He is not an eagle dog or a lackey, he does not pull a strain, and he does not cry three times with tears. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

The two dragons are fierce, his dragon is in the sky, he is a dragon on the earth, and he is entangled in the apricot blossom tree.

He is a tyrannosaurus, he treats her as a three-three stone, picks her up, ties her up, but it can't be peeled off, and he also plays ink lines, chisels on the lines, and strings the flat edges to make ramming.

Use her to make piles. Push her into the wall, her, hit her.

He put her between the bone horse and him to make sandwich biscuits, put her on the tip of a spear and danced into a flower, dipped her in a pool and drowned into a duck, and tied her to her neck and hung like a melon.

It's different, it's different, how can any mortal be like this, even if she opens her body and opens her heart, she pounces on her and is complete.

This is because they have forgotten their sense of proportion, and they have forgotten that there are still courtesy, righteousness, and shame in this world, and there are some insurmountable rules.

Another great power has said that the crazier it is, the better it will not last long, and the sooner it will perish.

August is not the season for apricot blossoms to bloom in the first place, and even in Zifu, it is affected by the Great Cycle.

Li Xinghua bloomed too brightly tonight, and after blooming, it was a long period of weakness, and she shrank from a delicate flower to only a page of petals.

The old dwarf is also yes, although his capital is very strong, but after all, he has just transferred his account, and there is not much liquidity that can be used.

And this woman face to face, it is not easy to fill her, just look at her dense cloud king as many as five hundred.

The old dwarf who bombarded indiscriminately was like a dead snake that had been hollowed out.

When the work was done, the upstairs of the small pigsty seemed very wide again, because they were wilting too much.

They lay like zombies, motionless.

The box of high-grade mooncakes that was finally brought safely by the old dwarf was kicked far away by the four.

If the petals and the dead snake are too literary, then from the perspective of the urine bucket, they are two lumps of flour that have been kneaded and deformed, piled there, waiting for the hair to ferment and expand again.

It's like they've been hollowed out, and it's not just the two of them.

Next to the urine bucket that was thrown downstairs and got up to watch the live broadcast, a woman stood silently as if she was sleepwalking.

She didn't miss this fierce battle until they were both defeated.

For her, they are not using the pigsty building as a bed, nor are they using the apricot grassland as a battlefield, but they are using knives and guns on her heart plate.

Each petal of Li Xinghua is a sharp blade, cutting her atrium, which is still fleshy.

Every shot of the old dwarf pierced a hole in her heart.

Her blood was so drained that she couldn't even hold back her tears.

When the heart is empty, what else is real?

It's a miracle that she's still standing and not falling.

She was desperate, utterly desperate.

She thought that after all her crying and screaming and seeking death, the old man would correct it a little bit, but she didn't think they would be so much worse.

This is no better than the time in Sanshou Bay, that time, it was sent to the door by her man.

But this time, it was near her home, right under her nose, there was no longer just stealing chickens and dogs, they were so presumptuous that they only needed a loudspeaker to broadcast to the whole village.

People say that dogs are gallant, they are more courageous than dogs, and dogs still crawl (this word, read ba in melancholy, more appropriate) does not go upstairs.

She wished that this scene was also a dream, a continuation of the nightmare of her daughter being drilled into her mouth by a green bamboo snake during the day.

One nightmare after another bombarded the short lady, with realistic dreams and dreams that she couldn't wake up, making her feel numb and her soul was not there, and only a shell remained.

She ignored the old man and the apricot sister-in-law, knowing neither anger nor sadness.

She was at a loss, and her two peach blossom eyes were empty.

If she is strong enough to rush up at this time, pull up the ringing pomp on the pigsty and beat the two indifferent animals, she may still be angry and come back for some games.

However, she is not that strong, and she is even less strong.

Just looking at the two of them just more vigorously than oil extraction, she knew that she couldn't stand a finger from them.

Mourning is greater than heart death, and heart death is not as good as heart emptiness.

The heart is empty, and there is an empty heart.

What's wrong with the world?

Why is this the case?

Who wrote it?

What else is there to be nostalgic for in such a world?

It's better to go, forget it, it's a hundred.

It doesn't matter if you become a ghost or a spirit, as long as you are no longer a person in this reality!

How can she adapt to such a reality, how can she adapt?

The dwarf lady stood there, and the harsh reality and harsh nightmare seemed to be sown by two huge magic hands, turning into a 'mummy' with a special texture.

This is the devil in the moon when the water is not warm, and since the mummy has arrived, the play written and directed by the devil will continue to be performed.

It was already three o'clock, and the bright moon was slightly westerly.

The moonlight is like the tear waterfall of the bright moon, and the bright moon cries silently!

Since ancient times, there have been many teardrops on moonlit nights, but apart from who unravels the sinking boat, who else can see that the bright moon is the one who cries the most?

Mingyue cried no matter how painful it was, her eyes were wide open.

The tears of the bright moon, from the bamboo forest from the woods, from the tile eyes on the roof of the pigsty, were mottled with moonlight tears everywhere.

Before the short lady stood on the clump of blood emperor bamboo, the moonlight tears on her body were particularly dense and fine.

The bamboo shadows under the moonlight sieve were like hundreds of pitch-black swords, constantly cutting at her body under the mercy of the night wind.

It was a rare good night, but these dark shadows hiding in the shadows were wreaking havoc on the atmosphere.

It is even more so that the black predator Wang Erye is even greater.

At this moment, in the ears of Li Xinghua, who was overindulgent, the partner's whisper sounded again: "Look at the old dwarf, I'm going to act!"

Qingfeng is too affectionate, and Qingfeng can't help but sigh softly.

The breeze kindly brushed the spots on the short lady's body, brushed and brushed back and forth, the breeze did not understand the bitterness, the breeze was endless, the infinite tenderness and unremitting pursuit, and the moonlight tears could not stop flowing.

Is it only darkness, boundless darkness, that is the only antidote to moonlight tears?

The short lady Tao Lifen fell into the boundless darkness in her heart. Is she still a dwarf lady?

Is it still possible to maintain a marriage contract that disgraces her?

I really can't figure out why I fell in love with such a man at that time.

The short lady is not short, she is also one meter six or seven, even in terms of height, she is worthy of the old dwarf, not to mention that she passed the door when he was at his poorest.

Over the years, she has worked hard to rake the fields, plant seedlings and grow rice, make rice and cook white rice, dark clouds and drizzle half of the sky, but the men who are fed are half occupied by irrelevant women.

It's really a long pavilion and a short scene that no one paints, who is looking for such a bitter place?

This is to raise fat and not pay off debts. (To be continued.) )