C39 Deprivation

The Buddhist dust extended to my waist and flung me out.

The old man's laughter abruptly stopped, and a flute sound rang out in the distance.

Buddha's whiskers continuously whipped me, suffering the torment of my soul, the pain of thousands of arrows piercing my heart.

I reached out my hand and grabbed it. The buddhist dust that was about to fall, I tore it apart