Hypnotic assassination

"I dreamt of a moon, very round, very big, no, it should be said extremely big, so big it seemed right in front of me. In the bright, pale yellow moon, the shadows of the surrounding mountains were incredibly clear, as if a rabbit could jump out at any moment!" "Is it because there have been so many media reports about the supermoon lately, that your subconscious is making your dreams feel real?"...

"I dreamt again last night. This time, under that huge moon was a pool of water. The moonlight seemed to penetrate the water; it was very cold, but not frozen, and there was a misty vapor on the surface..."... "This time I smelled a very faint, refreshing fragrance, yes, the scent of plum blossoms, mingled with the vapor, swirling and flowing."...

"There was a pale red patch in the water, like a faint bloodstain spreading. Let me think... the fabric was a bit like gauze, very thin and sheer. Strangely, the water seemed to offer no resistance; that red gauze danced in the water like it was in the wind."...

"Menglan, this is so real, so real, it really doesn't feel like a dream. Last night, I actually looked up following that light red hue and saw an oil-paper umbrella. The bright red umbrella surface seemed to come alive, a living red, wow! There was also a small golden lotus flower on it, still in bud. Holding the umbrella handle was a girl's hand. I've never seen such a beautiful hand before, so soft and boneless, like a jade-carved scallion." Duan Yue said, then suddenly glanced at Menglan somewhat awkwardly. Saying this to the woman he was pursuing seemed inappropriate.

Menglan, however, didn't seem to notice. She smiled faintly, a gentle, watery smile. "Or perhaps you've recently hit a writing roadblock. You know, people under constant pressure can dream about suggestive content. This kind of trouble can become a knot in your heart. There's an old saying, 'What you think about during the day, you dream about during the day.'" Duan Yue lowered his head and thought carefully. Was it really because he had written too many strange and eerie things that his subconscious was weaving dreams?

Duan Yue was a writer, or more accurately, an online writer. He sat in front of his computer, typing away, writing words that either pleased others or pleased himself, though he pleased himself more often. He relished the feeling of words flowing from his fingertips, like God himself. Illusion rose from between his fingers, orderly and perfectly balanced, while reality transformed into a mirage in his palm, returning to shadow. Truth and falsehood intertwined in the disarray of time and space, captivating those who appreciated his words with infatuation, resentment, greed, anger, fear, and fascination.

"Shattering the starry sky! Severing the river moon!" This man was arrogant and self-assured, disdaining to change his name, thus adopting the pen name Duan Yue, a homophone of his real name.

Meng Lan lit a dark red incense stick in a weathered bronze cauldron. The wisps of incense slowly diffused, soon filling the room with the sweet scent of dreams. Duan Yue unconsciously squinted his eyes, relaxing and sprawling in the rocking chair.

"Take a nap, relax, like the relaxation you felt in your mother's womb!" Meng Lan's voice gradually faded.

Meng Lan is a psychologist, or more precisely, a branch of psychologists—a counselor. Modern life is too fast-paced and stressful, often leading to various psychological problems and negative emotions. Meng Lan's job is to listen and then help them let go.

When Duan Yue woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. He both loved and hated how well he slept at Meng Lan's place. Undeniably, a high-quality afternoon nap was pure bliss for a night owl, but this woman was the object of his desire. The fact that she could sleep so carefree in front of him made him seethe with resentment. He glared at his crotch, forced to distract himself from his fantasies.

"This fragrance smells so good, it makes you feel relaxed even in your bones. Can you tell me where I can buy it?" "At the very back of the antique street, there's a small shop called 'True Water Without Fragrance.' There aren't many old-fashioned perfumers left these days, and those who use genuine ingredients are even rarer." The next morning, after Duan Yue finished writing two chapters of his serialized novel, he realized it was already dawn. However, due to the bad weather, the sky was somewhat overcast, with the southern sky so low it seemed to press down on the newly built high-rises.

Duan Yue lit a cigarette and found he was still very energetic, so he abandoned the idea of sleeping and drove to the antique street.

"True Water Without Fragrance," Duan Yue walked out, holding a small packet of "Sweet Dreams" perfume, feeling a pang of regret. A week's worth of work gone to waste!

Was it worth it to stay up all night for four weeks of good sleep? That's a good question.

Fortunately, this question didn't bother Duan Yue for long, because as he turned a corner at a shop, he suddenly spotted a gold coin. He recognized the coin; it was a commemorative coin issued in a small-scale operation by a warlord during the Republic of China era.

