[Comprehensive] Floating dream with one knife

Carved railings and green tiles, nine curved vermilion railings, beauties are like clouds and fog, like fairy concubines, like real people.From time to time, there are silk and gold fans, and the wealthy and drunkards shuttle among them.

A love I wish, a night of ecstasy, a pair of "wit and beauty".

The brothel should be like this.

But Zhuang Zhou's seeking is not the case.

The brothel in front of him was just a brothel.

There are five or six thatched huts, old women and young children three or four, and the smoke from the cooking is shaking straight up to the green hills. A mottled and greasy plaque is tremblingly erected on one or two tattered shelves, with the word "brothel" engraved crookedly.

The shaved big yellow dog barked lazily, and the bald-tailed domestic cat lay by the well, lazily giving him a look back.

It is not so much a brothel as a world of fireworks.

Standing at the door of this world of fireworks, Zhuang Zhou looks like a cloud surrounded by a golden glow, stepping on the setting sun and descending, completely out of place, 100% out of the crowd.

But no one looked at him.

The old woman touched the child's head with shaking hands, and the child laughed endlessly, but even the man lying beside the big yellow dog in front of the door and guarding the door didn't even look at him.

Zhuang Zhou smiled and stepped into the door.

The man stretched out his legs without any fumes to stop his pace, as if the wind was blowing and the clouds were light, and the grass was growing.

"If you want to enter my building, enter my door, don't bring ordinary customs."

Zhuang Zhou was wearing a snow-white scholar's robe, and he had neither a folding fan nor a sword, nor even money.

He smiled slightly, his amber eyes were as clear as the lake and autumn water, as gentle and tolerant as the clear blue sky, and the figure was hidden in his pupils, quiet and warm.

"With nothing else in your body, how can you be ordinary."

The man said: "Bones are common, but flesh is common."

Zhuang Zhou sighed.

"Borrow a knife."

The man took out a boning knife from under the miscanthus pile, it was broken and rusty, there was still old blood on the handle, it was brown and mottled.

Zhuang Zhou took the knife, gently and silently cut the back of his hand with the tip of the knife, the rusty tip cut open the flesh inch by inch, and the bright red blood overflowed, staining the sleeves of his robe, with a smile on his lips, fingers As soon as he moved, a piece of flesh had already been sliced ​​off, and white bones could be seen in the white jade hand for a moment.

"Is it enough?"

He smiled, with dignified eyebrows and a flat tone, as if it wasn't his bones but his flesh that were removed, as if he just brushed off a little dust.

Only then did the man take a serious look at him.

Zhuang Zhou looked back with a smile.

The man calmly withdrew his legs.

Throwing the knife to him, Zhuang Zhou stepped into the brothel.

He ignored the old women and children, and went into a thatched hut without looking at the smoke from the kitchen.

There was no one in the thatched hut, only a bed made of thatched grass.

He smiled, lay down on his back, and closed his eyes.

Spring afternoon, just sleep.

The author has something to say:

The summer vacation is open, a short rest, a total of ten days, the day is changed, and tomorrow will be a quick knife to cut the mess