"I have already felt like a dead water, but I didn't expect the spring to shine through the spring. I am not afraid of the grass. I am afraid that the world will be cold and windy."

The ear is long and ah, the more the woman is clear and crisp, the jade-like words, but the ink that burns the brain hurts, and the frontal and meridian violent jumps.

"Noisy noisy! Where is the crying funer! Come here, give me this mess and go down the hill!"

After angering the sound, the ink burned was not right.

... Are you not already dead?

Hate and chill, pain in his mouth and coldness, his chest hurts, and his eyes burned openly.

Before the death, the wind was like a wind and snow. He found himself lying on the bed. It was not the bed of death. This bed was carved with dragons and painted with phoenix. The wood was full of heavy powder and the old quilt pink and purple. Embroidered with the scent of the water, it is the pillow that the woman will sleep.

"..."

The ink burns for a moment of stiffness.

He knows where this is.

This is a tile near the top of the dead.

The so-called tile is the brothel, which means "when it comes to whip, when it comes to disintegrate", so that the guests and the powder can be gathered together.

When I was young, there was a period of time when I was young. I spent more than ten days in the half-month sleeping in this brothel. However, this broth was set out when he was in his twenties, and later changed into a wine cellar. After I died, I actually appeared in a brothel that didn’t exist long ago. What happened?

It’s hard to make too many evils in my life, and I’ve been ruined by countless boys and girls.

The ink burned and thought, and turned over unconsciously.

He was on a sleeping face.

"..."

what's the situation! ! ! How is he lying next to him? ?

Still a man who is naked and naked!

The man's face is tender and tender, and the five senses are exquisite, and the jade is cute, and the male and female are indistinguishable.

There was no expression on the face, but the heart was choppy. I stared at the little white face that was immersed in my sleep and looked at it for a long time. I suddenly remembered it.

This is not a small puppet that I especially loved when I was young. It seems to be called Rong San?

Or just call Rong Jiu.

It’s not important, it’s not important. The important thing is that this little cockroaches later hurt the flowering willow disease. It has been dead for many years, and the bones are ruined. However, at this time he was alive, white and tender nest on the side of his bed, the quilt was exposed in the neck and shoulders, blue and purple, all traces of sputum.

The ink burned his face, picked up the quilt, and his eyes moved down.

"........."

This does not know whether the nine or three, let him count the nine, Rong Jiu Xiaomei is covered with whip marks, a sheep's fat white jade like the pink thighs have been finely, and several red ropes.

The ink burned and touched the chin and sighed secretly: good taste.

瞧瞧 This exquisite rope art, this skillful technique, this familiar picture.

This is not his mother's own? ? ! !

He is a man of immortality and has a taste of the rebirth. At this moment, he couldn't help but start to doubt that he seemed to be living back.

In order to further verify his own ideas, the ink burned to find a bronze mirror. The bronze mirror is very worn, but in the dim light, it is still blurred to see his own appearance.

When the ink burned to death, he was thirty-two years old. It was a year of standing, but at that moment, the face of the buddy in the mirror looked rather childish, and the handsome eyebrows showed a young man’s unique flying cockroaches. Fifteen or six years old.

There are no other people in this bedroom. So a generation of tyrants in the real world, the bully in the middle, the emperor of the human world, the lord of death and death, stepped on the immortal ink after burning for a long time, honestly expressed his inner feelings.

"Fuck..."

This exercise, I will wake up the sleeping cockroach.

The beautiful man sat up lazily, and the thin brocade on his body was slid down the shoulders, revealing a large, dazzling white body. He was wrapped in soft long hair and picked up a pair of peach eyes with drowsiness. Dyed red, yawned.

"Oh... Mo Gongzi, you wake up very early today."

There is no suffocation in the ink, and the time has gone backwards for more than ten years. He really likes the beautiful beauty of Rong Jiu, but nowadays, the 32-year-old stepping fairy, how to see how he suspected that his brain was When you scream, you will feel that this man looks good.

"Is it not a good night last night, a nightmare?"