Duan Yue, a collector at heart, excitedly entered the shop, only to discover its eclectic mix of goods: trinkets, pendants, even phonograph matchboxes were readily available. A few paintings were scattered haphazardly in a corner of the lobby.

The shop owner was a remarkable fellow, with a gleaming bald head and exceptional intelligence. He wore a white undershirt and carried a purple clay teapot; the aroma of the tea suggested a large bowl of tea, enough to fill one's stomach. The incredibly clever owner and Duan Yue engaged in lively banter, discussing everything from the Three Kingdoms period to the Second Revolution, from whether Lin Daiyu truly died of tuberculosis to whether Jin Yuelin and Lin Huiyin actually lived together but not in separate rooms. Finally, the conversation settled on the gold coin; the owner refused to budge an inch, much to Duan Yue's frustration after his long discussion, though he ultimately paid.

As he was leaving, the gloomy sky finally began to rain. Frustrated, Duan Yue didn't want to argue with the incredibly clever shop owner any longer, so he wandered around the shop, eventually ending up in a corner piled high with calligraphy and paintings.

When he saw the painting, he was utterly horrified; his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The light red in his dream was actually the hem of a skirt; the elegant beauty's back view alone was enough to make one's mouth water, the long skirt trailing in the water along the pier… Duan Yue slammed his eyes shut, then opened them to find the painting still there—it wasn't a hallucination.

His face ashen, he paid the bill and, with the painting in hand, fled into the rain. Only when he was in the car did Duan Yue finally calm down. Looking at the painting on the passenger seat, and reflecting on the incredibly vivid dream, he thought, "This…this is too bizarre. Meng Lan…yes, I have to find Meng Lan, I have to tell her."

"Miss Meng, he bought that painting. Ah, yes, oh dear, you're too kind. I really don't deserve it. If it weren't for you back then, my son... Haha, this is because you think highly of Old Zhao. No problem. Next time, if you have anything to say, just say the word, and I guarantee I'll handle it perfectly for you." The incredibly clever Boss Zhao smiled so broadly his eyes disappeared. He happily hung up the phone. Who's afraid of being bitten when you have so much money?

Crack! A thunderclap exploded in the sky, followed by a bolt of lightning that seemed to pierce the void, turning the gray-yellow sky eerily bright. Duan Yue slammed on the gas pedal and sped towards Zhonghua North Road. The torrential rain caught the windshield wipers off guard. As he was exiting the overpass, a red Mazda suddenly sped in from the entrance. Just as they were about to collide, Duan Yue swerved sharply to the left. With a bang, the car crashed into the guardrail, followed by the screeching sound of metal scraping against the concrete structure. A gale swept rain into the broken car windows, then swirled scarlet water down, a vibrant splash.

How beautiful! As far as the eye can see, from our feet to the depths of the grassland, there are only vibrant little flowers called pansies, crowding together like a giant carpet. Where this carpet meets Mount Buso, a dark spot rapidly magnifies – that's Benlei. Gradually, Benlei's mane, leaping in the wind, becomes clear, and behind it, a pair of breathtakingly beautiful little hands.

"Alan, Alan, jump down!" Duan Yue's heart bursts into a big smile, and he stretches out his arms.

With a neigh, Benlei rears up, and the girl on its back stands up, leaping down like a swallow returning to its nest without hesitation. Duan Yue

catches her tightly, then rolls along the gently undulating grassland, all the way into the depths of the vibrant flower sea. Countless tender flower branches undulate under its weight.

The wind carried a sweet floral fragrance. Occasionally, a delicate, jade-like arm would emerge from the sea of flowers, only to be pulled back by the vibrant red blossoms. Among the trembling branches, one or two pointed toes, pink and white, would always appear, kicking out, curling up, stretching out in the air.

"Second Prince~" Alan's voice was so sweet it could be squeezed out of honey, the murmured call seemingly coming from his nose.

Her pointed lips were bitten. "What did you call me?" The large hand pinched Alan's most tender flower bud with displeasure, then gently squeezed it with tenderness.

Alan melted into a puddle of water, panting, "Yue, ah, Yue-gege~ I want it, Alan wants more~" The golden sunset dyed the grassland magnificently, and Benlei carried the two figures towards the direction of the Tiele tribe.

"I won't go, Father Khan, I don't want to go!" Duoyi blushed, clenching her small fists tightly.

