I love this story so much.
His skin is like silk, the black silk pajamas he wears, the woman he married is full of jade and gold hairpins, he is weak, a native of Fushun in northern China. "How can I..." He was crying. "I'd rather you didn't love me." He shook his hands. He slapped her, then zipped up his black suit pants. He was crying, and he seemed to be shouting in Chinese: "I love you, and I will love you to death!"
Her little brother had tears in her eyelashes, and she was so lucky and so unfortunate that they crossed the Mekong together. She said that Chinese people, all over the body, only the sex organs are hard, the rest are soft. If it were me, I would love him too. That must be love.
"That's because we have sex during the day, during the hottest part of the day..." I understand it's morbid, but I also believe it's love, deep love.
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