noded in an unknown location.

And We lifted up our sleeves and put our arms to his lips: “Look, taste the sweetness of your eyes. I am all grape juice, sweetness.” I’ll give you a sip of grape juice, and you give me a sip, and I point to his lips, and I say, “Taste this. I’m sorry.

He breathed a little bit, he covered his lips, and he said nothing.

And I covered it with my fingertips and fed it to his lips: “Taste, and look.” I’m sorry.

It was like he was hit by something.

“Looking?” * He’s got a big hand. *

Something’s wrong.

And the sun upon his forehead was glamorous, and the eyes of his eyes turned white, and he dyed with it, and the water dazzled.

The sight of a person who does not laugh, then suddenly he picks up his lips and stares at me.

“Your Highness, do you like watching? * That cold voice becomes dumb *

I swallowed my mouth and reached out with one hand to open his hand.

“Will you be a beautiful bride? He followed the good way and slowly took my other hand and locked it behind him.

I was staring at him, and I didn’t say anything.

He sank, and a big hand touched my jaw, and a thick abdomen squished my cheek.

“Hmm? Whose bride will we be, Your Highness? I’m sorry.

“The loser?” And his voice sunk.

Heart beating.

I looked down on him, “Don’t be so mean.” I’m sorry.

“Well, no offense. He smiled at his lips, full of temptation, and said, “Be good, my little lord, and say, “Who will be the bride?” I’m sorry.

My cheeks are burning: “I want to be a beautiful bride. I’m sorry.

He laughed, “But are you not going to be someone else’s bride?” I’m sorry.

And We shook our heads: “No, I am not a bride to others, but a looker. I’m sorry.

And his eyebrows shined with shade.

“If you’re not human, do you still like him? I’m sorry.

And We looked upon him, blindly,

“Look at the monks, I like him too. I’m sorry.

He stares at me and laughs.

“He’s a ghost? I’m sorry.

“Looking is not a ghost. I’m sorry.

When he waved, he pointed to the wall of his head, laughing:

“Your Highness, look what you see. I’m sorry.

I look to the top of the wall.

The sunglasses show a strange picture of a red-dressed bones and a red bride in gold.

Heart to heart.

He grabbed me on the cheeks, and he pressed the dumb smile.

“Are you afraid, little lord?” I’m sorry.

I pushed him away with fear, with my hands on the bed, and turned back.

“You’re the ghost, you’re lying, you’re not looking, where did you get the vision? I’m sorry.

He was laughing and he approached me.

“Your Highness, I am a ghost, but I’m also impressed. I’m sorry.

“I’m the ghost of the mind, he’s me, I’m him. I’m sorry.

And lo, lo, lo, lo, lo, lo, lo, lo, this which he has rejected, it is I and He. I’m sorry.

He smiled, he held my hands, he pressed me on the bed of the Lotus, his legs on me, and he pushed me down.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Your Highness, don’t you think?”

I shake my head, I can’t say it, he’s right, he’s wrong.

“Your Highness, let’s help him by watching him be dishonest and hypocritical. I’m sorry.

“Let’s start with the girls. I’m sorry.

He talks while he unbuttons me.

I said, “No, you’re not looking, I don’t want to be nice to you…”

He’s dark, he’s laughter.

“He hates me and you despise me.” Is he that good? A hypocrite. I’m sorry.

I refuted him:

“Looking is good, all good, he is good. I’m sorry.

He shakes his head.

“Your Highness, that’s him you don’t know.” Oh, Your Highness, I’m afraid you don’t remember what happened three years ago? I’m sorry.

Hide-and-see? What?

“It was cursed by that crazy woman and locked in the painting. His Highness kissed him, lifted the seal, and then…”

He drew his fingers into the water, and began to see images of the palace.

My face is changing, and those broken images are flashing through my eyes, and they’re all coming together.

It wasn’t a nightmare, he looked at me and I was in the closet, and I proposed to him, and he said yes and he retired the day before the big wedding.

“Ah, Your Highness, is it a hypocrite? He and you were already… but he didn’t want to take responsibility.”

I was so pale, my eyes were red and I was like, “Shut up. I’m sorry.

He smiled and laughed, and suddenly he had a hair on his forehead.

Hiss. *He was in pain, holding down his forehead, laughing *

“What, look, do you think you can pretend it never happened? I’m sorry.

“What are you afraid of? I’m sorry.

“Shut up. He’s got another low-pitched sound in his body.

And when the sun in his forehead will shine, and when it darkens, and a waterfall twilight will suddenly be blown away, and the last of it will gradually become snow, one inch, and it will become silver.

Buddha is quiet.

“Your Highness, it’s okay. * And his eyelids faded down and his eyes returned to cold.*

He reached out to hold me, and I stood back with my hands.

Raise your eyes with him.

“Go away. I’m sorry.

“Don’t touch me. I’m sorry.

His hands were in the air and he was pale.

9

A brief silence and stubborn paranoia.

“The poor monks will go, not now. *He’s voice is heavy, he doesn’t look at me, he’s just kneeling on his knees, holding me down and kicking his leg. *

And as soon as he touched it with his cold hand, he said,

The wind bells are ringing in front of the Buddha, the golden fragrance stove by the bed of the Lotus, the fragrance.

His head was buzzing, his ink was burning, and his hands were cold.

“Go away. * I’m so upset that the voice of the woman * * * of the woman * * of the woman * * of the woman * * of the woman * * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * * of the woman * of the woman * of the woman * * “Look, I’m hot…” And all evil words are burned to the ground.

And the most shameful thing happened, and I sat on my knees, and held his hand, and led him to the front of his neck, and his voice was soft and dumb: “Look, you’re cold, and you put me on.”

A strange picture of the sunglasses, the bride-in-law crying, kneeling on the knees of a man, holding his hand shamelessly, the man in his hand, being pulled by her, falling in front of her like a waterfall silver, covering up the beauty…

“Leave, little lord…” And he held his hand, which I had drawn on his waist, and it was dark.

I looked down on him.

He caressed my cheek with hesitation, and his eyebrow swollen, and his voice dazzled: “Is it hard? I’m sorry.

It was the curse of the painting, and now it’s the fucking Honolulu.

And the eyelashes were wet, and the tears were turning, and the pear vortex on the side of his lips was groaning at him, and he smiled, “Please, watch…” And I put my hand on his cold white face.

He stares at me in silence, and he looks dark.

I was so eager to kiss him with his cold fingertips and shake his arm, “Well, well, well, come on, I’m already your bride, and it’s time.”

When the word “bride” was heard, he was dazzled and dazzled, and his eyebrow flashed: “Will you, little lord?” * He’s damp with his forehead and he’s dumb.*

He’s got a fragrance, too, otherwise he won’t ask.

I looked at him blinking and wanted to shake his head, but I did it in a nod.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I kissed him in a hurry.

He quickly turned his back, grabbed my jaw, crushed it up, cold lips, millions of ice melted.

“The poor monk knows that the little lord won’t…”

“More than unwilling, His Highness hates the pitiful monks. His voice is so mute that he is shaking.

Does he know that I don’t want it, that he doesn’t want it, and why does he still look at it? Are you the one who’s been looking at Fang? But nothing can be said.

“I can only call out his name. I’m sorry.

He resonates, quenches my jaw, then kisses again and again, like a soft feather.

It’s him, the look, not the look.

But why? The more afraid he gets, the more he’s assimilated? But fear doesn’t do any good, nor do I like me, not by bowing myself, by putting my hands in his thick, silver hair, and smiling: “No, no, how can I hate you, I love you and I will always love to see.” I’m sorry.

That’s not true, but the man on his body seems to believe that he is holding on to me, a little bit apart, looking at me in the eye, with the ice in his eyes, and suddenly he has a faint smile and a strange feeling of familiarity.

And suddenly his long fingers were tied to my back, and he put a pin over his head and a hum in his head.

“Your Highness, I’m sorry. His voice is unprovoked.

And the twilight in his eyebrow burned to flames.

There’s sweet blood on the lips.

And the platinum lights are dark and dark, and the water in the mirror is cloudy.

The thorium penetrates from every inch of my skin, and I create a illusion in my confusion, as if I had become a burning fragrance on the oven, a smoke around me, an inch melting, melting on his fingertips.

And he strung, and the scent became stronger, and he went forth in the heat of destruction, and shivering, and the ashes shivered.

And the bell came from nowhere, in a long and slow resonance, in the shadow of the dark, and he was silent, a little bit of the tears of my cheek, and I lay in his arms,

I lay in his arms, and fainted.

