Bamboo Shadow Reflecting Shutong

A sharp gust of wind seems to be blowing down from between the treetops, cold and decisive.Blowing on the face hurts like sandpaper.

Hey, this dream has learned to change seasons after so many years of polishing.

He continued to lie on the wooden pillow full of decaying smell, mocking the dream.

Of course, it was only in his head, and he himself could not move at all.

He nonchalantly counted and counted down.

36, 35, 34.

The dazzling and eye-catching dazzling white light did not arrive as expected, as if it was still far away, but he didn't notice it, and he was still counting.

Ten, nine, eight, seven...

He finally noticed something was wrong, there was no sound, the whirring sound was too unreal, it was intermittent and intermittent.

Three, two, one.

He was still the only one on this long, straight road without boundaries.

And so on until dawn.

He squinted his eyes, opened them with great difficulty, and thought with some displeasure: It would be better to have a good time crushing it, it's not going to go up or down, tsk, it's really uncomfortable.

However, he still breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling relaxed when he got up for the first time.

He looked out of the window, the sky was still not fully bright, but a circle of light slowly rose on the other side of the mountain, the hazy fog had dissipated before the sun appeared, and the layered clouds embellished the otherwise monotonous scene. boring sky.

This is not a good sign.