Another universe.

The robber died.

Since then, there have been two more people in the team for the wedding trip.

Their left foot stepped into ankle-deep mud, and their right foot pulled out and stepped through a piece of mud, thus navigating the mud-filled avenue. Towards their different goals.

For the maid, it's just a matter of returning to where she has always lived. As for the difference between serving the young lady who has a husband and before, she didn't think much about it.

For an honest middle-aged man, after arriving at her house, he will be accompanied by beauty every day, which is incomparable to heaven. He would never let other men steal his beauty. He sharpened four more sticks, one each for his wife and maid, and for the two young men and women.

So he finally felt better.

Walked for about a short time. A tree appeared in their eyes. There are all kinds of melons and fruits growing on it.

"It's good for pregnant women, come and eat this. "Beneath the crystal clear appearance, the unknown melon fruit with the shape of papaya is cut and grows on the tree. There are only four petals. They were all stuffed by maids and honest middle-aged men to his wife.

In addition, the other melons and fruits on the tree are all cold: like bitter melons and pimples, like jujubes and shriveled up, long sticks and dull......

The young woman standing on the side suddenly felt a little unhappy in her heart, and the young man looked at her beautiful face and his heart moved. Stretching out his hand, he smiled softly and said, "Eat." "But it's a crystal clear melon and fruit. She finally smiled and smiled.

The road began to be taken away again.

This time, it was a group of ruffians in leather armor and spears in their hands. There were about seven of them.

"Woman!"

has filled their eyes. This tendency made them move their feet and scream and pounce.

The honest middle-aged man had already had bloody eyes, and rushed forward even more angrily and bravely.

Young men and women protect the maids and young ladies as they retreat and fight. The angry middle-aged man seemed to be possessed by a god, and he was extremely brave with a sharpened wooden stick, and five well-equipped soldiers were actually beaten by him and fell down the avenue, and he didn't know whether he was alive or dead.

I don't want to know the fate of the other two ruffians.

The road was then walked.

Walked for a long time. A huge playground appeared at the foot.

They also had an extra pair of shoes at their feet: shaped like modern high heels, but with nearly ten centimeters at the tiptoe. At the heel of the shoe is a long dark green cylinder, and the front foot is also a dark green long cylinder, about four or five centimeters in size.

In this way, they wore a strange pair of shoes, as if they were hanging a centimeter or two in the air, and sped through the runway made of two iron bars.

Many children and adults come and go to laugh in the runway.

The young man laughed in a mess. At the end of the runway, there is a 'running shoes' store.

Another universe.

"I'm a duck. More than 300 ducks survived around sunrise. ”

"Now my claws are tied with two soft hemp ropes, and I can't move freely in space. My wings were also wrapped around a ball of twine. I lay on my side on the white, cold floor. I looked at my handsome young human with wide eyes wide and uneasy eyes. ”

The handsome young man is talking about me. I woke up and went straight to the duck. I imagined me like a duck sent by my uncle and muttered to myself.

The restlessness, the fear, and the hunger were felt in its eyes. Just now, my parents and sister finished dinner with laughter. And it will never eat again. I will never see the duck brothers and sisters who have lived together all my life.

The rest of its short life could only be spent in fear, restlessness, and hunger.

Should I let it go secretly? I released a chicken like this many years ago, and I kept an eye on it at the time, but in the end it was caught and eaten. And where can it go? It can't escape the fate of being eaten.

Maybe death is a relief for it. I pulled my lips slightly, laughing self-deprecatingly.

"Let me tell you a story. I said to the wandering duck. It croaked, struggled with its paws a few times, and its little frightened eyes seemed to fade a little by my kindness.

I sighed and stopped tapping my fingers on the keyboard, rubbing my sour eyes from staring at the computer screen for so long.

Do I really want to start a novel by telling a story to a duck that is about to be eaten in its stomach?

In doing so, it is easy for the reader to think that the person who tells the story has the word "neurosis" on his head. And I, the author, probably can't escape this fate. Although I am useless, I always have to make money by arranging words, that is, writing stories.

I sighed again, rubbed my nose, and took three sips of pulsations. I started thinking back to the dream I had just had.

A patch of green grass grows on a hillside. On the hillside sat an old man with a silver beard. In front of the old man stood a boy who had lived about seven or eight years.

The boy's expression was blank. The old man hung his head. The green grassland suddenly burst with blood. The color of blood continued to spread, and after a few moments of time jumping, the color of blood completely killed Green.

A patch of blood-colored grass grew on a hillside. On the hillside sat an old man and boy with blank expressions.

Time skipped a few more times. A crow croaked four times and flew over the old man and the boy's heads, and then at the sixth croak, the crow was gone from my dream forever.

The old man opened his eyes and raised his head at the moment when the crow said goodbye to my dream. The boy's expression was no longer blank.

"Deming. The story I'm going to tell you next should be well kept in your memory. When you are in pain, you often open it up and think about it. The silver-haired old man sat cross-legged on the blood grass and said calmly to the boy standing in front of him.

When the boy heard the story, his expression jumped a little excited. Joy and anticipation crawled all over his face, and the boy shook his grandfather's arm: "Tell it! Grandpa, tell it! I want to listen to the story again! Listen to the story! Hahahaha......"

The story told by the old man goes like this.

When I was a sparrow, I was freely chased by human bows. But I was so good that I ended up happily living in a birdcage made just for me. It was really a happy time. I don't have to worry about eating every day, I don't have to worry about the cold, and I don't have to worry about snakes suddenly eating me when I sleep.

But what makes me happiest is actually her - as a woman in my last life, she is actually my master.

I heard the men of her life call her Faith. As a sparrow, I didn't have the ability to make her, as a human at that time, fall in love with me.

As a sparrow, I can only give her bugs.

In fact, I am her cage plaything, and I can't even give her worms.

This happiness didn't last long before I was choked by pain.

She spoke to me all the time. Led me through long corridors, labyrinths of corridors. She said she missed her mother, her father, and her four-year-old brother.

In the middle of the castle, there are three gardens and a stream that runs through the castle. The first thing she did every day was to walk me down the long hallway, the three gardens and the creek. Then she would stand on top of the castle walls and look out at the endless black earth around her.