10

I had a dream, just like a ecstasy cave.

When the bride fell asleep, she took the spell from below and put it on his forehead.

The bridegroom’s tender white face suddenly became painfully distorted and blood was shed on the forehead.

A white woman with a brush came up with a light on her mouth.

“King, she’s the princess of the human race, near you, to kill you. I’m sorry.

The groom’s silver hair floats, his eyes are red and he strangles the bride.

“You’ve been lying to me. I’m sorry.

She struggled, her breath became difficult, and tears came out of her eyes.

“No, no…”

“Look… you believe me. I’m sorry.

He loosed his skin and slowly let loose her throat.

And the white woman said, ‘Don’t let her deceive you. I’m sorry.

It was at this point that there was a loud noise outside the Buddha: “Your Highness should have done it.” I’m sorry.

He stares at the shivering bride and laughs: “This is what you say, believe you.” I’m sorry.

He laughed and tore the spell off his forehead.

“You want to kill me with this, you people, so stupid.” I’m sorry.

From his couch, he covered the bride with only one fox, and held her over him, kissed her, and dazzled: “Tonight is our wedding night. Let’s kill some help, my bride.” I’m sorry.

The red lanterns are covered with numerous heavy human blood and are red and purple.

So that’s the true face of the ghost king. Until then, she knew nothing.

She was shaking, begging him to stop.

His hand went into the fox’s fur, touched her cold and obstinate skin, and his lips were covered in her ears, and he laughed: “My bride, who pleased me, would not kill them.” I’m sorry.

She wanted to humiliate her.

He thinks, so she can’t go back to her people and stay.

Her eyes were red, as they used to be, and she buried her face in front of his chest, weeping low and broken.

And he fell down, “Your little Highness is indeed my precious bride.” I’m sorry.

People are outraged.

She covered her ears.

It’s finally over.

And when he touched her again, she shuddered, pale-faced, in the dark corner, and begged him: “Please, watch, and do not touch me again. I was wrong. I will never put a spell on you again, ever again…”

He had red eyes and kissed her so hard: “The wrong is the punishment.” I’m sorry.

Her tears are full of tears: “Kill me. I’m sorry.

And he whispered, “My little lord, I am not tired of it.” I’m sorry.

She bites her lips, sets her neck around his waist, and he smiles for a minute, “How can you lie to me?” I’m sorry.

She choked: “Have fun with you.” She wants him to bore her.

He’s cold, push her away.

The bride is confined to the abyss and shackled.

When the white woman appeared, she laughed at her: “I was with him for thousands of years, and he did not love me, and you showed up for a short while, and took him away, ridiculously.” “It’s okay, it’s wrong, just change it. I’m sorry.

It was the white woman who changed the letter and gave false information to the people.

The brush in her hand turned into a blade, and she approached the bride.

What are you doing here?

The white woman had a red paper on her hands, and the blade had recovered into a brush, and she looked at him.

“She’s pathetic. I came to see her and asked her to sign off. I’m sorry.

I heard the word “leave the book” and the ghost king was cold and cold.

“You don’t care too much. Go away. I’m sorry.

The ghost is pale and angry.

The King kneeled in front of the bride, and his hands covered her ankles with red scars, and his eyes were darkened. Almost at the same time she turned back and looked at him in fear, and there was no more love in her eyes.

He quickly realized that he had a complex look in his eyes and that his voice was boring.

“You betrayed me first. The ghosts hate betrayal most.

She said, “I can’t sign off until I’ve uncuffed.” I’m sorry.

And he changed his face slightly: “Are you people so defiant? I’m sorry.

“What more do you want? I’m sorry.

Her eyes were full of contempt and disgust.

He was cold in his heart, holding her shoulders down, and cold, cold teeth on her neck, cyan and fragile veins: “Did not your people say that you married a chicken and a dog? I’m a ghost. You’re my bride. Let’s try it. I’m sorry.

If you were my kind, wouldn’t you hate me so much?

She was stiff and her voice was shaking.

“I don’t have a man like you, I’m not your bride, I’m not your bride, I don’t want to be your bride”

His cold blood was sorely condensed that his cold teeth fell down on that tiny vein. She was afraid of the tremors of her teeth and she strangled her neck: “No, don’t…”

Her tears were burning on his back and it hurt.

He didn’t bite, but he showed a scornful smile.

“No. Do you have a choice? A weak, useless people.” I’m sorry.

When he waved his hand, a red light turned the shackles into dust, he picked her up and laughed: “My little lord, guess what it would be like to be born with a ghost.” I’m sorry.

Her face turned white.

He took her back to that lotus bed and scared her to have a baby.

Nothing, but careless to heal her wounds.

He had a small eyebrow, how vulnerable the human race was, so that he could bleed out of his shackles.

She was afraid to get to the point, staring at him with vigilance, and finally too tired to fall asleep.

As soon as she slept, his cold face fell down, and she slept as smooth and soft as he was close, quiet, serious and greedy.

He’s been a ghost for thousands of years.

Even if she betrays him, he still wants this weak, incompetent bride.

She woke up and looked at him.

She thought that he was going to do something, squeezed under him, bit on her lips, hid in the corner, repulsed and hated.

He dragged her over, hugged her, and his voice sank: “Sleep with me.” I’m sorry.

That’s it. Even if you don’t want to, just stay with me.

I don’t know.

The people sent for her and he stopped her on the edge of the cliff.

He told her to come back in cold and she was shaking and slowly retreating to the cliff.

“I don’t want to go back. I hate you. I’m sorry.

She would rather die than go any closer to him.

He launched a fierce, double-touching, one red-lighted attack on her fellow man.

Who would have thought that a weak bride came over and protected her kind with a weak, soft body.

How stupid and clumsy.

He brakes, but it’s too late to shake his finger.

The red light runs through her body, blood dyes her red dress more brightly, and the wind is cold on the cliff.

He killed his own bride with his own hands, and he turned his face and walked up and held her.

People took the opportunity to insert the dagger into his heart.

He was not aware, but panicped to make up for her huge blood hole.

“Let me go, watch. She held her shaking hand in half her eyes, and begged him.

He held her hand and her always warm hands became as cold as his.

“No, I’ll sew you up, all right. I’m sorry.

She’s scared of pain. She’s scared of pain.

“It won’t be okay. “I’m a little sorry that I shouldn’t go to play, go into the Hole, be fair and marry you, and that’s what’s wrong with you.” And her voice began to fade, and she said, “The living world, I shouldn’t have put it on the table that we’d never have, how could we ever have been, how could we have been?

Her cry was weak, her eyes closed slowly and her soft body became cold and stiff in his arms.

He held her in his red robe and asked those who were killing him.

“What is a living world?” His voice is calm.

No one answered him.

He began to kill indiscriminately, with red eyes, stubbornness, and repeatedly asked: “What is a living life?” I’m sorry.

The mist is like a flower of a mountain bride, and it’s going to be a waste.

Finally someone answered him.

“The custom of our people, the wedding night, and the bride put it on his husband, praying for the life of the world, that he and his heart will live together, and will never be abandoned.” I’m sorry.

Turned out that she had cast a spell on him at night, but nothing was in the hearts of the maidens, and there was no conspiracy.

He was silently digging out his blood and cold heart and crushing it.

The broken heart was turned into a red light, gradually repairing the bride ‘ s huge blood hole.

The bride woke up, looked at him, never recognized him again, but sneezed on his lips and laughed at him, then dragged a red dress to the Naho bridge.

He’s out of heart, he’s bleeding, he’s down by the cliff.

A golden Buddha has appeared from the clouds, and numerous recites have sounded.

“All evil that I have created in the past has been born of greed and indignity, and I repent now. I’m sorry.

“Wordless, back to shore. I’m sorry.

At this very moment, the dispossessed ghost king bows down.

“The disciples are willing to turn away from darkness and to convert to the Buddha, but seek a skin.” I’m sorry.

Fowler’s fingers, dotting on his forehead, and the flaming flame becomes the salvo.

As soon as he hit the waterfall, his hunting red clothes became white monks.

“Remember, before you become human, you cannot break the rules. I’m sorry.

A shadow was removed from him, twisted and struggling.

“Look, I’m you, ugly you. You think you can kill yourself? I’m sorry.

“No, but you don’t have to show up.” I’m sorry.

Eleven.

A thunderbolt woke me up with tears in the eye.

It was like a bad dream.

It’s still the night, and there’s a shawl under the fire.

