no one in the world

The memory remains on that day, and then the time of life is stagnant, and seeing this world is meaningless.

Just like Mu Wen, the mother-in-law never regretted the love that ended so badly. Watching Mu Wen leave, the mother-in-law remembered the last words that woman uttered, saying: "Live your hatred for the world in the years, and then , looking for a world that loves me, I’ll wait for you.” One hate, it took so long, the wound in my heart finally healed without regret, now, I can find her.

"The world that can love her, she must be waiting for me."

The author has something to say: There is also a side story and a postscript, come on!

Don't bring hatred for anything, love the person who loves you.

☆、Extra three

What does it feel like to die?

Is it because the consciousness is gradually dissipating, and the confusion between reality and the other side cannot be distinguished?

Is it the pain in the soul, and the helplessness that can't be grasped by reaching out?

Is it the pain of the face becoming ferocious and the eyes wide open but full of darkness?

Is it the reluctance of tears dripping down the heart, shouting hard but no one hears?

What about the world after death?Is it pitch black, or pure white?

Muwen died on the cold and lonely mountain, what would the world after death be like?Is he doing well there?Have you found someone with the same fate as your companion?

Spring goes to autumn, summer is over and autumn is approaching, the leaves sprout and fall, the upper part is prosperous, the lower part is withered, the world is being renewed in an orderly manner.

The wood grain also gradually sank, the clothes turned into dust, and he also turned into dust, disappearing in the world.

I don't know how long, the land is covered with small white flowers, and the slender stems are swaying in the wind, as if they will hang up at any time, but no matter how the wind blows, the small white flowers are still strong.

If Mu Wen saw it, would he hold up the flower plate of Xiaohua with his hands, gently and without leaving any traces, Xiaohua is very similar to him, insignificant, yet fighting against the world.

The reed flute is blowing horizontally, and the faint sound of the flute, coming from a distance and seems to be nearby, is melodious and melodious. This is what Mu Wen likes, unlike entering the sea, he likes the electronic sound of shaking legs, although it is indeed quite touching.

Think about the world when Mu Wen was alive, never restricting the freedom of the Internet, and let Mu Wen fight for a few pages on the Internet for those sweet and salty tofu brains. Net run.At that time, he was just ordinary, no, he was always ordinary, but how could he become extraordinary after falling in love with someone of the same gender.

When Mu Wen died, he was smiling. He thought, no matter heaven or hell, let him go to a world where he can love the person he wants to love, and that person loves him too. At least he can stand up when difficulties come. By his side, hold his hand and say, "It's okay, I'm here with you." In this way, he is satisfied.I don't know if this words that only appear in Muwen's dream, will someone say it to him, in the next life if there is one, in another world if there is one.

I don’t know where I can see the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, find the flower of the other world where I can find the true love, let the lonely people get love, and let the lovers never separate.

"In my dream, I crossed the white clouds and turned the clouds into waves that beat my heart.

When I came to the place where water and sky meet, I saw small white flowers swaying, like the only remaining hope in the beacon fire on the battlefield. It is strong and will not wither.

There seems to be someone beckoning, holding the blue leaves,

In a trance, the man seemed to be smiling, shallowly, depositing the world of mortals in it.

When I approached, people turned into white clouds, the green leaves fell, and fiery red flowers bloomed, spreading rapidly on the white clouds, filling my heart.

I held up a small red flower and placed it next to the small white flower, weeping sadly, what made me sad?It's you who turned into a white cloud.

Have you ever heard it?

The wind and rain have quieted down, leaving only the clear and crisp birdsong, like the first cry of a newborn;

Have you ever seen it?

The dead leaves are no more, new shoots grow, and the ice of the heart has cracks;

Have you ever rested?

Since then, the brook is still gurgling, and even the moon is getting clearer and brighter.

Don't care about people or things that make you sad, they have nothing to do with you.

Don't wait for someone to look back at you, and chase after someone's footsteps.

Now, later, you belong to yourself. "

The author has something to say: May the world be gentle to everyone.

☆, postscript

First of all, thank you for your support. Although I don't know who you are or how much you have watched, I am also very grateful for that little attention. I am very happy.

As for me, I have never written a novel, and it is not long. Naturally, I don’t ask anyone to read it. It’s just a kind of self-satisfaction.To be honest, the reason for wanting to write a novel, and even registering a pseudonym, was very hasty, purely because I was too free during the summer vacation after the college entrance examination.I casually flipped through science magazines, ╮(╯▽╰)╭, the pseudonym was confirmed.

When I first started writing, my younger sister would just roll her eyes at me, saying that my few dollars for water was not enough for my thirst, and I wanted to share it out, which was embarrassing.But I know she won't object to me, it's just that she has a bit of a poisonous mouth and doesn't forgive others.I wrote an ambitious article, but I got stuck in less than a chapter and lost my inspiration. Compared with those great gods, I am simply a scumbag.The end of the last ten chapters, although I planned it, but at best it is a super short story, at worst it is unfinished, and it is a waste of time to write down.

My sister said: "After you finish writing, read it from the beginning, think as a reader, make up for the shortcomings, and inherit the advantages. Don't feel too good about yourself, and don't be too humble." Yes, too much self-goodness is annoying, too much Modesty is also annoying, and it is not the posture that a writer should have anyway.Having said that, how does my sister know so much? She is obviously a child who depends on me to comb her hair.

Well, I am responsible for the articles I write, and I keep both praises and criticisms. Regardless of the character of the characters or the image of the characters I created, I like all the characters in it. Sometimes, it’s like writing about myself. What mother, stepmother.

The above is the official end of this article. Once again, I would like to thank those who clicked in and read it, as well as my sister who is soft-tongued and cute, and the songs that accompanied me when I coded the text. Goodbye, everyone!