The red candles shed tears in the varnish, and the happy tent in the house hangs low.

You half-kneeled in front of the bed, watching her sitting with her head down, like a jade Guanyin enshrined.

Your hands that lifted the veil were shaking.

The engagement twenty years ago was too long.Fortunately, she is willing to marry you.

That loveless letter and the jade ring were burned into ashes by fire, and the ashes were buried in your bones in blood, rain, snow and mud.

But at this moment, she was sitting in front of you, and the beads falling from her eyelashes hit your heart one by one, as if she wanted to wash away the dust covered in disaster.

You called her, "Qing Box."

She didn't respond to you, but just shrank her body under the quilt, ashamed and timid as she stretched out her fingertips and gently hooked it in your palm.

Like a cat's claw, it scratches the heart and has thorns.

You held her hand, it was cold,Sweat in.

She writes:

"Tuji."

You seemed to be nailed, and you didn't dare to move, and just replied softly: "It's me."

She looked up at you, her pupils were amber, as if she had swallowed the moonlight.

The eyelashes trembled, and suddenly they held your hand and put it in your clothes.

Your heart pounded. Her heartbeat under her skin was thumping, jumping deep in the silk, like a little beast hiding from the rain. Your move to remove her wedding dress is very light, like a decree of destruction.

She suddenly opened her eyes, like a frightened cat, her ears were red, and she whispered to bite you, writing on your back with her fingers: "...Slow down."

You almost laughed out loud.

She obviously flirts with you first, but she still wants you to be slower.

She whispered, as if she was acting coquettishly and provocatively.

You pried open her clenched lips, swept the gap between her teeth with the tip of your tongue, and kissed her and gasped, and the wetness in your lower body had already surged.

She whispered and trembled patiently while biting her lips.

You bent down and put her earlobe in your mouth: "It hurts?"

She didn't say anything, just buried her in your shoulder, secretly licking you with her tongue.

Your throat choked, and it was as light as a cat licking, but it seemed like a fire was burning on your bones.

You called her softly, "Box." He leaned on the side of her neck, his teeth lightly bit her collarbone, and made a mark.

She let out a "hmm" sound, but her hand was still pulling you and pulling her under her.

The fingertips were wet.

Her whole body is like a soft petal of peach blossoms, wet by the rain, and it is slightly trembling and sticks to your palm, and it can't be peeled open no matter how hard it is to peel it.

As soon as you slid in, she hugged you tighter.

Sometimes you can't believe that such a beauty is your wife.

She is so nice, so beautiful, so intoxicating to the world, but you are the only one who can hear her breathing in a low voice, and can see her trembling with her fear and bit her lips and endure the pain and hold back the pain to hold your fingertips.

Only you can kiss her eyebrows over and over again, slowly bringing all the love she hadn't said for twenty years into your arms

It is your true wife, the order of parents and the words of matchmakers, which is tenable and natural.

Of course it's you alone.

You bent down and pecked the corner of her lips, and she let out a "hmm" - as light as the waves shaking, but it burned your bones so much that they were messy.

You know she is practicing meditation and never says a word.

Now she is still like this in your arms, shaking, her lips are breathing, and she doesn't say anything.

You refused to let her go.

"Speak." You coaxed, "I want to listen to you."

Her ears were so red that she dripped blood. She wanted to push but didn't dare. Her lips opened and she only let out a very light "um".

Like the first branch in spring, sprouting shyly.

You were tripped by this sound and your whole body sinks into her arms, like drinking strong wine, drunk.

She gasped faster, even her voice trembled softly, like honey wrapped in her throat. Before she could speak, she was replaced by breathing.

You call her: "Qing Box."

She said "um...um..." twice, but she couldn't speak the full words.

You bit her neck while smiling: "Case, am I unable to speak?"

She bit your shoulder, as angry as she was, and she didn't dare to answer, and she just hooked your waist with her hands.

You smiled softly: "...Don't be afraid, I will teach you this every day from now on."

The wind lifted the curtain outside the window, and the jade tripod stood behind the screen wall, holding the handkerchief to cover his mouth.

She cried so hard that she could not make any sound.

The red candle reflected the two people's lingering shadows on the window paper, moving and moving, as if cutting flesh in her heart.

She waited for a year and only got such a night of desertedness.

But you didn't look back.

There is only a green box in your eyes.

She is the only destination you are destined to be and your life is bumpy.

She didn't speak, but you know the meaning of every breath she said.

She didn't speak, but her softness when her eyebrows and eyes were lowered was better than all the love words in the world.

Who are the Jade Ding, Danxiao, Jiulian, Zhenzhen?

Don't know.

The green box is the only love sutra you can’t hear in your life, and the Buddhist verse you can’t kiss.