And when he heard it, he turned and looked at me.

“Wake up? His voice is calm and his eyes are on me.

I wondered if there was only one red coat left on me, wrinkled, and my head was buzzing, and I dragged my pillow over him, and I struck him with evil, and drew up the covers quickly, and covered it with: “Sweet monk, do not face.” I’m sorry.

When I was done, I remembered how I behaved, and my mind went numb.

He was staring at me, and he didn’t say a word. He just lifted his pillow, put it on the stool, took a bowl of soup and ran away with a spoon.

“You hungry? He sat on the side of the bed, stomped a spoon, and fed it to my lips.

I was staring at him, and I pushed the bowl, “No. I’m sorry.

My voice is dead and my silence is terrible.

Remind me once again how ridiculous it was last night, the more you want to get involved.

“It’s sweet. He whispered.

I licked my lips, I looked, I struggled, “No. I’m sorry.

“Behave. * He fed it to my lips again *

He was so gentle three years ago, he turned his face.

“I hate you.” “I took the porridge, splattered it on the ground, and splattered it, and a tiny piece of it crossed his snow cheeks, a drop and two drops of red blood, and floated.

A tremor in the heart.

“What do you want? *He reached out a finger and wiped away the blood from his face as if nothing had happened, and he was staring at me, calming himself and asking. *

And I looked at him, and I didn’t answer, and I stood up from the bed, and I moved, and I heard a bell ringing, and I looked down, and on my ankle a string of gold bells, and last night he surrounded my ankle, and it was like a bell, and it was like a bell, and it followed the wind bell and the rocking bed, and it was a half-night, and it was boring.

And I frowned and stretched out my hand to make the gold bells, and he held it by one hand.

“Don’t touch me. I broke his hand.

His eyes were dazzled, he hesitated, his eyes moved, and his hands were loose.

There was a lock on the gold bell, but there was no gold bell, and I could not break it.

“Get this shit off me. “I was staring at him.

He was staring at me, shaking his head in silence.

I was so angry that I pushed him away and jumped out of bed with a blanket, I didn’t believe it, and I couldn’t find anything to smash this shit.

And when I pushed him, he fell on the bed, and coughed.

Where’d he learn to blackmail him?

What are you doing? You’re not gonna blame me? “I took him in a blanket.

He turned his back on me, coughing on his shoulder and shaking.

“All right. His voice is as calm as ever.

Who cares if he’s dead, he coughs, he doesn’t bother me, I turn around, and I’m holding a wall and walking towards the mouth of the Buddha, with sore feet and soft feet.

It’s so annoying, his cough’s getting stronger and his feet are not stopping.

How am I supposed to see people when I’m out, and it’s not dangerous for me to go out alone and drag this stinking monk in front.

I stopped at the mouth of Buddha and said, “Do you want to go? I’m sorry.

The heartbroken cough began to calm, and he slowly stood up and stopped by me, and I glanced at him and found a little red on his pale lips, which was not clear yet, and he grabbed me on the back, fell down, covered with a broad fox.

He took a few steps with me, and I felt it.

“Put me down. “And We dragged him in front of his brother, and pulled him, a lowly and shameful monk.

“Can you walk? *He looks down and looks down to Us, and asks himself,

And I was in a hurry, and I shook my legs, and I said, “Yes. Why can’t you walk? I’m sorry.

And he looked at me, and suddenly a smile came out of his lips, and was light and gentle.

“His Highness is tougher. I’m sorry.

I’m so angry, I bite my lips, I don’t have to go through my face, I can’t go on and on, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it. I’ve already lost my face three years ago.

I bit on my teeth and said, “It’s hard to see the master, you’ve served him well, and when I return to Jindu, I’ll give you the gold.” I’m sorry.

His voice is low: “What is the practice?” I’m sorry.

I held him in a silver-haired circle of my fingertips.

“But We shall reward him with gold, whosoever is well-serving. I’m sorry.

He stopped and looked at me, and he looked like shit, and he said nothing.

Good, got him mad.

I bit my finger and said:

“Oh, three years ago I forgot to visit my master. I’m sorry.

He was staring at me, and he was cold, and his voice was cold: “No need. I’m sorry.

At that time, the Buddha floated in with some red-shirts and asked him:

“King, everything is ready. Are we going to the Fountain now? I’m sorry.

“Hmm. I’m sorry.

Yeah, I’m just mad. I don’t know what’s going on.

Why is he called King?

Why did they disappear into Buddha City?

Who are they?

Why did he suddenly appear again? It’s a little different.

He said that I had never left the city of Buddha, and I knew nothing about it.

It’s complicated. I can’t figure it out.

And We dragged him to my chest with silver hair and whispered, “Hey, monk, I have many questions for you. I’m sorry.

He saw a red man in a lantern in front of his eyes, and suddenly he bowed down against my forehead: “Belatedly.” I’m sorry.

A little cold air spills over my cheek, and I’m blushing again.

And We hanged his silver hair and whispered, “Why are you so close when you speak, and you stink of monks?” I’m sorry.

He’s got his eyebrow, he’s got his eyebrow, he’s got his eyebrow, he’s got his eyebrow, he’s got his eyebrow.

I made up a small braid of the silver hair he had fallen down in silence, asking boring questions.

“Where is the Fountain?” I’m sorry.

“Spa.” I’m sorry.

“What for?”

“The bath. He whispered.

“Oh. Who wants to bathe?”

“My Little Highness, with me.” He will not change his face.

“Oh, that’s good. I’m sticky…” and so on and so forth. I’m sorry.

And he covered his lips, and looked at me, and explained: “This is the way of custom. I’m sorry.

What custom?

There’s a long tongue in front of me.

“After the ghost, after our newlyweds have been in the house, we have to take a bath in love with each other…”

He took a look at those ghosts, “Leave.” I’m sorry.

And when they trembled, they responded, and they flew away.

It’s just him and me, and it’s weird: “Let’s wash it. * He’s staring at me and whispering. *

A bath in love? Who’s going to have a good time with a stinking monk?

And as soon as I bite my teeth, I will jump out of him, wearing a coat of fur, and will recline in the direction of the fountain.

“Don’t be a gangster. Don’t come here. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t listen to me. He’s coming.

“Ah-oh. * And I choked, and a sharp rock cut my foot.*

He sank his face, stepped up, held me by the spring, crouched down, examined my wounds.

“Uh, it’s your fault…” I cried with my eyes, while avoiding him.

He pinched my ankle, and he whispered, “What are you hiding from?” I’m sorry.

“Ooh, stinking monk what do you want from me? I’m sorry.

He groaned and, in silence, tore long strips from his sleeves and entangled the blood wounds.

I cried and watched my dirty feet: “I want to wash.” I’m sorry.

“The wound cannot touch water. He held me down.

“But dirty, sticky. I blinked at him, “It’s your fault. What were you doing here? I’m sorry.

And he said, “You are not wearing shoes; I have to hold you.” I’m sorry.

I’m dumb, sticky, itchy.

And We said: “Bring me a cloth and I will sit and wash.” I’m sorry.

He stood up, came back with a snow towel, stood aside and suddenly began to undress with one hand and I looked at him, and my heart was beating.

Pop, he left his blouse on his side, he was crouching down, his hands on my side, he fell down, he was close, “I helped you.” I’m sorry.

As soon as his lips moved, he touched me, cold, soft.

I swallowed my mouth, and my hands were holding the spring back: “Help what?” I’m sorry.

Say something. Why are you so close, so hot and so hot?

He didn’t answer.

I looked at his gentle smile and couldn’t think.

The hot spring splattered my face and I woke up.

“Come here. “He was dipped in the spring, and he opened his arms to me, and he was silent.

“Oh. I’m sorry.

I crawled up his arm.

“Don’t touch the water. He’s got a lot of nerve.

“No, I’m… I’m still up there. Just do it yourself. * I’m embarrassed to reach out a finger, weak resistance *

He looked down and looked at my fingertips and groaned. I’m sorry.

And it was as if the fire had burned, so We withdrew our hands and hastened to explain: “I did not mean it. * I’m all red, I’m all over my hands *

And he took the snow towel in my hand, and the wind was light: “Sit on it and wash it cool, and the water is warmer.” I’m sorry.

“It seems so too. “I agree.

He dipped the snow towel, wrinkled it, pulled it up, rubbed my face gently, seriously.

And I looked at him with his abdomen, and through his abdomen he touched his skin, and my heart was like a candle blown out of the night, and I trembled, and when the wet snow towel ran over the neck, I strangled and seized the snow towel: “Come on, come on.” I’m sorry.

