I was awakened by the howls of fat and thin men.The moon was half obscured by the clouds, and the night was covered with fog, and a bush of gardenias in the backyard was trampled by some savage force.Under the eaves of the kitchen stood a pile of torn and moss-stained tiles.The fat man and the thin man shrank in the corner of the wall in horror, and the thin man drilled hard behind the fat man, pushing and pushing, and said: "Fat is delicious, fat is delicious" I straightened the crooked nightcap on my head, and looked carefully at this behemoth standing in the open space in the backyard A lion.Alive.Standing less than three meters away from me, its huge body with the lines of the most perfect sculpture in history, calm and steady, immobile as a mountain, its long mane fluttering in the night breeze, low-key in the regular ups and downs of the king of beasts and unruliness.The lion's fur, the color of gold, filled my eyes.The turbid night still can't diminish its brilliance, if the day is changed, the sun is shining, and the big guy in front of him will be so much attention.In the eyes of me, a gold-loving and possessive dryad, it wasn't a lion, it was a breathing, moving nugget.The lion's eyes were more enchanting than the most lustrous obsidian I had ever seen, a thick layer of black, with a swirling power that seemed to suck the soul of anyone who looked at it into the bottomless void.As a fairly well-informed dryad, I've seen countless strange people and objects, but I still have to admit that even I was a little stunned this time.A beautiful lion, a color as dazzling as gold, eyes as black as jewels, hey, it is, etc., and whatever its origins, my "non-stop" is just a dessert shop, and I have no intention of turning it into a zoo.My shop only welcomes guests who come to taste desserts and drink a cup of floating tea, not a lion, or a reckless lion that falls from the sky in the middle of the night, smashes the tiles of my house, and tramples on the flowers of my house, and the "solidified" lion suddenly shakes its head, and the golden mane is like the sun that radiates light.It seemed to take a deep breath, its gaze locked on me, and then, step by step, it approached me.The lion's face became clearer and clearer, and I could even see my reflection in its eyes.Bursts of hot air came out of its mouth and nose, burning my skin slightly.The feeling of being approached by a live lion is neither fun nor romantic.I couldn't tell its true intentions from its sub-zero eyes, only a layer of anxiety in a dangerous cloak, and a certain longing.It's getting closer and closer to me.Behind him, the thin man with his head was howling: "Boss, you hold on, let's help you hit 110, 119 and 120" The moon was completely engulfed by the clouds, and the only light in the sky was gonet1706231537: