only…
She is really too tired.
Tired, sleepy, tired, she wanted to speak, but no matter what, she couldn't.
Blood soaked her dress and the ground beneath her.
Slowly, she closed her eyes.
Her pale face was covered with tears. Even with a large amount of blood loss, her original noble and delicate temperament and identity could not be concealed.
She is a princess, a kind-hearted princess who was held in the palm of everyone's hands in the past, and who should have enjoyed all the beauty in the world.
The trick of fate left her alone, with no peace of mind, and died miserably in a foreign land.
No one knew she was here, and no one would save her.
All hope is lost.
No gods came, no miracles happened.
The dark shadow stood in front of her, just like that, watching her, bit by bit, reaching the last moment of her life.
The blood flowing from the body is rapidly oxidized by the air, turns black, and blends with the soil.
Her eyes were closed, stained with crystal tears, like a delicate porcelain doll. Perhaps, she was already dreaming of an extremely beautiful dream.
In the dream, she was still the carefree little princess, receiving all the love and living a free and unrestrained life.
In the dream, her father was playing with her and riding horses with her, while her mother was embroidering clothes for her and gently telling her bedtime stories.
Her good sister Meng Niang would cover her when she ran out for fun. When she jumped over the wall and jumped down, she could see her brother's stern face, which looked particularly serious and worried about her...
Is this picture a dream?
Why does it feel so real to her?
The moment she closed her eyes, she seemed to see A Niang coming to pick her up.
Aniang stretched out her hand to take her home.
So warm, grandma’s embrace, so warm.
She missed her so much and her arms.She wanted to tell her that she had a terrible, terrible nightmare and that she was very scared.
But now, seeing A Niang, she is not afraid anymore.
She curled her lips slightly, and the crystal tears slid down, dripping on the ground full of blood.
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…
…
…
With her bright red dress, her cold corpse, her pale yet delicate and beautiful face, she died - in this huge ghost mausoleum, there was no miracle that could be expected.
The wind blows gently, as if there is no end, blowing endlessly.
The slow wind, like a naughty and heartless ghost, blew through her beautiful and soft hair and her dry, salty eyelashes.
The red skirt was fluttering slightly, but it could not move her fingers even a little bit. She closed her eyes and seemed to be asleep, but just fell asleep.
Looking at her dark shadow, he left not long after, leaving her body untouched.
His body was cold and stiff, just lying there quietly.
No one came to bury it, and no one came to pay homage to it. Even though it was covered by the wind and sand, no one cared.
The wind is blowing, the fog is approaching, and the years outside are changing at an unknown time. In the ghost mausoleum, time and space seem to be stagnant.
No sunshine, no warmth, always damp, gloomy, and lifeless.
Occasionally, someone would enter by mistake outside, but as soon as they came in, they would be eaten before they could even get close to the body in the red dress.
“Kakkakakka—” The vaginas here are always extremely hungry and compete for food.
And the corpse, just like this, gradually decayed and turned into water in the unconscious years, exposing the delicate white bones the color of snow.
Red skirts, white bones, everything that remains seems to tell the vivid life that once existed here.