And I cry in my heart, and cry out, and ask for your face, but do not let the beauty be confused.

What does that say, Frou-white, but with meat skulls?

The stinking monk in front of you is a skeleton.

I wringed the snow towel.

“The legs are sore. He held his hands on me and said, calmly.

I bit my teeth: “No acid, no sour…”

I don’t know.

12

I’m so excited to get dressed, and I’m wearing new clothes, and I’m getting worse and younger.

What the hell are these ghosts up to, man?

The collar is open, the skirt is high, the shoes are not ready.

And We scolded him in the sight of him, and he rubbed his eyelids, and wrapped the fox’s fur tight, and groaned: “Buy you a decent dress, shoes.” I’m sorry.

I bit my teeth, “Right? You know how bad it is. I’m sorry.

Oh, yeah, the real thing hasn’t been asked yet.

I grabbed him and asked.

“What’s the matter with this Buddha City? Didn’t you say the land of Buddha? Why do you have so many ghosts?

“This is the city of the Ghosts, which was made by the King of the Ghosts a thousand years ago, and where he came from his heart and heart, from the caves of the Ghosts, the Dojos of the Ghosts and the Monks, he set up a cave to crush the spirits, to build a temple, to promote Buddha, to rebuild the new city, and from that he came the Buddha City. “It was only in the recent days that the King of Ghosts was reborn, and he was so restless, that nothing happened in Buddha City.” I’m sorry.

“Why does he have to cut his heart?”

And he remained silent for a moment, and his eye eyelids dwindled: “For ransom.” I’m sorry.

“For what?” “He killed his bride by mistake and took care of her soul. I’m sorry.

And behold, some of the images of the night of Buddha were flashed before them, and there was no cause for them, but a little pain in their hearts.

“Then why is he still alive when he’s dead? I’m sorry.

And suddenly he looked straight to me, and his voice dazzled: “If there is faith, there shall be death and death. I’m sorry.

“What obsession?”

His voice was low: “His bride came back and he came back. I’m sorry.

I bit my finger and thought.

“That ghost king, isn’t that the one who smiles a little bit like you? I’m sorry.

He took a glimpse of me, pulled my finger out of my mouth, and he had a tiny eyebrow: “Dirty.” I’m sorry.

“…damn monk.” Is that the King of Ghosts? Those ghosts are stupid. They can’t tell you from him. Where did you put him? I’m sorry.

He’s obstinate, unspoken, and he’s like, “I can’t take it, I can’t put it in my body for a while. I’m sorry.

‘Ah,’ I was surprised to measure him, ‘that’s what we said, what we did, was not heard, seen. I’m sorry.

He was silent for a moment, and if he thought, he said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m sorry.

It’s not that I’m scared, it’s just that it’s weird but it’s not the third pair of eyes that looked at us last night and I went to war.

It was as if he had read his mind, looked at my eyes, and whispered, “What he should not see, he cannot see. I’m sorry.

I rubbed my nose, “Oh, watch the scale.” Why did you disappear that night? Why did he say I never left? By the way, you gave me the beads before they disappeared, and when they appeared, the bells were gone, and the bells were all that remained.

“Your Highness, it is you who has disappeared. The bell on your ankle is the bell. He’s a little cold, and he’s like, “As for the one with the last name, he may have been in a fantasy when you played in Buddha City before.” I’m sorry.

Huh? What’s he saying? I don’t understand a word.

He was in the air, and the picture appeared.

And the sweetness and the vision of the sky, and the glitter of the lanterns, I stood in front of the gallery, and suddenly a painting fell down, and I crouched down and spread it, and the scene of that painting was another creepy Buddha City, and there was a white flash in front of me, and the night market disappeared, and there was an extra me in it.

Frightening cold sweat.

So I was sucked into the picture of Buddha City?

And I cried, and asked him, “No, we are still in the picture. I’m sorry.

He nodded his head.

I want to cry, I want to paint, I want to paint, I want to hide, I want to paint, I want to paint, I want to paint, I want to paint,

He added, “These are the handbrushes of the artistes…”

Right, isn’t that the day the artist is happy?

So the first act in the picture was the red and white and scared me enough.

I couldn’t help but strangled his cheeks: “It’s all you. It’s all you. Why are you messing with that crazy woman? I’m sorry.

He will surely look at me, looking: No. I’m sorry.

His white cheeks make me squeezed red, and he doesn’t seem to be responding. I’m sorry.

“I didn’t mess with her.” I’m sorry.

Why did he explain so carefully? I said softly: “Why did she bother you?” I’m sorry.

“She came to Datoji and prayed for blessing, and the road slipped, and almost fell, and I helped her. I’m sorry.

What are you doing?

And I bit my teeth and looked at him, “Do not help anyone, especially women.” I’m sorry.

He was silent and shook his head, saying, “I am a Buddha of mercy. I’m sorry.

And I gave it to you, “Well, you keep it up, but I’m going to get you out of this mess. Look, I’m a golden leaf, and I’m going to sleep and sleep, and I’m afraid.

He looked at me, and he was dark and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m embarrassed to keep counting.

I snagged, forget it.

“Now that we’re in the picture, everything that happened was a fantasy. The Prince, the King of Ghosts, the Ay, the Hole of Ghosts? I’m sorry.

He shakes his head and whispers: “The Cave of Ghosts, the King of Ghosts, the Lord of the Young Towns, and Ay is also present in the true city of Buddha, except that in the true city of Buddha, the King of Ghosts, though he was born, is not awakened, and the Holy Ghosts are still being suppressed, and Ay is the orphan daughter of my parents and I am the Lord of the Young City. I’m sorry.

Am I mistaken?

“Wait, you say you’re the mayor?” I confirm again.

He’s nodding with no face.

I said, “You’re not going to be a monk?”

And he whispered, “I was always in the shadow of evil when I was a child, and in order to keep my peace, my parents asked Hiromun’s Master to drive me away from the disease, and Hiromun’s Master made a decision for me, saying that I needed to turn to Buddha’s Gate before I was twenty-one.” I’m sorry.

“When you’re 21? I’m sorry.

I remember he was born on New Year’s Eve. Next month, he turned 21 years old.

He looked at me and noded his head.

I’m a little depressed. I thought he’d quit because he was a Buddhist.

“You didn’t tell me where you were then. “Why did you lie to me? You didn’t want to marry me at first. I’m sorry.

“Sorry. I forgot a lot of things in the first half of the month that came out of the painting, and I was confused, and the day before the wedding, my master came and I returned to normal. He’s a low voice.

Oh, it used to be a painting. No wonder it changed overnight.

I cried, “No, it’s over. It’s only when you said the truth, and I won’t blame you. Why erase this memory?” I’m sorry.

If it wasn’t for me and not just me, anyone around me could not remember that a monk called the Spectator almost married me, the only logical explanation is that he erased our memories.

He was quiet, unprovoked, reaching out to my eyes, and his voice sunk.

“Your Highness the truth may not be as good as it should be.”

I pulled his hand and laughed, “Forget it, the past is over.” I’m sorry.

“Who is that Ayi girl in the real Buddha City? Your fiancée? I’m sorry.

His lips are silent.

I shaked my legs: “You’re so young, you’re so good, you can buy me a drink.” I’m sorry.

And he broke with me in silence: “Your Highness, there will be no such day.” I’m sorry.

And I shrugged my shoulder: “O Master, why does no one love?” I’m sorry.

He was staring at me.

“Well, I don’t want to hear about you, Master, what now? I’m sorry.

“Go to the ghost market and find the painting. That’s the exit. I’m sorry.

“Does the ghost market sell clothes and shoes?”

“Hmm. I’m sorry.

“Fine, I’ll buy clothes and shoes. I’m sorry.

“He’s got his eyebrow, he’s got my fox, he’s got his arm, he’s got his arm, “Is it cold? I’m sorry.

“No, I can’t let you hold me like this all the time. I have to look for a view and take him with me.” I’m sorry.

He stopped, he looked at me, he looked cold.

My neck is a little chilly: “Why? Are you having animosity with the view?” I’m sorry.

He asked, “Will you marry him?” I’m sorry.

“It has nothing to do with watching Master. I’m sorry.

He’s silent.

13

Getting into the ghost market, I feel like I’m back on my walk.

They’ll be dead on their legs.

“What does the king want?”

“Her clothes, shoes. I’m sorry.

“Come on. I’m sorry.

And I blinked, and I was dazzled with gold, and I fell on my embroidered shoes, and I walked and shined.

The traffickers stood on their sides, turning around, poking at my beauty.

“The ghost is so beautiful, and indeed, there are no ancients.”

“It’s a shock to God! “There are a few ghosts who work together and cry.

The rest of you, nod your head, and a few of you are gonna throw your head off.

And We brought forth a heavy golden step, and We laughed: “Alas! “Is it pretty?” I’m sorry.

And his white ash was gleamed by Our beauties.

“Hmm. * He responds, he raises his hand and covers his eyes. *

I’m afraid I can’t see my face so well.

And I was in a good mood, and I said, “Every one has a reward.” I’m sorry.

And the devils rejoiced, and I rejoiced, and grunted, and took a look.

The voice of the vision has become soft: “Is it a pleasure, Your Highness? I’m sorry.

I’m happy, ha ha ha ha, and I’m turning around in front of him, “Look how pretty I am. Don’t tell me they’re pretty good. I’m sorry.

He stares at me, and it’s hard to smile at his lips.

I touched the jaw and looked at him: “Do you think it’s time for Master to change your body? I’m sorry.

His lips were filled with laughter and he coughed: “Isn’t he looking for a view?” I’m sorry.

Yeah, I didn’t.

As a result, a view was found in the flowerhouse, and the guy was fighting with the girls for a drink.

I dragged him away before, and he was drunk, and he leaned on me, and he looked at me, and he said, “Oh, you look at me, you’re all golden, you’re all red, you’re like a red bag.

Bullshit, I gave him a twat.

Where are you taking me? I haven’t had enough.

I caught him in the arm, put him on his shoulder, scolded him.

“What do you want to drink? You’re in a ghost hole, you know? I’m sorry.

“What a groove. It’s a tender country. The girls can be gentle. I’m sorry.

“Yes, yes, yes, the girl is gentle, afraid of your life. I’m sorry.

Well, if it wasn’t for the small points, I wouldn’t want to talk to him.

And as soon as he came down, he was waiting, and he was cold, and he pulled the view, “I got him.” I’m sorry.

..he’s got a real grudge against Guang.

Who are you? “and he was pushed away, drunk and blinded.

Look at the lips.

I couldn’t see it right. I was too busy looking at it.

Don’t mess with me. I’m sorry.

I’m not finished.

“You hit me that day. “The scenery broke out of my hand and went up with a fist in the face.

Again, he didn’t see how he did it. He heard only one bang, and he fell on the ground.

I ran up and looked, and I said, “What have you done to him? I’m sorry.

“He’s drunk, asleep. “and stand behind me, faceless.

“I believe in you a ghost.”

I groaned my nose and breathed. All right, all right.

“He’s too heavy, I can’t pull alone. I’m sorry.

“I’ll do it. I’m sorry.

Watching the whole thing won’t let me work.

14

Come out of the painting, the night market is luxurious, the lights are bright.

And the image of the monks in white is restored to them, and the sun is dark and cold, and cannot be desecrated.

I’m staring at him, and I can’t see his silver and red in the mirror.

My heart moved.

I asked him, “Did it happen as if it were a dream? I’m sorry.

He looked at me, a moment of silence, a little head.

Oh, so we didn’t really…

It’s been a while since the fall.

But soon, I shot him in the arm, and I laughed, “Well, well, well, well.”

He stares at me, he looks dark.

Brother! Where were you? Who is this? “The sweets are coming up.

I’ve seen a lot of ghosts, and I’ve suddenly found out that you’re very kind.

“Omni, the ice-cracker that you bought for you is melting. “As you can see, you have a glucose, wrinkled, snorting, whispering.

So we spent so much time in the painting, in the real city of Buddha, it was only a moment.

I took a glucose pickle and one left for the vision.

Animation cheers: 栀栀 ! ! ! ! I’m sorry.

“Doggy leg. “It’s not from my seniors. I’m sorry.

And We spit on her: “He is mine. ‘Well, I’ve been fighting fast, I’ve seen someone in my heart, and it’s all right, he looks the same, he didn’t break the stage.’

Who are they? “I woke up with my eyes on my face, he didn’t recognize me and forgot what happened in the painting.

And We introduced, monks, aunts, and water to each other.

I’m just going to pull the scene.

“It’s time to go back and find you all day. I’m sorry.

Oh, it’s time to go back. Time to split up.

The feeling of loss has fallen and the sugar in the mouth is not sweet.

I looked forward to watching, wearing my sleeves and whispering my farewell: “Then I left.” I’m sorry.

And he stood in the fire of light, and half of his face was in darkness, dazzling his pale lips.

“Well, safe journey. “No detention.

The breeze began and the snow-colored monks in the dark rose.

I looked back, I couldn’t look more, I turned away.

At the end of Long Street, I couldn’t help but look back and the white monks have disappeared in the night.

“Are the sugar-sniffers still here?” “The throat is sore that it needs sugar.

“…how old are you, eating…”

I kicked him in the foot: “Go and buy it for me, or I will go back to your brother and sue you for blackness.” I’m sorry.

15

The last night in Buddha City, when I couldn’t sleep, came out of the window, and the sound of cynicism came out like countless whispers, groaning, groaning, and a goosebump.

I mentioned that the candlestick was moved to the window, and I turned around, and the sound disappeared, and it was dark, and there was nothing. Just breathed, ready to close the window, and suddenly his back was burned, and a drop of blood was spilled. The heart jumped and looked up, and there was a month of blood in the mid-air, like a melted candle, a big drop of blood flowing down, a tremor of hands and a falling candle.

And look down, and there are dozens of broken people lying on the ground, and hundreds of them are surrounded, eating their bones, and swallowing them, and I will cover my mouth to death.

The sky is full of red moons and rivers of blood.

And the wind passed through the window, and they hollered, and they raised their heads and looked to me, and laughed at me with their mouths covered with red blood.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m sorry.

I’ve got a face. I’m going back.

Boom, boom, boom.

There was a loud knock under the inn, not one man, but countless.

“Ooh. It’s almost breaking the door.

And there was a cry, “Come and hurry.” I’m sorry.

I woke up and ran out and cried out in the halls: “Don’t open the door and close it.” I’m sorry.

I’m bluffing.

What’s wrong? “I woke up, and I couldn’t say more, and I told him to go downstairs and block the doors and windows.”

The lights were on in the shop room, and someone yelled at him: “What’s the noise? I’m sorry.

I picked up a back-up copper turn in the corner of the corridor, “Kills, kills.” I’m sorry.

A time when the baby cried, the woman was scared, the man kicked the door…

People were woken up and panicped down the stairs.

The sound of banging outside became more intense, with all of them tan and deadly blocking doors and windows.

“What’s going on? “Someone outside is eating people.” I’m sorry.

All the people were white and their lips were shaking like leaves, and they said, “Here we go again.” I’m sorry.

“What is it again? I’m sorry.

“Twenty-one years ago, on the night of the birth of the master of the town, the blood moon rose, and many people in the city suddenly went crazy, and people ate people…”

I jump in my heart, young master?

The man trembled: “The people who were splattered with blood that night, went mad, bit people, eaten people, died many people…”

And suddenly the blood on the back of his hand was scalded, and We stopped, and We turned back in fear.

“What about the crazy people? What happened to them?” I couldn’t ask.

“Death, all dead, they bite, they eat, and those they bite begin to eat, like the plague… Later, a group of monks came and said that they had to burn them, otherwise they would continue to bite and that the pestilence of man-eating would be endless. I’m sorry.

And?

“The master of the Old City ordered them to burn…”

My hands and feet are cold.

The banging outside the door suddenly disappeared.

Everybody hold their breath and hear nothing.

After a long time.

“They seem to have gone? No sound. I’m sorry.

Someone quietly pushed the window and looked out.

“There’s no one left. He went back, apparently relieved.

There’s someone in the back!

Countless pairs of hands with red bride flowers came in through the window.

Blood and blood are flying, and people are trapped and paralyzed.

“Aah! The young woman died and covered her eyes.

In a blink, a pair of fresh and bloody eyeballs fell on the ground, the wall was covered with stench of blood, the sky was full of flesh, and countless mad people outside the window broke with black bats.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. “

It was a unilateral slaughter.

Numerous screams of terror are woven together to pierce the quiet night.

The guard in front fell and became blood on the wall and flesh on the ground.

There’s only one thing left to stand before me.

There’s a constant noise in my ear.

Hungry, thirsty, young lady, eating meat, drinking blood. I’m sorry.