"Why should I have to go just because that Ningchao emperor wants me? I love Mengda, we have already sworn to be together to the Busho Mountain God." She truly deserves to be the most beautiful rose on the grassland, even her anger is so bright and beautiful! If she weren't so beautiful, how could the Heavenly Khan have specifically requested her in the peace talks?

Tuoba Ye's eyebrows were somewhat pale, with a few long hairs drooping almost to his upper eyelids. The eagle of the grasslands had aged, and his sharp eyes held a hint of melancholy when he looked at his beloved daughter.

"Father, we'll fight them! The Tiele tribe has no cowards! Duoyi can't leave!" Duan Yue had been listening outside the tent for a long time before realizing that the Ning Dynasty's peace envoy had privately proposed a marriage alliance with Duoyi.

Tuoba Ye squinted at his son and daughter, silently stepped out of the tent, and gestured for them to follow.

The three of them walked slowly around the tribe. After a while, faint weeping came from one of the tents. It was an old woman, sobbing intermittently under the lamplight. A small child was sleeping beside her, and she was afraid of waking the child, so she kept covering her mouth. But such weeping, in the night, was especially heartbreaking.

"Tuoba Yue, we fought a battle with the Ning Dynasty, and our Tiele tribe lost 863 heroes! The Tiele tribe has no cowards, but now there are too many mothers who have lost their sons, and too many eaglets who have lost their fathers!" The second prince of the Tiele tribe, Tuoba Yue, yearned for the culture of the Central Plains and gave himself a Han Chinese name, Duan Yue. He had always passionately longed for everything under that sky, but now, he was beginning to hate that place.

"Father Khan, no matter what, we cannot send Duoyi away!" Tuoba Ye's dark eyebrows trembled in the night wind, his sharp eyes piercing Duan Yue's eyes, implying something. "Not sending Duoyi away is also acceptable!" "Father Khan?"

Tuoba Ye looked outside Tuoba Yue's tent, where a graceful young woman was walking in the night carrying a bowl of mare's milk.

That was Alan, the daughter of Tuoba Yue's wet nurse.

"The most beautiful flower on the grassland isn't just one!"

"No, Father Khan, that's Alan!"

"It's not Alan, it's Duoyi, Tuoba Yue, look back at yourself!" Duoyi's delicate face was a little haggard, like a little animal full of anger but not knowing what to do, looking at her brother for help. Behind Duoyi were rows of tents, where the people of the Tiele tribe lived, the future belonging to Tuoba Yue, the responsibility! Duan Yue

downed the wine in his cup in one gulp, then pretended to carefully examine the patterns on the silver cup in his hand, his heart aching so much that he could hardly breathe.

Five months had passed. Since the night he learned he was to be sent away, Alan had never spoken a word to him.

Even on the long road to Ningchao, she had never seen him again. Was there nothing more to say? "Hearing that you have two minds, I will sever ties with you!" The scene of him teaching her this poem that day flashed through his mind, and his heart clenched again.

The dancer serving wine came over to pour wine, and suddenly slipped a small crumpled piece of paper into his palm.

Duan Yue's drunkenness suddenly subsided. Looking around the Shouguang Palace, amidst the emperor and his officials, the entire hall was filled with debauchery. No one paid any attention to him, the Tiele eagle, this disheartened drunken cat. He casually used the restroom to leave the palace. The moonlight was serene.

"Midnight, Lan Yue Pavilion!"

Duan Yue arrived at Lan Yue Pavilion at 11:45 PM. Reeds were lush, white dew had turned to frost, and a thin layer of cotton-white, like snow and frost, covered the lakeside path. The night breeze occasionally shook the cold fragrance of a plum blossom by the pavilion. A thin mist slowly rose from the lake. Duan Yue looked at his childhood sweetheart in the mist, remembering how they had ridden horses together, drawn arrows together to defend themselves, milked cows together, and listened to the stories of the Butuo Mountain God. The beautiful girl had bitten her lip and bravely surrendered herself, amidst blooming flowers and lush green grass.

Perhaps he had drunk too much, for Duan Yue hadn't noticed a figure standing on the bridge outside the pavilion.

A woman in a flowing red dress, her long skirt trailing behind her, held a red oil-paper umbrella, gazing at the Shouguang Palace on the opposite bank. A beautiful woman indeed, but perhaps a little too thin! Duan

Yue opened his mouth to call out, "May I ask, young lady?"

The woman slowly turned around, her chin, barely a handful, first revealed, followed by half of her exquisitely beautiful yet indifferent face.

