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，Istillhavesomenotaccustomedto，andthenthehorsebegantogallop，thehorseshoerollofvibrationsonthewood，acrowdcamethevoiceofShoutinghorseacceleratedconstantly，atthismomentIfeelthegroundshook，andthefeelingoflikeaboatinthewater，thenthesoundreallyspreadwateroneithersideoftheroad.
Whereisthis