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It seems like everything is messed up there, as if everything is in there in the middle of it is unbelievable.

She just felt incredulous and incredible, but she still couldn't believe it,

Just when she felt unbelievable, everything became real again, she was real enough to stay on that land, she was real enough to come to the other side of the river. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

She had to spread her legs and legs so desperately and ran forward, and then, all of a sudden, a flat ground appeared in front of her,

And then, in desperation, she pounced again and again, and again and again with her head down,

smashed his head to a dazzle, and it's okay, the white fox's head is very hard, and it hasn't been broken much.

So, there she threw herself on the ground and fainted for a while, and then she got up again, and she sat up,

Then, she still didn't seem to react, and she didn't seem to be rebellious, she had some strange feelings,

But for a while, she couldn't say what strange and strange feelings there were, and then, she seemed to look back with some nostalgia.

There she sat quietly by the river, as if resting, where she had just fallen.

She was now on this side of the river, she was on the other side of the forest, and she looked at the river again.

The river was still so clear, as clear as the river she saw on the other side, after all, it was the same river water.

However, although it was the same river water, it was different for her, the spirit of the white fox that flew from the other side of the river.

What's the difference?

Although she is not very clear, but it seems to be certain, that is the feeling that belongs to her,

It was a different feeling from being on the other side of the river and being on the other side of the river, and she actually ran over.

There is still some joy and excitement mixed with some of this, and there is also a sense of pride.

With these very complex and cheerful emotions, the white fox's spirit is so with a kind of celebratory psychology,

He lowered his head again, and then, drinking the water from the river so carefully and slowly, it was still so clear, but it still seemed to be a little sweet.

At that moment, I tasted the sweetness of the river, and the white fox's spirit only felt as if he was about to cry there.

She didn't know why she was crying.

It's not a very happy cry, but it's another kind of pain.

She just suddenly looked at the meadow opposite, at the artemisia meadow that originally looked golden,

Looking at it again at this moment, it is still so yellow, but I don't know why, there is always a feeling of yellowness.

She didn't know what was going on.

It's like an illusion, like an illusion of her own, and she's just there to hold her own illusion and have no way to do it.

It's a painful and uncontrollable general. It is a struggle that belongs to life, and in the pain of that life's struggle,

She just felt a kind of pain that struggled endlessly.

It's just that on that struggling path, it's like such endless and endless pain.

She just managed to run over, and then what kind of challenges and difficulties did she have to face again?

She couldn't imagine and didn't particularly want to imagine, but she felt a kind of embarrassment there.

It's just that I feel a kind of helpless pain there, and on the path of that helpless pain,

She was just struggling there, just there there was nothing she could do, and she seemed to struggle like she had no choice.

It's a kind of helplessness on the road of struggle, and it seems to be exhaustion on the road of struggle,

However, there is something that seems to exist there, and there is something that cannot be escaped or escaped.

It is as if there is always an eternal path of struggle in that life and what is in it,

It's as if you can't give up in the midst of it, and you can't escape the pain and difficulties that you can't trust too much.

I just felt a kind of dead struggle there, and it seemed that I felt a kind of dead silence of pain and helplessness there.

She was just there quietly looking at the reflection in the river, and there was always something that she didn't want to be there.

It seems to be reluctant there, but no matter everything, how much reluctance and unwillingness there is, she needs to learn to be brave there.

She just had to tell herself, be brave, be brave. Work harder, try harder.

There are many, many things in life that cannot be struggled there, and it seems that there is no escape and escape.

She's just a seeker in this world and in the world, and she's just tirelessly seeking and seeking,

She was also on that path, on the path of her life itself, and she was so incapable of escaping,

She can't hide from her, she can't be afraid there, she just burns herself there,

Burning their own blood, they are also burning their own lives there, and they need to find and find the origin of life and their own ordinariness in that burning out.

It was a hesitation, a general hesitation that seemed to belong to life itself, a kind of wonder and forgetfulness,

It is a kind of forgetting and forgetting in the face of that life, as if it is about to forget oneself in the general hesitation and forgetfulness.

In that there is pain, and in that there is strife, and in that there is exhaustion,

But everything seemed to be in the vast and large blanks, almost crying there,

In the midst of the crying that was about to be painful and fragile, only in it felt a kind of weariness, and only in it a deep lack and want,

And in the midst of that lack and want, I felt a kind of difficulty and pain that belonged to life.

A kind of urging pain and helplessness in life.

It is a kind of exhaustion that belongs to life itself, and it seems that in that exhaustion, it seems that in it there is a kind of death,

It's as if there's going to be completely dead and completely dead, and there's something completely dead and dead.

Just forgetting in that death, only being timid in that death, and also seems to be a kind of helplessness in the midst of that death.

She just stared quietly at the water in front of her, and when she looked at the water as if it were still,

Originally, it was a streamlined stream of water that flowed there continuously, but it seemed that it suddenly became a kind of whirlpool.

It's as if the whirlpool that had been swirling there all along, has become a deep black whirlpool. She would always feel a kind of timidity, and some fear, in that exhaustion and vulnerability,

It seems that in that there is a kind of pain that is being mocked and played, and in that pain and exhaustion,

I feel a sense of helplessness and no way to do something, and in that there is no way, I will be there in pain,

And there they wept, as if they wept in the midst of a deep and helpless cry, only in the midst of it suddenly they sighed,

It's just that I sighed deeply, and then, whose figure is it, I have to turn around like that, and I have to turn away forever.