Even just half a face was enough to kill Duan Yue! It was Alan, the Alan who never smiled, so, so thin, so thin he couldn't recognize her!

His girl walked towards him with a strange, gentle rhythm, like the women dancing gracefully in the palace. No, this wasn't his Alan. His Alan, though she didn't like to smile, always had a gentle curve at the corners of her lips, her eyes brimming with sunshine; his girl, though as serene as an orchid, could ignite the grasslands when she danced, not this languid swaying. Duan Yue wanted to shout, but his mouth was open, and not a single word came out.

"Am I beautiful, Second Prince?"

"Alan..."

"Am I beautiful?"

"..."

Alan's perfectly made-up red lips curved, but there was no smile in her eyes. Her forehead was about to touch Duan Yue's nose when she tilted her head back, just like that night, stubbornly wanting him to say a word. He, too, just like that night, had his tongue cut off by the devil, unable to speak.

Alan's neck was slender and delicate, yet possessed a jade-like luster. She clutched her collarbone, revealing the collarbone that always attracted Duan Yue's lingering gaze. It was as beautiful as ever, but because of her thinness, it resembled a mountain rock rising from a dried-up spring, all the more rugged and austere. Duan Yue

looked at her collarbone with hurt and pain, as if a sharp blade had pierced his heart. Unfortunately, he soon realized that the blade had only just pierced.

Alan's hand trembled, and her clothes tore open from the middle, falling to her waist. Duan Yue only felt the blade spin around once. Before him lay a breathtakingly beautiful body, covered in whip marks starting from below her collarbone. Especially striking were the crisscrossing welts on her snow-white breasts, the two nipples he cherished oozing blood from the purplish-blue marks!

"Am I beautiful? Second Prince!"

Duan Yue trembled, gripping her shoulders, unable to breathe, feeling as if his lungs were about to burst. "Alan…" "Am I not beautiful anymore? You won't even kiss me?" Her voice was a mixture of resentment and sigh, just like the feigned sadness she displayed whenever he displeased her.

Duan Yue held her tightly. The skin behind her, once smooth and soft like satin, now felt broken and undulating to the touch. His heart felt ripped out again. His eyes reddened, and he closed them, fiercely kissing her red lips.

Alan seemed even more eager than him, her small hands trembling as she tore at his clothes.

"Alan, no, your injuries?"

"Am I not beautiful anymore? You don't want me anymore?"

This soft, resentful sigh made Duan Yue's throat tighten. He desperately demanded a deep kiss, as if he wanted to devour Alan.

His fingers roamed freely over her territory, yet with utmost care, the touch as light as a feather, afraid of hurting her.

Alan snorted, seemingly dissatisfied. She grabbed his hand and, guided by him, kneaded her body heavily. The bruises from the whipping transformed into strange patterns, sometimes curved, sometimes straight, sometimes broken in the middle and then looping back into a ring.

Duan Yue felt a pain so intense it was almost numb, yet on the other hand, looking at these bizarre and cruel marks, he felt a tremendous urge, exploding from his numb heart and rushing straight down to his groin, throbbing and throbbing, a throbbing pain that was also somewhat numb.

Alan's red dress slowly draped down to her ankles, some of the light red gauze falling into the lake, rippling gently.

Under the moonlight, her delicate body, veiled by jet-black hair, was utterly breathtaking. Her neck, hands, feet—the parts that had previously been exposed—were perfectly sculpted like jade. Those areas, once covered by clothing, were now half-revealed in her hair. The bluish-purple datura flowers, etched into her jade by repeated lashes, stretched from her heart to her snowy buttocks, the stems swirling limply around her smooth left calf. Countless red welts, like fiery serpents, emerged from beneath the datura's leaves, spitting out burning, glistening drops of blood.

Duan Yue abruptly lifted her, placed her on the railing, and spread her legs. The orchids that had bloomed peacefully in the secluded valley were now mangled and scattered, their petals curled and broken. A ruby-carved ring pierced her clitoris, radiating brilliant light. The distorted beauty of her fragile, delicate form, ravaged by cruelty, seared Duan Yue's eyes.

The scorching, massive rod pressed against the delicately cracked petals, and with a sudden, forceful thrust, it entered deeply. A relentless, merciless storm of thrusts began.

The girl beneath him let out her first cry of pain since they met. Perhaps her flower-like opening was also wounded; it clenched and convulsed tightly, yet she bit down on the pain. Her delicate body undulated, and the bluish-purple datura trembled and bloomed, clouding Duan Yue's senses. The more she bit, the harder he bit; the harder he bit, the more she bit. A vast, complex emotion transformed into a brutal, savage force, determined to force her to cry out, to force her to call him.

