Joy City

Author: Mo Ying · Mingling
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: Fans of chasing Mingling's works even call themselves "reading only Mingling on the" or "Mingling's articles grew up with me." In Baidu searches, pages related to Mingling number in the dozens, and search tags related to Mingling frequently appear. Fans of chasing Mingling's works even call themselves "reading only Mingling on the" or "Mingling's articles grew up with me." In Baidu searches, pages related to Mingling number in the dozens, and search tags related to Mingling frequently appear. Joy City (also known as Immortal City), a work completed after four years, has a network popularity and fan base of over ten thousand, with reviews appearing everywhere in Baidu searches. Readers who love this work have even drawn the main character's illustrations, written extra stories, and fan fiction for it. Joy City is incredibly rich in layers, with characters or being uniquely novel, and its concept being so wondrous that it is rare in China as a fantasy work. It blends the sense of ascending time and space with the concept of parallel universes, where not only humans but also demons from the depths of the human heart live in the same place. They are real, and the children favored by death walk between the demons and humans, their love and killing, their eerie, cruel, and fragile emotions. In Mingling's writing, they are so vivid and terrifying, like the cold sea rushing in, awakening the thirsty souls sleeping in the midnight hours. Let's count them together! How many years of have appeared in Joy City! The medicine is here, and breathing becomes painful. Looking up, I see dust slowly settling in the air. This is the second year I have known him, and our fingertips have never touched, yet the once overwhelming emotions, once thought to be indelible, have been washed away by the silent flow of time, turning into a dark blue, empty shadow. One by one, like the light touch of a cat, empty, pressing over my heart, softness turning into brittle, thin transparency. My cries, even my desires, are scattered by the wind. If I still have sorrow, I let it go without hesitation. Our expressions are all smiles, forming sweet, familiar, and brilliant glows, but they lack heat, not enough to ignite a firework. He still sleeps in the same city as me, in that clear illusion, in a world that is understood yet unreachable. The one who locked me up is free. Letting myself be washed away by time until my lungs are transparent, a thousand soft petals bloom from my body, bathed in the warm sunlight every day. The connection between positive and negative is just as I know you are there, never leaving. You are here, but unrelated to me. My love, thank you for building this city that borders heaven and hell with me. Thank you for making me fall at the boiling point of pain and the freezing point of love, full of joy. I am truly full of joy. I never expected to be full of joy, as if a wind blows, stirring the door of an unknown family on the fifth-floor corridor, making a thumping sound. The eerie emotion seems about to burst out, as two masked, burly men hold weapons swaying pale light, abducting her somewhere. In the cold, she imagines kissing him in the elevator, hiding in his black, warm cloak, her hands reaching out to his skin, then tightening. Ding, the elevator stops at the fifth floor, her thoughts interrupted. Just like the inside of the elevator, it is empty, with only the flickering soul of a seven-year-old boy in the silver-gray iron wall. He jumps rhythmically,、、, expressionless, his eyes without pupils, all the same color. Before, she had met him several times. He always liked to crouch in narrow, dark corridors, sighing out long, hollow breaths. No wonder people say this building has an inexplicable aura of darkness, as cold as falling into a deep well even in the heat. Everyone can feel it, but not as completely as she does. She was born with the ability to commune with spirits, knowing she lived in a city inhabited by. 7th floor. The boy without pupils spoke for the first time. "Hey, you." "What?" "I know you can see me." "Yes, I can see you." "Stay with me."