Hungry, thirsty, I looked straight ahead and put my hand on his shoulder.

And suddenly, there was so many golden lights.

“The Holy Pilgrimage, the battle of the gods, has caused thunder to break. I’m sorry.

The madman who’s eating humans is locked in and he’s not moving.

The sound of the sound of the sanctified micro-ethanol was low: “Your Highness.” I’m sorry.

And We blinked, and turned, and the next moment We were thrust into the arms of a palanquin.

“Your Highness, it’s okay. “He gently touched my head.

My eyes rose red, and I cried, “Look and hold him in my hand, but remember what just happened, what would I have done if he hadn’t come?”

I took my hands back and pulled my sleeves over my hands.

Those who are splattered with blood are going crazy. They’re like a plague. I’m a plague.

I’m afraid, especially of being found.

“Your Highness, don’t worry. * He’s slapping my back over and over again, and his voice is so smooth and his heart sore *

Those who fled were surrounded, surprised to see us, and he looked away.

Someone pushed the door in, some guards, and, Miss Ay.

“See your brother, they will wake up soon. “The sound of her tender voice awakened me.

And We turned aside and turned back a few steps.

And he pulled me back, and he was dazzled: “Follow me.” I’m sorry.

“Close the Chuk Street immediately. He was ordered as the master of the town.

The chaos of the month’s blood has subsided.

16

We followed the gaze back to the main castle.

At dinner, we met with the old master and the old lady, who greeted us very warmly, but they were different.

“Look, get Ay some food. The old lady told me to watch.

Aywe has a red face, a little shy.

I took a look at him, and he snuggled, and he put chopsticks on her.

Well, after New Year’s Eve, when he was common, they just…

“Thank you for watching my brother. She called her brother sweet.

And We held fast the chopsticks, and We put down our heads, and we put a few grains of rice, and the rice didn’t taste good at all. And I kicked in the sight of the neighbour, and he was confused, and We directed him without a word: “Bring me some meat.” I’m sorry.

He bites chopsticks, he bends his head, he doesn’t understand it. I can’t help but kick him again.

And suddenly he came across the white hand.

And in a moment, my food fell upon a hill, and my head fell into the silent eyes.

He didn’t change his face. “Whoever wants him to pick it up,

“I can’t eat so much. Please eat for me. I’m sorry.

And We assigned all that he had caught to a view, and glanced at him by surprise, and there was about a blackness in his eyebrow.

It wasn’t long before we went back to the room. Someone knocked, pushed.

I’m not going to invite him into the house, but I’m going to look down and look at the grapes he’s carrying, and I’m not going to swallow them back, “Come in. I’m sorry.

He sits by and skins his grapes in peace, with his eyes on him, and he looks carefully.

I’m bored with the teacup on the table. I can’t get rid of him if he doesn’t say so.

And he took one of them to my lips, and it was the same as it was, and the sound was gentle: “Eat!” I’m sorry.

I looked at him, and he was adorned, and my mouth was wide open, and I touched him with a little bit of cool, and I looked at him, and I drew a water on his fingertips, and I hastened to explain: “I did not mean it.” I’m sorry.

The face burned unchallenged.

He whispers, he stares at his fingertips, he has a tiny twilight eyebrow, and he has some red hair.

Disgusting?

And We delivered him with a handkerchief: “Well, wipe it.” I’m sorry.

He didn’t answer, but he stared at me, pointed his finger at his lips…

And he covered his lips, and his eyes were darkened.

I was scared in his eyes, and I stood up, and I was standing by my side, and I was not eating. Master Shifu, if you don’t go, I’ll rest. I’m sorry.

He stood up, much taller than I, standing in front of him, with a sense of oppression.

“Not clean. “He doesn’t say anything.

And We looked to him in doubt, and saw him in the shades.

I picked up my handkerchief to wipe, but I heard his dumb voice: “Don’t waste it. I’m sorry.

Don’t waste what?

And the next moment, he squeezed my jaw, and his soft, cold lips were pressed.

My heart beats like a drum, and I grabbed his sleeve.

“Why share him?” He put me in his arms and his voice was dumb.

I’m a little sleepy.

“Look at the landscape. He’s got a bad tone.

Well, of course it’s because of temperament, but I didn’t answer him.

And he raised his eyes, and looked at me, and saw me silent, as if I were to be punished, and tasted harder.

“…goodbye. “The two legs are shaking, and they barely stand up.

No painting, no hula drive.

I don’t know why. I was unconscious.

On the other side is a dressing glass, a glimpse of the chaos, a glimpse of the man, a red and white bone, and I rubbed my eyes and looked.

A cold water pouring down, and We grabbed him in his arm, and he groaned, and he looked at me with a little red eye, and he fell away with the sound of “Little Highness…” and his eyebrow was as red as blood.

“Who are you?” I’m afraid.

He’s not glamorous, he’s a ghost.

He looked behind my eyes, and he had a look on his face.

“I’m watching. * He takes back his sight, and he looks at me, and looks. *

I shake my head: “No, you are not, you are a ghost.” I’m sorry.

His eyes were dim, and his lips were white with water: “Your Highness…”

And when he had not finished, he had a red spill over his lips, his body was cold, but his blood was hot, a drop fell on my shoulder, and he was hot.

He was dazzled, silent, and found the cold fingertips to erase the blood flower, and We pushed him in terror. He was not prepared, and I pushed him away, and almost fell.

He appears to have become weak again, holding the table around him, wiping his eyebrow and covering his heart, as if he was in pain, but breathing with restraint.

I’m pulling up an insolent skirt and backing back.

And his lips moved and he laughed strangely.

“Oh, she hates the real you. “The laughter of the blouse.”

His face was cold.

“Look, you will always reveal your true purpose, even if you convert to Buddha and wear a skin, and you will never be free of your own birth, and you will never be free of anything, and you will never be able to control yourself, and you will see her with another man, and you will be jealous, and you will have her all.” I’m sorry.

“No…” He tightens the tablecloths, and his forehead is strewn, and his pale lips force him to say, “Whatever looks is false…”

“What were you doing? “The laughter is getting wilder.

He’s ugly.

“Alas, if she only knew what you really were, she would fear you, hate you, flee you, a thousand years ago, and still a thousand years later, and come back, throw away this skin, and be herself again, so as not to pretend to deceive herself.” She won’t fall in love with you… but what does it matter if you’re still the King of Ghosts, even if she’s afraid of you and doesn’t love you? I’m sorry.

“Shut up. *He’s dead and he’s been bit on his lips with blood.*

And He raised his eyes and his shadows and his eyes upon Us, and the sun was blind and blind.

“Your Highness, you know what? It was only because of him that the Blood Moon appeared in the city of Buddha, and evil came upon him, and the ghost came upon him, and the ghosts returned, and your people died. I’m sorry.

I remember what they said.

“He’s me, I’m him. I’m sorry.

“He, I can’t take it, I can’t take it.”

The King of Ghosts.

I tried to get out of here, but my wrist was pulled.

“Don’t go, Your Highness. * He died on my wrist, begging with red eyes. *

Fear, fear, I reached out to break his cold and cold hands: “Let go of me.” I’m sorry.

His eyes became dark and desperate at this moment.

He slowly let go of my hand, I was shaking out the door and he coughed behind me, only a few short steps, but I felt very long.

The bell on the ankles is shaking with the pace, and it’s his bead, and it’s always got me…

He’s a ghost, but he’s a vision.

I took a deep breath and I put my hand on the porch and I turned and asked him.

“You’re watching, right?”

His voice was weak: “Hmm. I’m sorry.

“You’re a ghost, too. I’m sorry.

He looked down, looked dark, noded his head.

“The King of Ghosts killed his bride, cut himself up, protected her from death, she came back, he came back, me and her… she was my last life”? I’m sorry.

He raised his eyes and looked straight at me, and his eyes were dark: Yes. I’m sorry.

“You always knew? I’m sorry.

He shook his head and laughed, “No, I thought I was a human being until the night of Buddha, and I was trying to suppress it, but it seemed like I had failed.” I’m sorry.

“The one who looked at him? I’m sorry.

He laughed: “I turned away from the darkness and turned to the Buddha, and he was the one whom I had abandoned. I’m sorry.

“Why did you convert to Buddha and pretend to be an adult? I’m sorry.

He is pale and his voice is soft: “So you will not fear me, nor hate me.” I’m sorry.

I’m a little confused: “Why not stay with me from the beginning? I’m sorry.

His hands were on my shoulder, and his eyes were starting to fade and his lips moved.