"Ah~ Yue~" Alan finally trembled as she called out his name. The beast withdrew, leaving behind dark red nectar, her body convulsing violently in pain.

Duan Yue paused, gripping her fingers tightly. She was in pain, and so was he; they didn't know which part of life's impermanence had shattered.

"They forced us to offer ourselves to the princess, but they trained me like a dancer, making me spin barefoot on icicles, whipping me whenever I fell!" "They trampled me under their feet like a chair, a chair, you know?" "That emperor was a madman, he had several princes take turns raping me, watching and having fun!"... Alan murmured her complaints, her voice barely audible, her large eyes blank, as if she were talking to no one.

Duan Yue trembled as he tried to lift her up, but found himself still deeply embedded in her body. The movement startled Alan awake. She smiled alluringly, her gaze unfocused, "Am I beautiful? Yue, why don't you love me anymore?" One hot tear after another fell onto her blood-soaked nipples, the saltiness making her shiver, her lower body tightening again. Duan Yue's mind seemed to be torn in two, one half wanting to lift her up, the other half wanting to shatter her completely. Pulled and tugged, sometimes gently, sometimes heavily, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, he continued to fall, fall, fall to the deepest depths of the eighteenth level of hell, explode, spray.

At the moment of his explosion, Alan used a silver needle hidden between her fingers to prick his neck. Duan Yue's eyes widened; the night seemed to distort.

His girl, his Alan, walked to the edge of the bridge, turned around, and smiled slightly, a warmth like that of someone jumping off a thunderbolt. Then, with a resolute backward fall, she plunged into the icy lake, a violet slowly sinking to the bottom.

Drop by drop, another drop, another drop, glistening water droplets gathered, then fell, splashing out ripples. "Alan…," Duan Yue cried out silently, tears flowing against the current in his heart!

"Alan!"

"I'm here, I'm here~" Meng Lan reached out and grasped Duan Yue's hand.

Duan Yue finally opened his eyes, dazed for a long time, his gaze fixed on the IV drip above his head, the drops falling one by one. His eyes couldn't focus; a violet was submerged in the fluid!

The air initially smelled of disinfectant, then of sweet dream fragrance. Duan Yue had returned home from the hospital; half a month had passed since the car accident, and he hadn't uttered a word during that time.

The painting he'd forgotten in the car was later returned to him by the police. He had originally intended to show it to Meng Lan, but after waking up, he changed his mind and locked it in the deepest part of the bookcase. He still visited Meng Lan every now and then, but he no longer spoke. He would simply lie in the rocking chair, lost in the sweet dream fragrance, and drift into a deep sleep, his dreams devoid of the violet that remained frozen whether his eyes were open or closed.

It seemed his only purpose in visiting Meng Lan was to sleep, and Meng Lan never complained!

"My lord, you really don't find this troublesome!"

"Believe me, if you had also survived from the separation of chaos until now, you wouldn't find it troublesome either!" The black cat that had just nestled at Duan Yue's feet stretched and stood on the windowsill, watching Duan Yue drive away downstairs. It looked admiringly at the rocking chair, where a snow-white beast lay lazily, its eyes bright green, with a tiger's head and a sheep's body. One paw was fiddling with a miniature maze on the chair, inside which was a tiny figure unable to find its way out. If Duan Yue were here, he would definitely be amazed, as the tiny figure looked exactly like him. Unfortunately, Duan Yue wasn't here, and he didn't see it.

"My lord, is autumn coming to an end? Don't you think the scenery here is a bit monotonous?" "Hmm, soon, it will be over!" The bright green eyes shone with dazzling light as it used its claws to slowly force the tiny figure to the deepest part of the maze, where there was no way out.

Duan Yue hadn't updated his writing for a long time. He had encountered the biggest creative block he had ever faced, unable to think. Whenever he tried to think, that violet flower would appear in his mind.

He wandered aimlessly online, somehow stumbling upon a text-based BDSM group. He watched the words jump around like an observer, some he noticed, some he didn't, and neither noticed mattered to him.

