"You can't just stay here like this, you'll get sick." The man drank quite well, and except for his initial rash behavior, he kept standing obediently.
He tilted his head and kept laughing. The spring water is on the pillow, the smile is caring, the smile is crazy, and the smile does not care about sorrow and joy. He lowered his head and looked at Xiao Jing, his eyes full of waves, as if they were overgrown with withered grass.
Xiao Jing was sad and covered his eyes. "No laughing."
If Xiaojing doesn't let him laugh, he won't laugh. Xiaojing asked where his home was? His lips touched the palm of his hand, and Xiao Jing stopped his hand. He replied as ignorantly as a child, "Where you are is my home."
"But I don't have a home. I live in the backyard of the Secret Pavilion."
Xiaojing tugged on his sleeve, and the man obediently let her hold him. Suddenly he held her hand again, and the joints were clearly the same as mine. He entangled with her one by one, holding on tightly. Xiao Jing flinched and wanted to leave, but he was stubborn and determined not to let go.
"I will give you my home." The voice was so soft that Xiao Jing thought he was hallucinating.