“Sorry. Your Highness. I’m sorry.

“On New Year’s Eve, I’ll be a man forever. Until then, I can’t. I’m sorry.

I put it on his arm, “Are you human now, or a ghost?” I’m sorry.

“Not necessarily, but I choose to be human. *He suddenly fell down and fell on my shoulder, and his voice was intermittent, * “Even if he is missing, dead… * As long as the little lord never again * His voice is so low that he can’t hear it.

He’s stiff and cold as a corpse.

17

They say it’s dead.

He was stopped in the auditorium and fell asleep in peace, with white faces and white lips, and colours of the haze.

The vision covered two big red eyes and asked me.

“Is your brother sleeping with you? I’m sorry.

“Why do you ask? “I touched the white face in my coffin.

“As he slept with a woman three years ago, he almost died when he came back, and he saved his life. I’ve seen him sneak out of blood a few times lately, like he’s sick, and now he’s dead, and he must have broken his ring again.”

He lied to me, saying that what happened in the Buddha was an illusion.

But he broke it, that’s true.

“Isn’t he a twenty-one-year-old? He’ll break the rules just like he is. I’m sorry.

“Sensei said he’ll be fine when he turns 21. I’m sorry.

No wonder he said he couldn’t…

He turned him to the Buddha before he turned 21 to avoid me.

If it wasn’t for that painting, we wouldn’t have met until he was 21.

The bell on his ankle snapped.

The bell won’t work if my man dies.

The old town masters were crying, asking me what I was involved in.

And We made white flowers on their bellies: “I am his dead.” I’m sorry.

What are you talking about? “I’d like to take away the white flowers that I have.

And We pushed him, half of him kneeling by the casket, and We held on to his cold hand, and lay upon his face.

“I’m not gibberish. I’ll see to it. I’m sorry.

He’s just gonna be sleeping and not coming out for me.

And all of a sudden, there’s an itch on the back, as if something came out of the flesh.

With a look down, a red bride burst out of a cyanic vein, with a radiant heart and large petals, along her wrists, and suddenly rises on her arms.

The wind ruffled the casks of the temple, and the candles danced, and suddenly someone screamed.

Her hands!

“She was also splattered with blood…”

Aey came and pushed me out of the coffin.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I grabbed her wrist and I had to bite her.

A lot of scoundrels were stopped, and a spell was placed on me, a spell that had previously been seen.

It hurts. I’m in the dark.

18

The mad men of Blood Moon Night were sent to the altar, including me.

Their hands and feet were shackled, their foreheads were emboldened and they could not move.

“Burn them, and they will never pass over.” I’m sorry.

The people under the altar went mad and threw stinking eggs, rotten leaves and acid.

There’s a lot of hate over here, and there’s kids playing with fireworks and clapping.

It’s New Year’s Eve, a lovely birthday.

They tried to save me, but they were many, and they took him away.

“She’s a princess. If you touch her, you’ll all die. I’m sorry.

The Lord of the Old City, with its white hair, heard him. He shook his head and lamented to me, saying: “I am sorry to you, my child, for whatever you are, I will only burn him if I stand here today, and there are millions of people in this town, and I cannot leave millions of people in the fire for a child.” I’m sorry.

He walked down the altar, and Ms. Ayi led the guards and raised the torch.

She came to me, crouched down and said with a voice only I could hear: “Do you want to save him after this night and see him dead?” I’m sorry.

I looked at her, and her face turned into a white canvas, without five officials.

“Who are you?”

She smiled, “You have been in my paintings many times.” I’m sorry.

“A woman painter”?

“Yes, I’m the cursed painter and ghost-ghost. We met a thousand years ago. I’m sorry.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to welcome back the King of our Ghosts, who has been waiting for a thousand years, but this time he still chooses to turn his back on us, rather than die, and to be with you a useless man. Do you want to save him and bring him back? I’m sorry.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter if he breaks the law. In fact, he refused to be the King of the Ghosts, lest you should turn away from him, and he will listen to you, if you please. I’m sorry.

And We choked: “So many paintings, one vision after another, were intended for him to break his chain, and to drive him out of his way, and to become a ghost, right? I’m sorry.

She laughed, “Yes. If he breaks the ring, he’ll be back. But the king is too stubborn. He prefers to die and sacrifice everything for you. What about you? Will you save him?”

“But he’s dead.” I’m sorry.

“His body dies before his soul dies. I can make you talk to his soul if you want. I’m sorry.

Deadly temptation.

I don’t like that silent, cold body in the coffin.

I miss the sight of life, and I miss his return. I think his cold, soft kisses, his gentle, strong arms, his sometimes light smiles, even if sometimes he talks to me in cold, but he likes…

I whispered, “I want to save…”

“The sugar melons, the new year has come. Girls want flowers, boys want guns. “The cold wind brings the voices of the young children to their ears, in the alleys, and a few children play with firecrackers, grunting rumours and flashing light in their eyes.

This man is a temporary peace of mind.

And the water was cloudy in the eyes, and We covered our lips, and We swallowed the latter part.

Once the resurrection is observed, the King returns and the ghosts awake, the people will face the consequences.

And We choked and shook our heads: “I will die with him.” I’m sorry.

She stood up, and her face was blurry and she laughed.

“You choose this way, but not the king. Does he want you dead? The human body is broken, but it can be used again, and he should come. I’m sorry.

She waved and ordered: “Ignition.” I’m sorry.

“Stop it. @Ambassah: #Feb14 #Jan25

He came at night without a single white shirt.

“Look at me…”

He slowly went up the stairs, looked pale, walked in his feet, approached me step by step.

The Lord of the Old City shouted, “Look, come down. I’m sorry.

He turned his back on me.

A few steps away, a cold wind whistling, arrows breaking through.

He fell on the ground, kneeling on one knee, and an arrow was placed on his left knee, with blood coming out.

The Lord of the Old City did not lie, and he would not abandon his people for a child.

And We turned to him, and asked him, “Go down, and do not come any closer.” I’m sorry.

He seemed to be deaf, pale, dragged a leg, leaned towards me, slashed his blood on the ground and broke a cold arrow, kneeling on his knees, with his face down and not in the dark.

He couldn’t see his face. He stood up with his hands and moved and finally came to me.

“Look, will you go down? I reached out to touch his face, but the shackles held me.

I’m sorry, look, I can’t save you, I can’t save myself.

He shakes his head, and his eyes fall upon my ankles, and his eyes are darkened.

“Does it hurt? Little Your Highness. * He caressed his ankle red. *

“It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt at all. “I smiled easily.

His voice was like dust: “My little lord, take you away.” * He’s holding his face up, holding his hand in his fists, breaking the shackles, but now he’s too weak, he’s bleeding out of his long, white finger.

And I saw his eyebrow rose red, and his eyes rose dark, and he was resting on him: “Look, listen to me. Go down, wait, and someone will come to save me.” I’m the princess of Tokuyama. It’s amazing. They won’t touch me. He can’t hear me, he doesn’t say a word, he’s white, he’s biting his teeth, he’s smashing harder, he’s smug.

“Why is being so useless? His eyes are getting red, and the shade on his forehead is getting more purified on his pale face.

There was a thunderbolt in the sky, and the next gust of the moon was swallowed by a cloud, and the white moonlight seemed to be mixed with a grim red and ominous omen.

Once again, he thinks it’s useless to be human and he’s likely to change.

We tried to appease him with a calm tone.

“No, look, you’re the best. Now you’re just sick. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.

And when he did, he suddenly cried under the altar, “Burn them, burn them, and wait for the hour.” I’m sorry.

His face is cold and his eyes flash out.

The city guards came up: “Please leave the town.” “He looked to those guards and looked cold.

That is the sight of a white man who has never been seen before, and in his heart, and I smiled at him.

“Look, just listen to me for once. Go and buy me some sugar. I’ll be right back. I’m sorry.

And he looked back at me, and the cold of his eyes receded, but he was still shaking his head in silence and standing still, like a statue that had stayed in motion before the storm.

And I looked at him, and I said, “Damn monk, I hate you if you don’t leave.” I’m sorry.

“Don’t hate me.” “The sound is a bit of a stale.

I almost woke up red-eyed, and I put up with him, and I laughed at him, “No, go ahead. I lied to them. Will you come over later? I’m sorry.

He’s staring at me like he’s thinking.

Forced awakening, at a time like a dead body.

“Be a good boy, I love to see you.” I’m sorry.

