Zhang Qing passed by a cemetery that day.
He was a little nervous, but there was still a hint of excitement, and the steps under his feet were fast.
Unexpectedly, a coffin stopped in the middle of the road.
He had to stop.
The coffin in front of me was painted with shiny black paint. The paint can still show some blue light at night.
Zhang Qing clutched his undulating chest and walked around the coffin.
But unexpectedly, there were several coffins in front.
Each is a few meters away, lying quietly in the middle of the road.
Zhang Qing cursed in his heart, evil!
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But you still have to go forward. Finally, another coffin was bypassed.
This coffin was not covered, and Zhang Qing saw a beautiful girl sleeping inside.
Without even thinking about it, Zhang Qing smiled and crawled in.
There was a clap in the coffin, and the beautiful girl got up and pointed at Zhang Qing and shouted: “Dead hooligan, take advantage of me!”
Zhang Qing froze for a long time without making a sound.
Some people crawled out of those coffins one after another, all looking at Zhang Qing with accusing eyes, and some people were holding cameras secretly recording everything that happened here.
The girl looked at the camera and said angrily: “Look, everyone, there are always people who use the most despicable means to destroy performance art. Why doesn’t he have a little understanding of art? “
The camera turned to Zhang Qing.
Zhang Qing scratched his hair embarrassedly, and whispered: “My son just said he burned a good coffin for me, and he also took a little beauty by the way. I thought it was this. As for the vice coffin, don’t you just lie down? I didn’t expect to lie down on the wrong side.”
Everyone was stunned. Only the person with the camera was terrified.
Because, in the lens facing Zhang Qing, there is no one except the background at night.