The High Priest of the Miao Xinjiang Secret Arts
Without the three views, there may be literature on childbirth, forced love, and emptiness.
There was an ordinary sacrifice in Japan today. Our car broke down halfway. We saw a Miao village in front of us and walked quickly.
Halfway through, the strong wind blew the fog over, and it was about to rain. We were all wearing short-sleeved shirts and it was very cold. Got separated in a hurry.
The strange thing is that all the doors in the Miao village are closed, and the lights are turned off and there is only weak candle light. I am relatively introverted and afraid to knock on the door, so I plan to walk around to see if the door is not open before knocking. Fortunately, the door was open. I shouted at the door for a long time but no one answered. I could only hear the footsteps coming down from upstairs.
He looked at me. Today's sacrifices are similar to the Hungry Ghost Festival. Every household stays behind closed doors and only lights candles at home to worship with devotion. "Outside?" I said, "Yes, I accidentally wandered in. I'm sorry to disturb you. Can you go in and sit down?"
Intention: I want to watch forced love.