But annoyance usually does not last long, because Chen Shiliu does not only take advantage of him verbally, but really treats him as a son.

One year, Changgeng suffered a serious illness, and Xu Baihu was not at home as usual. The doctors said it was dangerous, and it was also the adoptive father who took him home and kept him for three days day and night.

Sixteen Every time I go out, no matter how far or near, no matter what I do, I will bring some small snacks to Chang Geng. Chang Geng doesn’t love gadgets, but he must love this heart that always keeps his mind in mind.

In short, when Chang Geng sees Sixteen every day, his liver fire will be extremely strong, but he will not be seen and he will always be concerned.

Chang Geng sometimes thinks that although he cannot hold his shoulders and cannot lift his hands, and cannot be successful in his literature and martial arts, he will not be able to be fooled in the future and will be the one who is fooled to like him?

The little adoptive father will always get married and have children in the future. So if he has a biological child, will he still worry about his recognition?

Thinking of this, Chang Geng couldn't tell what he was doing. He found a square box on the Sixteenth table, briefly threw away his forehead and thought about it, and gave it to Chen Shiliu with no interest: "This?"

Chen Shiliu: "I will open it for you."

Maybe it was a slingshot or a package of cheese. Anyway, there was nothing serious about it. Chang Geng took it apart without expectation and scolded him: "I have to save some money even if I have enough money, and I'll say again..."

The next moment, he saw what was in the box clearly, closed his mouth, and his eyes suddenly widened twice.

There was an iron-fist buckle in the box!

The so-called "iron-fist buckle" is actually part of the light armor in the army. It is only a circle around the wrist, which is very convenient, so it is often removed and used separately. The iron-fist buckle is about four inches wide and can hide three to four small knives inside. The knife is made of special craftsmanship, as thin as a cicada's wing, also known as "sleeves in the sleeve".

It is said that the best sleeve thread is cut out by the machine spring in the iron wrist buckle, and the hair that is several feet away can be divided into two.

Chang Geng said in surprise: "Where did you get this?"

Chen Shiliu: "Shh-Don't let Chen Yi hear it. This is not a playful thing. He will talk about it when he sees it - can he use it?"

Mr. Chen himself was watering flowers in the yard, but he didn't hear it. The people in the room could hear clearly, but he really had no choice but to use this half-deaf who judged others by himself.

Chang Geng learned how to disassemble the steel armor with Chen Yi and skillfully put on the iron-fist buckle, which made him realize the special thing about this thing.

It is not easy to make silk in sleeves, and there are very few people. Most of the iron-fist buckles on the market are old goods from the army. The size is of course the size of an adult man. However, the one brought back by Chen Shiliu is obviously thinner, which is just right for young people.

Chang Geng was stunned. Chen Shiliu knew what he was going to ask. He said slowly: "I heard from the seller that this is a defective product. There is no other problem. It's just that the size is a little smaller and no one cares about it. It's so cheap that I sold it to me. I'm useless. You can just play with it, just be careful and don't hurt people."

Chang Geng was rarely happy: "Thank you..."

Chen Shiliu: "Who are you thanking?"

Chang Geng shouted happily: "Entertainment Father!"

"If you have milk, you are a mother, you're a bastard." Chen Shiliu smiled and sent him out with Chang Geng's shoulder. "Go home quickly, don't sway outside in the middle of the night in the ghost moon."

After hearing this, Chang Geng remembered that it was July fifteenth.

He walked back to his home along the corner gate and stepped into the door. The moment he stepped into the house, he suddenly felt that the part of Chen Shiliubo was a little familiar. Although he ran out of tune, he carefully recalled it and found that the tune of "Sending the West" when people cried and burialed graves.

"Is it suitable for the situation?" Chang Geng thought silently.

Chen Shiliu saw Chang Geng away, looked for a while, and then he could barely see the outline of the threshold and carefully walked over and closed the door.

Mr. Chen, who was waiting in the yard, reached out to hold his elbow expressionlessly and led him into the room.

Mr. Chen: "The best iron-fist buckle with black iron, the three sleeves inside were beaten by Master Qiu Tianlin himself. Since the master died, it has become out of print... a defective product?"

Sixteen did not respond.

Mr. Chen: "Okay, don't pretend to be deaf and dumb to me - do you really want to raise him as your son?"

"Of course it's true. I like this child, benevolence and righteousness," Sixteen finally spoke out, "That person probably means that-if he can really adopt this child to me in the future, those people will be relieved, and his own life will be much better. Wouldn't he have both?"

Mr. Chen was silent for a while and whispered: "First of all, you have to make him not hate you - are you not worried at all?"

Chen Shiliu smiled, lifted the door and entered the room with the hem of his robe.

He said with a mischievous look: "There are so many people who hate me."

During this night, the river lanterns flowed on the night, and the soul returned to its hometown.

Before the fifth day of the day, Chang Geng woke up in a hot body, with a thin layer of sweat stuck to his back spine, and his underwear was wet.

Every teenager will experience such a panic when he is about to grow up - even if someone is guiding him in advance.

But Chang Geng was neither panicked nor at a loss. He reacted lightly. He just sat on the bed for a while, then got up and cleaned up casually, with a little undetectable disgust on his face. He went out to fetch a bucket of cold water, scrubbed his body from head to toe, took off the neatly folded clothes by the pillow and changed it, drank the tea for the night and started the day's homework as usual.

Chang Geng doesn’t know what others are like.

But he actually didn't have any spring dreams. What he dreamed of was a heavy snow outside the pass that could freeze people into a coffin.

The wind that day was like white hair, ruthlessly surging. Before the blood in the wound had flowed out, it had already condensed into ice residue. The roar of the wolves went from far to near, but the failed sense of smell could not smell the fishy smell of blood. Once you inhale, you would choke in a mouthful of salty and sweet bone-broken cold air. Chang Geng's limbs were stiff and his lungs were burning. He thought he would have no bones in the snow.

But no.

When Chang Geng woke up again, he found himself wrapped in a cloak and walked away.

He remembered that the man's collar was white and there was a distant and bitter smell of medicine in his arms. When he saw that he woke up, he didn't ask anything, but just took out a wine pot and gave him a sip of wine.

I don’t know what kind of wine it was, but Chang Geng never tasted it again later. He only remembered that the burning knives outside the pass were not as strong as that, like a ball of fire, rolling down his throat, litting blood all over his body in one bite.

That person is sixteen.

The dream is too clear. The hands that Shiliu held him seemed to be still pressed against his body. Chang Geng is still puzzled. Isn’t that person a sick person? How could he have such stable and powerful hands in such a terrible ice and snow?
Chapter completed!