This seat is dead, you say it is not a nightmare.

Rong Jiu saw that he had been not talking, but he was still in a bad mood, so he got up and got out of bed, squatting in front of the window, and smashing the ink from behind.

"Ink son, you reason about me, how do you marry, don't you?"

The ink burned him like this, his face was green, and he couldn’t wait to tear the little goblin away from his back. He shook his seventeen eight big ear scrapers on his blown face, but he still resisted. It is.

He still had a dizzy, not clear about the situation.

After all, if you are really born again, then yesterday, and Rong Rongji smashed the phoenix, and when he woke up, he swollen his face and his face was swollen. This kind of behavior is no different from suffering from mental dysentery. It is not appropriate.

The ink burned out the emotions and looked like inadvertently: "What day is it today?"

Rong Jiuyi, immediately smiled: "May four in May."

"Bing Shennian?"

"That was last year. This year is Ding Yinian. It’s really a good thing for the nobles to go back and go back."

Ding Haonian...

The ink burned in the dark, and the brain turned quickly.

Ding Yinian, who is fifteen years old, has just been recognized as a lost scorpion for many years. He has been a phoenix from a man who can be bullied.

So, is it true that you are born again?

Still, a big dream after death...

Rong Ji smiled and said: "Mu Gongzi, I am jealous that you are hungry, and you can't remember the days. You sit for a while, I go to the kitchen, give you some food, how about the spinner?"

The ink burned just now, and he still doesn't know how to deal with it. However, it is always wrong to follow the previous roads. So he recalled his own romantic appearance, endured nausea, and smiled on the nine legs.

"It’s very good, add another bowl of porridge, come back and feed me."

Rong Jiu put on his clothes, and soon he came back with a wooden tray with a bowl of pumpkin porridge, two oil swirling cakes, and a dish.

The ink burned just a little hungry, and was preparing to grab the cake to eat. Rong Ji suddenly opened his hand and said with amazement: "I will feed the son to enjoy."

"..."

Rong Ji picked up a piece of cake and sat on the ink-burning leg. He was wearing a thin robe, and nothing was worn underneath. The thin thighs and the thighs were separated, and the skin burned with the skin, and they couldn’t help but squat. And Yu.

The ink burned and stared at Rong Ji’s face for a while.

Rong Ji also said that he was so happy, he said: "You always do what I am doing? The food is cold."

The ink burned silently for a moment, remembering the good things that the old man had to carry on his own, and the corner of his mouth slowly opened a sweet silk, and the relatives smiled incomparably.

Disgusting things, he stepped on Xianjun to do more, as long as he is willing, and then he will do it with disgusting feelings. At this moment, it is just a play, and the children can't help him.

The ink burned comfortably on the chair and smiled. "Sit up."

"I don't... don't sit down."

"You know what I am talking about is sitting."

Rong Ji’s face was red and he took a sip: “So urgent, the son doesn’t wait until he finishes... Ah!”

When the words were not finished, they were forced to pick up by the burning of the ink. They moved forward and pressed again. With a handful of shakes, the porridge bowl knocked over to the ground, and he said in a panic: "Mu Gongzi, this bowl..."

"Don't worry."

"Then, then you should eat something first... um... ah..."

"Is this not eating?" The ink burned his waist, and the dark eyes flashed brightly, and the scorpion reflected the beautiful face of the neck.

In the last life, I was especially willing to kiss the blushing lips when I was lingering. After all, this boy is beautiful, and he is very clever. If he wants to say that he is tempted, he has to say that he has no emotion at all. It is a fake.

However, knowing that Rong Ji’s mouth is carrying something on his back, the ink burns that this mouth is not smelling, and there is no interest in kissing.

The 32-year-old ink burns and the 15-year-old ink burns are different in many places.

For example, at the age of fifteen, he still knows gentleness when he is in love, and at the age of thirty-two, there is only violence.

