Hahaha, half an hour ago I said I was practicing calligraphy, and then I wrote it from a temple on the mountain. Unknowingly, I had the structure of a story. A serious little monk with tender skin, tender flesh, small arms and white legs was targeted by a capable and stylish general who has been in love with one person for many years and came to fulfill his wishes. Can the chrysanthemum be saved? Hahaha! "Little monk! I have been thinking about you for so many years, do you think you can still run away!" "Here, don't talk nonsense in front of the Buddha. It's a sin, a sin--well--" The general licked the corner of his mouth with unfinished thoughts and looked down at the red-faced little monk in his arms. "Come on, say it again, eh?"