第一百一十八章 下棋的手(2 / 2)

bigmissyouletmelostsomuch，nomatteryouthatwhoisagainbig，ialsowon‘tletyoueasily，let‘sgo，theresinvillageseetakeyoutoourdreams.

stillhaveadreamresinvillage，isthegoldinthehostanduncletowrestleahiddenpower.

bullpenisalsoturnonablackhorse(twoblackwhere，now，hewantstomovebrainagainandsaveyourselfthebullpenisbuttocrack)lookatthevillage，tojustthebigman，withagoodsearch，whethertofinddon‘tfindherethendon‘tleaveanytraces，finishedaraninfrontofallthereins.

infantryonthebigshouldbetheteamleader，hetooktheatorchfromthehandofthepartner，thefirstwalkedintothevillageibeneaththehorsebegantowalkforward，idon‘tknowiftheycanfindtomyuncleinthevillagethatbatchofimportantenergy，butistillcan‘tunderstandsuchanimportantplaceonsomevillagersstationedherealone，butalsosomewomenandbuiltastockadeandthewallbutitforcattlepenisthesepeople，aslongastheyarewillingtocanalwaysrushedinandtuvillage.

butwhyisthaticametothishappenedhere，hadbeenharassedorwarning，liuguanjiabeforedeathcalloutthenameofthesecond，thatactuallyliuguanjiatheyalwaysknowwhatyou‘rewithagroupofpeople，ifweknowthatwhydefensesohasty，tomyuncle‘sstrengthandcommanderinchiefdecisionthisisjusttoohardtoimagine，isn‘theisintentionally...

thecattlepenisdaretorefusesorushedinandkillliuguanjiatuvillage，thisisthewillandthepowerofuncleapportionment，itisimpossibletocover，feelliuguanjia‘sdeathwasatradewindsofthestorm.

hecanrelyonistwoblacknow，hisbodywasreadiscanfindtheirowngas，butitisalsoasecondwish，yourmindwiththisguy.hewouldliketoknowthehistoryofthetwoblack，andlikethefeathereaglejanecollectedhis，sohedidn‘tkillhimselfiswanttwoblacktotakethebait.

ontheroadafterthesepeopledidnotwalkfromundergroundentranceintotheundergroundpassage，butenteredtheundeadforest(theyarenotafraidtopython)thesepeopleputalayerofoilonthetorchesclothbelt，thefireburningafterapungentsmell，don‘tknowwhatistocome，butmustbeonthegoheresecuritymeasures.

theydon‘thavehishorseracingbutveryslowonbothsidesofthefullofdeadtrees，desertedroadalong.

walkinonbothsidesofthepeoplefromhorsebackclothfromtimetotime，takeoutafewgrainsofthingintodeadunderthetreeintheshrub，eachdropagrainthatisacommotioninthebushes，alsoit‘sstrangeyouyesterdayintheforestonhorsebackbrotherhoodofthewolfandthedeadtreebranchestwitch，nowonebyoneallmotionless，likeadeadbutiwasverycleartheirrootsaresoilcreep，thismaybethereasonwhysomeshrubsinaction.

buttheairthereisaredintaste，stillshouldhavepeoplewhoisthedeadsnakeinthebody，astheyscatter，sidewillbeheldupatorch，thetorchshouldberestrainedsnakepeople，buttheygivethedeadtreeandfeedingstuff，thereisameanstothecattlepenistroopsfightisnotsimple，andjustkilltheliuguanjiacomparedwithstronguncle，itseemsthathewon‘t.

onbothsidesoftheroadfeelalmostcouldn‘tfindanyreference，timeseemstobeverylonghere，thosepeopleonbothsidesofthemachineryofrepeatingthesameaction，icanonlyseemyselfbehindthehorse，haven‘tsaidawordallalongthewaythatcattlepenisto

itisstrangethatthisroadseemstobenoforkorturn，don‘tknowisyourillusionorherebecauseofspaceandtime.

arepetitionofmovementsandsounds，butthesepeopledon‘tsayaword，andsoconstantlyrepeated，asifsuddenlybecameafteroutofthevillagejustnosoulwalkingdead，therewasnoexpressiononherface，hereiswhatforcesaffectthem

goalongthisroadforalongtimeinbecomingagoodmooddepressed，feelinghimselflikeadead，they‘refunforawhileandgenerallynotwo，livingforamomentinthedeadofforestroadonebyoneandallwithnoawarenessofthedead.

onlyfeelconstantlymoveforward，peoplesitdownonahorse，welltubehe‘sthekingoftheroadsolongevenwhentwoblackthemselvestofindnottooeasy，notsomebodyelse‘storch-andnofilialpiety，whatfood，theirevenbeingasfood，didn‘tfindsuchasiwaseatthebonesbroken.

feelmoreandmoreagitated，stoppedwhenpaolomaldini，theleftsideofthedeadtreeacracklingsound，thenthosewhocollectedthedeadbranches，revealingadarkpath，sothereisnosignofatunnel，ifnotdeadtreebranchesthemselvescan‘tgetoutofthewayitwasfoundthatthispath.

cavalrywentuptotheforkintheroad，afterthelookofthesepeoplestartedslowlychanged，nolongerrigiddeadpan，asifthesoulcamebackagain，myheartsuddenlyrealizedwhat，thesepeopleandthosewhohavethedeadsnakeinthebodyseemstobewhatistheconnection，thepavementoftheroadarewood，theirareintoalldirectionstogether，likewalkingonaship.

thecrowdnottothesideoftheroadandthings，alsodon‘tknowhowmanyparticles，thebagssolongstillhaven‘tfinishednow，thecrowdbegantohaveavoice，andmoreandmorelikethere，justthesilenceontheroad，thereisnobutthatisnoillusion.

leftagainnotamomentlikealampindribsanddrabsinthedistance，justbegantomoreandmorefast，ustomedto，andthenthehorsebegantogallop，thehorseshoerollofvibrationsonthewood，eleratedconstantly，atthismomentifeelthegroundshook，andthefeelingoflikeaboatinthewater，thenthesoundreallyspreadwateroneithersideoftheroad.

whereisthis