And he heard it, and suddenly his eyes became soft, and his lips were filled with a quiet smile, and he leaned towards me and solemnly kissed me on the forehead, and his voice was as soft as the snow of the moon and the night: “Well, I love the little lord.” I’m sorry.

If you want to cry, you can’t stop turning up. It’s the first time you’ve said you like me.

“Back. “Someone threw a stinking egg, a sticky, dirty drop of liquid.

The world was still at that moment, dark.

The broken arrows were crushed, the white burrows were hallucinated into fresh red clothes, and he flew like the silver hair of the Falls in the night wind.

It’s like lightning, but it’s not in time to react, and there’s a whirlwind in the crowd.

Look over there, under the altar, and the one-handed one-handed one-faced one-smirk.

The next minute, tore, flesh and blood.

It’s freezing.

In the end, it happened.

He’s broken, my white dress is gone, the Ghost King is awake.

The ghosts come from all sides, bow down, shout.

Screams were raging, and the next string was completely swallowed up by clouds, which were rolling, and gradually turned into clouds of blood, and began to rain, and the stench of red blood poured down.

Half of him kneeled before me, touching his blood-stained two fingers, and the shackles were turned into powder.

And he took me up and carried me, and the sky came with a red silk umbrella, covered up, and blood rained down, and a rotten bride flower.

“Look stop. I’m sorry.

He can’t hear.

Half of his face was in the dark, and a smile came out on his lips, and he struck a loud finger.

Everything on the altar is forbidden to break in an instant.

The mad people opened their teeth to those who were panicking under the stage and fled and began to hunt for death.

And We trembled in his arms: “Do not look like this. I’m sorry.

It was thunder in the air and the ghosts were laughing and cheering.

On his knees: “Welcome to the King. I’m sorry.

And he took me, and came to her, and leaned down, reaching out his hand with red blood, and overstretched her neck, and his voice was not heavy: “You ruined her.” I’m sorry.

King! And she wanted to argue that the next moment, his hands squeaked and squeaked, her head fell in the bloodbath, her eyes were wide open.

There were countless drawings rolling in the air, and he walked and tore and walked to the Lord of the Old City.

The white beard of the master of the old city is shaking, and the front walls of the guard are small mountains.

“The shackles hurt her. He spoke calmly, reached out again and approached the Lord of the Old City.

I grabbed his wrist with my hands: “Look, no, he’s your father.” I’m sorry.

He’s been looking down at me, looking down at me, and there’s already a fire in the eyebrow: “But little lord, it must hurt.” I’m sorry.

We stopped him with fear: “No pain, no vision. He did not intend to harm me. Do you not remember?” I just said that someone would come for me, that’s him, that’s the old town master. He’s a good man. He won’t hurt me. I’m sorry.

He whispered, “Well, do not kill him.” I’m sorry.

He turned his eyes on the archers.

I put my hand in his eyes: “Shall we go back to life?” I’m sorry.

He held my hand firmly, all wet, all blood.

He smiled softly at me, and he was gentle: “Okay, young lady, let’s go home. I’m sorry.

He took me down the altar and walked through Long Street, where the lights were bright.

On the night of the New Year, the people of the city became ghosts.

The King’s home is the Hole, and he holds me, and returns to the cave full of joy.

He untied my hair and took me to the lotus bed.

The stench of herd has disappeared, leaving only the smell of blood.

“Your Highness, we are all living together. I’m sorry.

His eyes were on the sunglasses, in which he was a terrible bone.

He frowned and whispered, “Is the little lord afraid of the white bones in the mirror?” I’m sorry.

He raised his hand to break the mirror.

And We looked down on the top of the mountain, and the lights of the city were extinguished, and the blood flowed.

I met Hiro Yun, the legendary master.

At the time of the accident, the vision sweets left Buddha City to find him.

He gave me a spell, which I put on the forehead.

“He’s gonna die, right?”

“He died and the blood moon and the ghosts disappeared.” I’m sorry.

“Three years ago, he didn’t remember his previous life. Why did he retire? I’m sorry.

“He did not think he could survive the events, and did not wish to delay His Highness so that he could withdraw his marriage to His Highness. “It’s not like he said, awake, so don’t me. Look at me.

“It wasn’t by chance that he appeared at the temple, was it? I’m sorry.

“The bells of His Highness are attached to him, and he is able to deliver a message in addition to a safe haven, which he would have felt in case of distress. I’m sorry.

The sight of this world, he never wanted me.

I can’t get down on the ground and cover my face.

“I don’t remember the last life, but maybe it was really annoying. But I know the beauty of this life. He’s kind and gentle. Why is he so good? I don’t want him to die. I know, being a human princess, it’s a terrible thing to say, but master, you know it. And he did not want to kill a little snake; why was it he? He was certainly a man and qualified. I’m sorry.

The voice of the Master of Hiromun was fainted: “The monk knows that he has done well in this world. Three years ago, poor monks were able to save him, and this time they were unable to return. I’m sorry.

I don’t know.

I went back to Buddha, looked at the painting.

He looked up at me, and he had a little swirling, pointing at the glucose on the table.

“I went to town to do some work and brought you food. I’m sorry.

I held my eyes, I bit it, and I shook my head, “It’s so acidic. I’m sorry.

And he raised his eyes, and made me cry, “Then I will buy them again. I’m sorry.

He went out and I held him from behind.

“Look, if I did something bad, would you be mad at me? I’m sorry.

He gently grabbed my hand.

“No, not ever again, Your Highness. You can do whatever you want. I’m sorry.

“Look, I’m a little sleepy, you can take me to sleep. I’m sorry.

And We stood in his arms: “Look, I have not given you a gift for the birthday. What do you want?” I’m sorry.

He moaned for a moment and kissed me on the forehead.

“Isn’t your little lord brought gifts? I’m sorry.

I’m pale.

He smiled softly, and his cold fingertips were on the belt of my charm.

“Your Highness, as long as you give me, I like it. I’m sorry.

And We touched it, and We saw tears, and We lied.

“It’s a living thing. I’ll put it on you, okay? May we live and live together, with one heart and with one heart, never forsake. I’m sorry.

He touched the spell, and his eyes were red, and his eyes were red, and he asked me in silence.

“Your Highness, will you? I’m sorry.

And We trembled with the hands of the spell, and were unable to speak.

He seems to know everything.

And he looked at me, and his eyes were calm: “Your Highness, do it.” I’m sorry.

My vision, awake at this moment, he held me and killed himself.

I came out of the Buddha’s house, and then I whispered, “Yes, I will…”

There was silence and no answer, except the bells on the ankles.

I don’t know.

Brother asked me, how was Buddha City?

It’s funny, but I can’t think of anything but a picture of a white monk, white skin and snow, a little red sand in his eyebrow, and a bunch of dark beads on his hands, like a cold white Buddha.

We hanged the painting in the bedroom and decided to follow the pattern of the man in the painting for the horse.

The people that can be found are always worse than the ones in the picture.

One of them looked at the forbidden book, and he dreamt that night, and the holy monk in the picture appeared in my red book, tearing down the beads, squeezing my ankles and staring at me: “Your Little Highness, the poor monk has broken his promise.” I’m sorry.

The hands of the white monks were cold as ice, and on mid-summer nights they cooled every inch of their dry skin.

When I woke up, my legs softened and the paintings on the wall looked at me.

The feeling in the dream is clear and deep.

I look red, and I look down, and there’s a round red mark on my arm, like a bead over my head, an evil door, and I rip it off, and I throw it away.

Not long after I met the painting in the library.

At dusk, the bell rings.

And in the shadows of the dark, We raised our feet and kissed the people.

It’s over. I’m in love with a painting.

Spring and autumn passed away, year after year, and I didn’t find the horse.

I’m old and I’m old and I’m dying to complain about the painting: “It’s your fault. I’m sorry.

A golden light.

The white monk in the picture appeared before his bed, and he leaned down and kissed my dry hand.

“Your Highness, I’m back. * He brushed my pale hair with his hands. *

Old age means oblivion, but at this moment, memories are turned, and my dumb voice murmurs: “Look. I’m sorry.

Young lover, he’s back, he’s so young, but I’m old and dying.

I didn’t even lift my hand to touch his strength, “unfair…” and my eyelashes were wet.

He took my hand and smiled at me: “Have no fear, I am with you.” I’m sorry.

“Why?”

“If there’s a will, there’s no end to it. I’m sorry.

The fog was cloudy, and he took me to old age, and took him to the Nine Springs bridge.

The end–

I don’t know.

Keep your eyes on the road.