Afterwards, he looked at himself as he was dying, and Rong Ji, who had passed out of the past, had a pair of slanting waves, and he squinted slightly, and he took some sweet smiles. He smiled very well, and the twilight was very dark and deep. At some angles, he would smudge a layer of eccentric dark purple. At this moment, he smiled and glared at the hair of Rong Jiu, and put the comatose on the couch, picking up a piece of broken porcelain from the ground and hanging it on the face of Rong Jiu.

He has always reported, and it is the same now.

Thinking of how he used to take care of Rongjiu’s business in his previous life, and even wanted to give him a redemption, and Rongjiu was able to design himself with others. He couldn’t help but smile and bend his eyes, sticking sharp ceramic fragments. In the edge of Rong Jiu.

This person is doing a flesh-and-blood business. Without this face, nothing is gone.

This kitsch man will be like a dog on the street, crawling on the ground, being smashed by boots, being crushed and being thrown away, oh... I imagined it to make him happy. It’s just that the disgustingness of this person has just disappeared.

The smile is more and more cute.

With a handful of force, the blood of the blush oozes a trace.

The faint person seemed to feel the pain, the hoarse voice, and a low snoring, and the tears on the eyelashes seemed to be pitiful.

The burning hand suddenly stopped.

He remembered an old man.

"........."

Then he suddenly realized what he was doing now. After a few seconds, I finally slowly lowered my hand.

It’s a habit to do evil. He has forgotten that he has been born again.

Now, all the things have not happened yet, and the big mistakes have not yet been formed. That person... is still not dead. Why should he have to cruelly and ruthlessly go through the old road, he obviously can come back again.

He sat down, rested on the edge of the bed, and casually played the broken pieces in his hand. Suddenly I saw a greasy cake on the table, so I took it over, opened the oil paper, bite it with a big mouth, eat the mouthful of slag, and the lips are shiny.

This cake is a special feature of this tile. It is not too delicious. It is like chewing wax compared to the delicious taste that he has tasted later. But after the tile has fallen, the ink has never been eaten. The oil turns the cake. At this moment, the familiar taste of the cake, back to the tip of the tongue, is rolling back.

Every time you burn a mouthful of ink, you feel that the unreality of rebirth is one less point.

After the whole piece of cake was eaten, he finally slowly recovered from the original confusion.

He is really born again.

All the evils in his life, all things that cannot be turned back, have not yet begun.

Did not kill the aunt and aunt, did not slaughter seventy-two cities, did not bully the ancestors, did not get married, no...

No one is dead yet.

He licked his mouth and licked his white teeth. He could feel the tiny joy in the chest expanding rapidly, becoming a kind of turbulent fanaticism and excitement. When he was alive, he was involved in the three major bans. He is proficient in the other two bans. Only the last one is "rebirth". Even if he is extremely intelligent, he must not be able to door.

I couldn’t think of anything that I couldn’t ask for during my lifetime. It turned out to be true after death.

All kinds of unfortunate, mourning, and loneliness in front of them, all of them are still in the chest, and the scene of death and death is still in full swing.

At that time, he really didn't want to live. Everyone said that he was a lord, and he was rebellious. In the end, he also felt that he was walking dead, boring, and lonely.

But I don't know where it went wrong. People like him who are heinous, after self-satisfaction, can get a chance to come back again.

Why did he want to ruin the face of Rong Jiu in order to report a little bit of personal enmity?

Rong Jiu is the most greedy and love money. This is the time to sell meat, and then go with some money, and disciplining it on a small scale. Human life, he does not want to carry it for the time being.

"You are cheap, Rong Jiu."

The ink burned and said with a smile, the fingertips force, throwing the tiles out of the window.

Then, he emptied all the soft jewels of Rongjiu and collected them in his own pockets. This was a good thing, and he slowly packed himself up and Shishiran left the tile.

Uncle Aunt, cousin Xue Meng, Master, and...

When I think of that person, the burning eyes are soft and gentle.

Teacher, I am looking for you.

The author has something to say: this article cp: ink burning x division

There are white lotus brothers, do not stand the wrong team ~~