Chapter 77 Section 4

I got up, turned to the good old woman, and told her solemnly that the samovar was badly broken and could not be repaired immediately.The old lady wiped the sweat from her forehead and said: What should I do then?There are so many girls downstairs wanting to drink water... Passing the old godly woman, the girl behind her leaned back on the bench and laughed.I said: I'll go back and make spare parts, and come back tomorrow when I'm done.No reason to stay here now.I had to pick up the tool bag... The girl gave me a kiss like that of an orangutan—of course because of the stick in her mouth.This kiss can include both my left and right cheeks.While the old godmother was not paying attention, I made a face at her, walked out of the tower, and walked into the golden scenery outside, but I also left a strand of love behind me.Both me and Xue Song are still satisfied with what has happened.The only dissatisfaction is the Coptis chinensis root, no one wants to put such a bitter thing into the lover's mouth.If only there was a kind of wood that was sweet.I can use it as a mouthpiece to replace the Coptis root in the pagoda... To be honest, the samovar in the pagoda is not well set up, especially the charcoal feeder.That place should not be made into a stirrup shape, but should be made into a roller shape.Of course, if it is made into a drum shape, it will be more difficult to destroy.

I wandered in the golden landscape... In fact, I was in the Wanshou Temple, facing a white manuscript.As I said before, I always write novels on old yellowed manuscript paper, and now I change to this paper, which shows that I want to write something serious.In a coma, I had already written the topic: "A Study on the Construction of Spiritual Civilization in the Tang Dynasty".This topic really turns my stomach... Looking back at the golden tower, it is already a shadow in the golden afterglow.Many windows were lit with golden lights.At the beginning of this story, I went up to this tower, pretending to repair the tea stove, but actually came to meet the girl I love; in her mouth.Now I realize that I told the story wrong.In fact, someone else locked me up with heavy chains and stuffed the mouthpiece of pistachio wood into my mouth. I angrily grabbed the manuscript paper with only the title written on it, tore it to pieces, and then In the middle of the night, I followed the white dress back home; before I knew it, it was midnight──On the bed, she took my handle and asked: What, no emotions?I replied: hot weather, lack of water, and wilting... At the same time, I was thinking lazily: Can I use known historical materials to make up a "Test of the Tang Dynasty's Spiritual Civilization Construction".If not, we must fabricate historical materials.This thing is disgusting: I am a novelist, I can write novels, but I don't compile historical materials...

On the big pagoda outside Chang'an City, in the dark and hot tea room, huddled together with heavy shackles, I was also going to sleep.This story was very bad for me: the scorching air made my skin burn, and my mouth was so bitter that I couldn't sleep.The bench was too narrow for my entire bottom, and the chain around my neck was too tight for me to lie down on.The only hope is: Xue Song will come again.He'll loosen the chains on me--at least the ankles.After that, you can spread your legs and make love to him with the joy of your whole body and mind.There is still this interesting thing in life, so it is worth living──Thinking of this, I suddenly felt a sharp pain, as if the javelin shot by Xue Song many years later had now shot through my chest... No matter what Whether I like it or not, I am now the girl in the tower, that is, the old prostitute who was later shot to death by Xue Song in Fenghuang Village.I really loathe her lot--is this a human life?Unfortunately, everyone has their own destiny and you have no choice.If I could choose, I wouldn't want to live in the here and now.

The next morning, with inflamed eyes and the ubiquitous indentation of my chains, I was let down from the siding and returned to my room.The house was at the corner of the tower, and had windows on two sides, and a door leading to the verandah.There are silk screens nailed on the doors and windows.Even at noon, here is full of cool wind, let alone in the gray morning.There are rattan mats on the floor, and if I fell, I would fall asleep immediately, but now in the tower it's time to get up.Now I have no choice but to wash my face with cold water, and draw my eyebrows and eyes in front of the mirror in the future to cover up the traces of not sleeping all night, so as not to be laughed at.After that, put on yellow satin clothes and sit upright on the mat.On the case in front of me, there was the Four Treasures of the Study, the top sheet of a large stack of rice paper. On the snow-white piece, someone else's handwriting was impressively written with the title: "Construction of Spiritual Civilization in the Pre-Qin Dynasty".Obviously, this problem cannot be cured, but can only aggravate my drowsiness.Now I have several options: one is to forcefully write a few sentences.It's ridiculous that such a big man can't even write official articles.Another option is to support your head with your left hand, making a search, and scribble on the paper with your right hand.In fact, I was neither searching nor scribbling, but dozing off.Another option is to sleep when you lie down, no matter what happens.When they catch me, they can punish me however they want.But neither is my choice.I sat upright, as if I was writing a manuscript, my eyes were wary of the old godmother who was lingering outside the door, but one foot was under the mat, and my toes searched in the cracks of the board, and finally found a few hard things .I clipped one out and tucked it in my sleeve—it was a triangular file.In this way, I was again able to destroy the samovar.And then locked in the tea stove room.Then Xue Song will come to fix it.Then there is a chance to have sex with him.Sex matters everywhere, but not as much as in this tower.There is nothing else worth doing here.

Later, the girl from the tower left Chang'an City and followed Xue Song to Phoenix Village.In this place of green leaves and red soil, the years pass like flowing water, and the twilight of life arrives in a blink of an eye.She has always loved Xue Song, but Xue Song is as bitter as Pistachio chinensis—he is merciless and merciless everywhere... And, whether it is intentional or not, Xue Song shot her to death anyway.In this regard, I completely agree with Red Line: Xue Song is unforgivable.Seeing his fake mourning, Hongxian became murderous several times—if she wanted to kill him, she could treat Xue Song as a dead person, because it would be like a woman in white who wanted to kill me, and it was impossible to guard against.But in the end, Hongxian decided not to kill Xue Song, because Xue Song was a skilled craftsman—a hard-working person.As long as a person has this kind of benefit, he should not be killed.