Maybe he was really too tired. Sima Yang hadn't woken up since he came out of Aunt Zhao's house. He hung on my body and snored asleep. He only occasionally rubbed his eyes and looked up.
He fell asleep with his head down.
Wandering from the street to the end of the street, and then from the end of the street to the street, until it was dark, Sima Yang still didn't wake up...
After being tired all afternoon, I "faced the loess and turned my back to the sky", lying prostrate on the stone road, spreading out in the shape of "da". Sima Yang, who was in no particular direction, was pressing heavily on my back like a big mountain.
Ouch...I feel so uncomfortable...I can't even breathe...
I gasped for air, used all four limbs, and struggled desperately to climb out, but Sima Yang was like Mount Tai, pressing on my back, motionless.[
I squirmed hard under Sima Yang's body and made a weak cry for help: "Help..."
Just when I was about to be flattened and turned into a piece of Indian flying pancake, the pedestrians passing by finally noticed my existence, and moved Sima Yang away from me with a "Hey, hey, hey," and pulled me away.
Rescued from Sima Yang's "Five Finger Mountain"!
"Thank you... thank you..." I sat on my knees in embarrassment, with my hands on the ground, breathing heavily. Thinking of how I was almost crushed to death, tears kept pouring out and falling down.