Fulin's Guangyang

About This Novel

The setting sun is like a grapefruit that cannot be picked, red and orange, suspended high in the sky. What Fulin took out from the cave under the roots of the grapefruit tree and scattered them were only fragments of ant nests and ants. These things were all over his head and feet and the ground. The autumn wind seems to have just emerged from the cracks in the ground, bathing in the smell of earth and the fragrance of green grass, one after another. Debris was scattered all over the ground. The bereaved black ants and yellow ants panicked and fled in all directions. Ten meters around, the dark mass of wounded and disabled soldiers was particularly eye-catching in the fading sunlight. Several yellow ants crawled along the heels and crawled into the leg of Fulin's trousers, inch by inch, until they crawled toward his crotch. Some even climbed onto the thing he was peeing on and bit into his vagina. He was so numb that he didn't react at all, as if his body belonged to someone else.

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