The quiet dark night was frightened, before I had time to wake up, I was attacked by the rainstorm, don't say I'm sorry, it doesn't matter if I can't learn, just go on, don't be afraid of splashing mud, wet whose clothes, white fog shrouded in stratus clouds, more like the devil who has been spelled, an inch of green inlaid with white will be, eye-catching, with the depth of going with the flow, exploring the way ahead, green turns to look back, the eyes are eclipsed, the journey out of sight, the vague end, the lingering red mansion, the lost choice, the big bead gradually becomes a small bead, the jade plate is still crisp and special, stubbornly stop in the wind and rain, no matter what, who wants to go, who stays, don't care too much, There are not so many people who have to be, just to be more at ease, to find an excuse for yourself to be dedicated, just like that, I'm afraid of disappointing a lot of sincerity, I'm afraid of missing a lot of affection, and I'm afraid that I don't like you enough and get lost.

So Julie stepped into the house, trying to pick up the book and read it, and she noticed that Henry's head was recessed in its entirety.

Someone must have attacked him and killed him without warning, and although the magic book is no longer useful, the records of the past are still there.

Yesterday there was a black dot on the right side where the traveler had entered the village, and today there was a black dot on the left side where the dead body had left the village.

Strangely enough, there were five red dots on the left and right today, and Julie recalled yesterday that no one had ever stepped out of the village gate.

But she was glad that perhaps everyone was not dead, except for the one who hated Henry, who was probably gone.

It was only because the spell had been broken that the page was wrong, so she packed her bags and planned to catch up with Harry.

Before the twilight sun had set, she had reached the half-mile border, and the page of the magic book was torn in her hand, perhaps only for keepsake.

At this time, she began to worry again, fearing that the curse had not been removed, touching the three marks on her forehead, and recalling the tragic escape of the past.

It's an excerpt from a short story, and I think it's very suitable for this book. Legend has it that human beings, like in the days of Noah, appeared pretentious.

In order to test mankind, God ordered the wise men of his time, including the blessed Leibovitz, to provoke an unprecedented war on the earth and invent weapons with the power of hellfire.

God gave the kings weapons through these wise men. The wise men told the king:

"Because your enemy has this weapon, we give it to you. They know that you also have this weapon, so they don't dare to attack rashly. Your Excellency, please understand that you are afraid of them, and they are afraid of you now, and no one dares to release this terrible thing that I have made. "But the kings ignored the wise man's counsel, and thought to himself: If I had attacked quickly, and by surprise, I would have killed him in his sleep, and no one would have fought me back.

The world is mine. This is the stupid idea of the kings, and then the flames will perish. I will never see you again, I will never hear you call my name again, as you used to do every morning.

I can no longer smell the fragrance of your clothes, and I can no longer share my joys and sorrows with you.

We can no longer confide in each other, and you can no longer sort out the mimosas in the vase in the living room, which I picked for you at the end of January.

You'll never wear a summer straw hat again, or the Kashmiri shawl you draped over your shoulders when the first cold snap hits in autumn.

You'll never light a fireplace again when the snow covers your garden in December. You left me before spring came, leaving me without warning.

When I learned on the platform that you were gone, I felt an h2