Jiu Ge’s Beloved Spirit

Trembling cold fingers gently touched the book.

On the cover of the book, it is clearly written - "Quick Introduction to Massage"

If there is no temperature in the book, the pages of the paper will have already turned yellow because of too long time.

Slowly opening the book, the aroma of the book spreads along with the paper. The printed fonts are full of them, all of which are highlighted by herself.

This includes when to perform massage, when to perform foot massage for rehabilitation patients, and various massage techniques to activate blood circulation and meridians.

She read it carefully herself, and then folded some important pages.

That was the last book she read before leaving, and she was still thinking about how to make him feel better.

The man lowered his head and looked unclear.

Only his shoulders were shaking slightly, and he seemed to be choking.

The severe pain from his heart was like an invisible hand holding him tightly, causing the emotions in his chest to scream crazily.

The pain and sourness that he had been suppressing felt like a mouthful of sweet blood welling up at this moment, filling the tip of his tongue, and it was extremely bitter.

He started coughing violently, one after another, as if he couldn't stop coughing.

A mouthful of warm and bright red blood spilled directly from his lips, and he fell to the ground as if he had lost all strength.

Coughing, coughing non-stop, he held the book tightly, his eyes were red, his mouth was filled with fishy sweetness, and his fingers were trembling to the point of morbidity.

Pain. Pain all over the body

He fell to the ground like a dying fish, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with bloodshot eyes.

Holding the book tightly with both arms, he cried and laughed. Sometimes he coughed and laughed, and sometimes he cried with a ferocious face.

He murmured something in his mouth, as if he was crazy, hugged the book and hissed.

He carefully glanced at the empty bed. His mouth was full of blood, his eyes were filled with tears, and he was laughing.

He said: "Si Si is sleeping, so you can't disturb Si Si."

He lay on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

His eyes were dull and stupid, staring straight into the sky in front of him, coughing blood and laughing at the same time.

With his messy collar and twitching limbs, he smiled lowly, flicked his wrist, and hit the corner of the table directly.

Where the cuffs were exposed, you could vaguely see the marks of self-mutilation with a knife.

There are all scars there, one after another, new wounds with old scars, overlapping layers, shocking.

Even when he hit the corner of the table, he seemed not to feel any pain and was still laughing.

Smiling like a crazy mental patient, he took out a portable knife from his pocket.

The blade was sharp and looked like it had been polished to the point of sharpening.

He raised the knife, letting the silvery knife shine in the light.

He shushed quietly and looked at the book in his arms.

He said: "Si Si is angry, Si Si is angry with me."

"It doesn't matter, punishment. Just focus on the punishment."

"Si Si, don't be angry, can I cut off my own flesh and give it to you?"

"Or maybe, Si Si wants to cut my mouth open or slap me in the face. Si Si can do whatever he wants. Si Si, please don't be angry, okay?"

He smiled, but he was choking.

He kept coughing out blood. He grabbed the knife and stabbed it hard into his left arm, causing blood to spurt out.

He smiled softly, looking dazed.

As blood flowed down drop by drop, his laughter increased, with heart-rending madness.