All living beings in hell

Chapter 196 The Beginning [End of Full Text]

At the beginning
I gradually could not feel my spiritual body anymore. In the burning of the fire of the catastrophe, everything that used to belong to the writing has disappeared.

Wherever I look, I can only see water, small fish, impurities in the water, and air bubbles.

"Who am I?" I wanted to speak, but found that I had no mouth.

No one answered me.

I seem to have been lying on the bottom of the water for a long, long time, and the sunlight just touched the bottom of the water where I was.The water flow takes away the excess temperature, and it is still cool.

"This is the original place."

There was a sound that seemed to come from beyond the surface of the water.

"This is where?"

I asked again.

"This is the original place."

"I still have work to do..."

A hand reached into the water, picked me up, and played with it in his hand.The sun above my head was blinding my eyes. In the backlight, I couldn't see the person's face, but the voice was very familiar.

"My lord, it's time to go back to work!"

A child's voice came, and the person holding me and I turned around at the same time and said, "Here we come."

I froze for a moment, the man put me in his pocket, it was dark and I couldn't see anything.

"My lord, what were you doing just now?" the child continued to ask.

"I found a smoother stone to make the paperweight, so that the paper won't run around," the man replied.

"let me see!"

I was taken out of my pocket and put into the child's hands.The child stroked me upside down in his hand: "What a beautiful stone, look at the texture, it looks like the clouds in the sky."

"It's still a stormy day, look here, there is still the eye of the storm."

"So lovely."

I looked up, and only then did I see clearly the appearance of the man called "The Writer" - he was my teacher when I was a book boy in my previous life.

"Do stones have souls?" the child asked.

"Yes, of course. Everything has a soul."

After saying this, the master held me up to his eyes and said, "Look at this stone, it seems a little sad."

"How can a stone be sad?"

I don't know why I feel sad. Looking at this scene, my heart seems to be crying.

I was taken back to the office where I was writing, put on the table, and pressed against a corner of the rice paper.

The door opened and a guest walked in.

"Come in, please, what should I call you?"

Everything is back to the original place.

A hundred years later, the paperweight stone will turn into a book boy.

A hundred years later, the book boy will take refuge in the world at the end of hell.

The world turns around, and I return to the office to regain the memories I once had time and time again.I don't know how many times I have fulfilled my previous vows, and how many times I have made vows from the beginning again.

While forgetting, I regained it, and at the same time helped others to carefully record the past that I didn't want to be forgotten.

That stone back then, and me now, are all peacefully placed in a corner of this thousand worlds.

Hundreds of flowers and families are tossing and dying, looking for and living together with no one to rely on.

I used to be a writer with a name, but now I am a ghost of a nameless ghost.

Nothing to worry about, the future can be expected.

(End of this chapter)