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The sky was overcast, and there was water dripping in the cave, and when it fell on the torches on the cave wall, there was a loud sound.

The candle shook in the palm of my hand, and the light and shadow licked the girl's sleeping face. Her face was white and thin, like a child who had lost her warmth, curled up slightly in the corner, her thick curly eyelashes fluttering - what kind of blue sky and white clouds would she have in this hellish life?

One day, I peeked into her face through the shadow of the flower, as white as jade, and as bright as the sun. Like a delicate piece of porcelain.

Wouldn't it be pleasant to cut off the wings of a swallow and imprison it in its own cage? Is it comfortable to trap a piece of daylight in a secret room where you can't see your fingers?

Candle oil drips in the palm of your hand, hot and soft. I want to touch her cheek and watch her bright eyes open, what kind of eyes will she look at me?

I think she hates and hates me, and we have completely opposite lives and beliefs.

But at the moment, I have the urge.

I'd light thousands of torches, make the cave as bright as day, and tear her clothes in a moment of her horror—well, she'd cry and struggle. Holding her down, her skin was smooth and intoxicating, like fine silk. Her trembling was like a wounded little beast, so pitiful and lovely.

Listen, she will scold me hoarsely: beast, madman, not human.

I should tell her what a madman is like. The madman would pinch her chin so she couldn't breathe, then suck her cherry lips and bite her tongue off. The madman would rub her body to his heart's content, pinching the lovely breasts on her chest into various shapes, and ravaging the two innocent reds.

Will fold her over and fold her as she shiveres, forcing her wonderful body to strike all sorts of shameless* poses. He would do horrible acts between her wide-open legs, making her damp and crying.

The sound of the body beating from slow to urgent, the movement from light to heavy, slowly and then softly. Torture her repeatedly like this, making her a woman who feels helpless for Yu Wang. The slightest force can make the tip of her tongue dance on the flames, and I will control her completely.

I deliberately couldn't hear her crying, poor pleading.

I want to play with her, from the supreme pleasure to the intense pain, separated by a line. No matter which one I give, she will never forget me.

I'll never be forgotten again.

She only stares into the bright eyes, there will always be a corner left for me, no matter how the years pass, washing people's hearts over and over again, there will definitely be a dark place in her heart, that is the root I have planted for her.

- I really want to do that.

The candle oil dripped in my palm, the flame jumped slightly, her eyelashes moved, and I thought, she was going to wake up.

Silently extinguished the candle and walked out of the cave.

The dark clouds cracked in all directions, and the golden sunlight sprinkled down through the cracks without hesitation. At this moment, I was thinking that there must not be me in the dream she had just had. Just like darkness and light, they will never intersect.

The faint rays of sunlight spread over the hills, on the dark hair of the young men, on the deep wrinkles of the old fellows, on the green leaves—at some times, I even wish they were scattered on my shoulders, to illuminate the insatiable and fierce dragon in the abyss of my heart.

It's just that it's too weak to save, only to shine.

That's the beauty I never had.

I held the fragile soul fire in the palm of my hand, and the beating of her veins was the pulse of her life. Looking back, her vivid face turned to dead ashes, like a firefly that had lost its light, clinging to the edge of the night and flying away.

The flame of the soul was always worn by my side, and then someone asked me: What is it?

I thought about it for a long time, and when I looked out of the dark cavern, it was sunny outside.

That's the best woman in the world, I said.