I'm going to give it a funeral

The young man in white stumbled in the snow, he couldn't hear it, and reflected on his rebellion to the sky in the lonely urging of the night.

Sorry, I was wrong......

Give her back the light she deserves;

Count me in begging you.

He cried as if he had lost something, but what did the world have to do with him?

Yu Ling's peace of mind is so heavy, who can afford it?

yes, what is he like?

Who can give a response?

He let his last attachment back into the mountain forest, and it roared with rage against the pale world:

What have you lost!

What have you lost?

It's raining heavily, and the world is really beautiful.

Can't see clearly......

This snow threw Yu Ling's pride into the sea.

Please, I'm engaged in pure love, how can I lose?

I didn't have any plans for any gifts.

Yes......

I just took you to suppress my death, and integrated the surging intent, purely because of your incomparable beauty......

How shall I speak, in this never-ending rain, how many ribs should I use to sculpt love for you with the whale that grows out of the mud?

Or rather, I had lost myself in madness, and the boy I had promised jumped out of that moon's robe......

I use my gaze to thin your back at the moment, moonlight, I will follow you like that?

It's a long way, how can I show you this way?

The snow was mixed with the torrential rain, and he froze himself to death, and in a trance, the fourteen-year-old boy held an umbrella, laughing equally wantonly, and laughing equally at his own sad fate.

"Eat a fruit, I've been waiting for you at the cemetery for a long time. I told you that this world is like a bird, and no kind of wings can fly.

"Hahahaha! You're here after all, so why do you want to go out? I treat you so well, why don't you leave some for me, and always want to bow down for your next life? ”

He was very carefree, never crying, but he allowed the moon robe to stay:

"Tired? I see you're choking, you can't say a word, where did the pain start?

"It's a dream-like memory, I've almost forgotten it. You say, do I know you more, or do you know me more?

"Hahahaha! A gift to the world, a funeral! Yes! - Am I good? Isn't it romantic?

"I'm telling you, oh, here's my coffin, boxy—"

Chatter, noisy.

Yu Ling was so tired, his skeleton was taken away, and in the upside-down hanging sea, this pool of rotten flesh was left, like planting a tree, left at the bottom of the pit, he was like a deaf and dumb person, and now, he has lost the sign language that he relies on for survival.

I'm really tired......

"You're asleep."

The young man was handsome, and a kind serenity appeared on his face.

"You, you always want the best, and you're at a loss."

The boy looked at the blue sky next to his bamboo: "I know, the sky is shaped by me. Ninety-nine percent of the gases come from living things. If it weren't for my persistence, without our hundreds of millions of years of hard work, how could there be such a magnificent planet?

"I know all of them, so I know that my tragedy is doomed. It's not me who is wrong, it's because there are no predecessors, no them, so even if I put my feet up, even if I grow wings, even if I grow an upside-down hanging sea, I can't do without this predicament.

"It's not me who is wrong, I'm a hero......

"They're too. We're just walking in the dark.

"Unfortunately, there is no record......

"Just let me write it.

"Once upon a time, the parrot feather rode a tall horse, and he chased the most beautiful star in the universe in the grassland, and later ——!

"Very important!

"He's here, that young man is peerless!

"I have never seen a more enthusiastic and heroic teenager than him!

"He said his name was Deng Xingyu......"

The history of Fang Mo is the wind, and the wind is the narrator, and they run wild in the wilderness with their unique stories!

It's so romantic!

I want to go back!

I want to go back to the dry desert!

Let me die, I belong there.

The fourteen-year-old boy held the cowhide diary tightly in his arms, two lines of blood and tears flowed down, his vision blurred, and the scarlet blood had no place in this strange world!

How can the blood of our desert boy be shed here!

The boy stood up, and he looked at the seventeen-year-old Yu Ling, at the puddle of rotten meat.

"I hate to say it, but you've disappointed me. I didn't expect that three years later, I would still regress. Another two years, the regression has been even worse. ”

He turned his gaze, Xinghe, silent, because it wanted to say a lot, he understood, and he clutched his diary tightly.

Don't worry, I'm not going to let that change a word about you.

I will accompany you to die, take you to the depths of the River Styx, tell Your Highness how proud that young man is, I will tell her the story of Fang Mo, and tell her the magnificent young man.

Lose.

He is filial piety, righteousness, courtesy, and shame.

He loses everything, so he learns to be quiet, because he really hates this damn world, he can't say a word of praise, but nothing else, he can only maintain the way he is, and maintain his damn pride in the cruelest way to himself.

Die!

I'm not afraid of that kind of thing.

The seventeen-year-old boy turned into a puddle of water and flowed into the endless wilderness, while he continued to face his own thorns.

[He still did not surrender.] 】

[Truman's young men are as unruly as him. 】

[At that time, I heard that your teeth are all laughing out.] 】

[Yes, just like today's Pure Land, as far as the eye can see, it is the confident figure of our children. 】

No, there is no need to say more, there is such a remnant of a teenager left in the world today, quiet and suspicious, but with a heart that will never be eroded.

He won.

There is no need to play it any further, so far, the boy born in the tree has used his invulnerability to carry it until only withering is left in the future.

The bell rings, Ling'er thought.

Shrewd.

The wind of the galaxy blew to the grassland, and there was no need to say more, there was a voice on the trek, and his name was Mo.

For some reason, I suddenly remembered you.

The yellow sand formed a painting in mid-air, painted with dense medals, and He was also a part of it.

That was a long time ago, so long that Fang Mo's wind was intermittent and fragmented, all the legends, all the legends of the losers, after the fact, were only not worth mentioning.

was dissolved.

The young man walked in the endless wilderness in the wind, there was a star, it had no body, it was just a star, it hung high on the object called "starry sky", it was just a concept, just like Mo walking alone in this barren hill, like a parrot holding his diary next to the bamboo.

One place missing......

He walked by the sea, through a world where the sun and the moon did not distinguish between the sun and the moon, and where countless alleys were juxtaposed, listening to the message of the kite:

Pieces of peach blossoms, this trip, no return date.