Chapter 11 eleven

Wu Sheng sat cross-legged on the ground, he felt that everything was the same as the first time he sat here, only the fake snake hanging upside down on the mosquito net was gone, and the strong afternoon sunlight covered his wife's bedroom like a waterfall.She was wearing a rough-textured cotton and linen dress and leaned against the rattan reclining chair, her bloated body filling every gap in the chair.Her eyelids were drooping, and the circles around her eyes were black and puffy.The only bright red and delicate thick lips were pouted forward, as if they were about to drip greasy blood fat.

Wu Sheng felt that he had been sitting for a long time, the female poet stood up and walked behind the light-colored screen without saying a word.He hesitated for a moment, then stood up and turned to the other side of the screen.But the poetess had already walked back to the center of the bedroom from the other side of the screen.On a long nail on the screen, hung the poetess' cotton and linen skirt. Behind the screen is not as wide as Wu Sheng imagined, but just a narrow space between the screen and a window.Wu Sheng looked out the window, and his eyes looked beyond the flowers, plants and shrubs in the garden, the collapsed courtyard wall and the overgrown reeds, and saw the vast lake water steaming with white flames under the sun.At the far end of the horizon, a shadowy ridge stretched evenly like a smooth bow, and at its apex suddenly collapsed, sinking deep into a dark pit.

When Wu Sheng came out from behind the screen, the female poet was stepping up the steps of the huge bed.She changed into a wide red dress that dragged the floor, and her unrestrained body was rippling back and forth in the thin skirt.