Recently, I feel more and more empty. I really want to rush into a room, no one cares about me, rummage through the cabinets and take away all the good things inside.
So I wanted to write a story, a story about a little grass demon named Lingjian looking for treasure without getting caught and doing whatever he wants.
There was also a man named Yang Xi who watched it quietly and smiled, watching it grow without catching it or disturbing it.
In the midsummer season, the grass grows uncontrollably into patches of dazzling green, and the shade is so thick and saturated that the color will seep out drop by drop. The meadows as far as the eye can see are surrounded by a stream, a sea of bamboo, a village, and a thatched hut. In this hut, a little green demon appeared.
The green little demon's body stiffened at that moment, because it suddenly saw a person lying on the bed, and that person was looking at him. The little cyan demon's throat twitched and he swallowed. He subconsciously held the porcelain box tightly in his hands tighter and looked at the person lying on the bed with wide eyes.
The man on the bed did not move, and there was not even a trace of surprise in his eyes. He just looked at the little cyan demon across from him quietly, at his delicate brows, his bright black eyes, and at the cinnabar box held tightly in his slender fingers.
This action lasted for nearly a minute.
The person on the bed finally couldn't help but smile slightly, turned his head and closed his eyes. I closed my eyes and thought that it turned out that the people in the village saying there was a grass demon was true.