Until one day, a post about SM caught his eye, and he read it word for word. Duan

Yue had joined a local SM club, slowly becoming a submissive, practicing asphyxiation orgasms and ice love, becoming a mysterious figure in the community. He hadn't been to Meng Lan's place in a long time; whether he slept with her or not was meaningless to him! At a submissive auction

in late October, Duan Yue saw a pair of hands, soft and boneless, fingers like jade-carved scallions! Those hands were bound with red rope, held inside a glass case, the lower half of which was firmly covered by red velvet. His heart pounded, and without hesitation, he repeatedly raised his paddle, bidding on the glass case.

"Flower Moon in Spring Breeze," this themed hotel Duan Yue had used more than once, but this time it left him more parched and his heart pounding than ever before.

He slowly opened the glass box. The body inside gleamed with a jade-like light, smooth and beautiful, just like the image deep in his memory. M's head was covered; he didn't dare look up, nor did he dare remove the veil obscuring her face.

Following the locations of the red snakes in his memory, Duan Yue deeply tightened the red rope around her tender skin, then, as if possessed, picked up the longest snake whip and lashed it at the jade-like woman, each lash a replica of the violet etched in his heart. Her delicate body trembled under the whip, making Duan Yue's heart race. "Alan, Alan, my Alan!"

He turned her over, securing her to the bed, caressing the serene petals of her vulva. "Alan, my Alan, if you are destined for destruction, I hope you are destroyed by my hands." The long whip lashed out without hesitation, its slight barbs easily tearing the petals apart. His burning tears fell drop by drop onto the seeping blood, and his fingertips, like red jeweled needles, pierced her swollen clitoris without hesitation.

Duan Yue slowly untied the restraints, the girl beneath him seemingly limp from the torment. The object in her mouth was removed, yet she didn't utter a sound, only her body trembled uncontrollably, perhaps from the intense pain. Duan Yue gripped her thighs, like a recurring memory, his burning member pressing against her ravaged valley, thrusting in fiercely, battling again and again.

He carried her into the bathroom, remaining firmly inside her, relentlessly ravaging her. Ice water was slowly added to the bathtub, and their joined bodies tumbled into it. So cold, Alan, so this is how cold you are.

Stimulated by the cold, the girl slowly lifted herself, convulsively clenching her muscles. The purplish-blue whip marks on her breasts rose and fell with the movement of her breasts, not rising above the water, but beneath, the pale violets swayed gently.

Duan Yue felt a tingling sensation down his spine, his glans throbbing wildly. He violently ripped off the girl's veil, her black hair falling back, revealing that exquisitely beautiful yet indifferent face—Alan! It was like redemption, it was like surrender; his heart sank suddenly with the climax of his ejaculation. "Alan, what do you want?

" "Yue, I want you to stay with me!"

"Good!"

The girl's lips curved into a smile, the violet petals heaving violently against the gushing penis. She embraced his head, slowly pushing him down into the water. The icy water seeped into Duan Yue's nostrils and ears, causing his swollen member, buried deep within his honeyed orifice, to spurt out again. So this is what it means to see your lover through the water!

"My lord!" The naked girl in the bathtub slowly knelt up, gazing up at Meng Lan who had entered. Her eyes, previously vacant, were now filled with adoration and longing. Lord Taotie, I can actually do such a small thing for you! I'm so, so, so excited I want to scream!

Meng Lan gracefully walked to the edge of the bathtub, opened the oil-paper umbrella, and the golden lotus flowers on its surface extended their stems, wrapping around Duan Yue's limbs. Blood flowed along the stems to the umbrella surface, alive, red. Meng Lan

patted the girl's head, like patting a kitten asking for praise. Then, satisfied, it materialized. The beast with a tiger's head and a sheep's body narrowed its beautiful blue eyes, devouring the joys and sorrows floating in the air, each emotion reaching its ultimate sweetness.

"My lord, I really don't understand, why did you make it so complicated?" "Fool, the Heavenly Dao made me purify the Six Paths, so I have to pay some interest! Don't you think human joys, sorrows, love, hate, anger, and resentment are like seasonings? Don't you put salad dressing on your bread?" "My lord, where are we going now? I don't want to paint anymore!" "Then this time you write a novel! How about 'The Moon Over the River'? I think I can try being a nurse and see if I can awaken the fear in people's hearts without hypnosis!" "My lord, the Heavenly Scheme you set up this time is very clever!" "No, in this world, there has never been a Heavenly Scheme. Only you can deceive yourself, and only you can kill yourself. I just gave him a hint, and then he will weave it himself!"

Word count: 17146

[The End]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/178536.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=178536&aspx=1

Previous Page : Demons also have sex

Next Page : 5 people working together

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Hypnotic assassination

comment Open a new window to view comments