At that time, Song Wenjing only saw it as a piece of news. Because it involved this city, he paid a little attention to it, and at the same time he remembered the name "123 Cases".
It wasn't until today, when Yi Ping mentioned it again, that he remembered the matter.
It's a pity that he couldn't say many things to Yi Ping because he couldn't justify himself and could only choose to hide them silently in his heart.
He could only express sympathy for Zuo Changlin's experience. But no matter how resentful you are, you can't kill your whole family, especially if there are innocent children among them. This is not just resentment, but evil inside.
The seeds took root and sprouted.
If such people are not punished, society will become even more indifferent between right and wrong.
Song Wenjing was not in the mood to have dinner, as his mind was still recalling everything he had seen.
After many years, the memory has long been blurred, and there are only some fragmented memories. Song Wenjing decided to go to the scene to have a look in person, maybe he could find a way to help the police, and at the same time, he could deceive himself about knowing the specific truth.
Otherwise, he really couldn't explain to his cousin how he knew that Zuo Changlin was hiding in the well. He couldn't tell Yiping that someone had asked him to dream, that would be too nonsense.
If you want to do it, then start taking action.
The next day, Song Wenjing pulled the cart and set off for Zuojiazhuang.
The distance is not very far, and both villages fall under the jurisdiction of Chengguan Town. When Song Wenjing arrived at Zuojiazhuang, it was only around 8 o'clock in the morning.
At this time, most people have already gotten up and had breakfast. Those who have work have gone to work, and those who have no work stay at home. In the winter, there is no work in the fields, so they can only stay bored.
At home, make a brazier or something.
"Collect old items, old books, newspapers, scrap iron, copper and aluminum!"
After Song Wenjing entered the village, he started shouting.
He had been to Zuojiazhuang twice and was quite familiar with it. Many people were also familiar with Song Wenjing. This was because this young man collected rags without hesitation and never lacked anything.
"Trash collector, why is there another old thing collector now? I've never heard you shouting like this before!"
Beside a section of the wall, a few bored men were sitting in the corner with benches, doing their homework.
"Uncle, you can support your family. If you can charge more, you can also make a little money. The Chinese New Year is coming soon, who doesn't want to eat dumplings?" Song Wenjing responded enthusiastically.
"Haha, this kid is quite funny even though he is a rag collector."
The uncles didn't know if they really thought Song Wenjing's words were funny, or if they were distracting him. Anyway, idle time was idle, and finding someone to make fun of was also a way to pass the time.
"Uncle, don't just talk without practicing. If you still have any old items at home, take them over and have a look. Maybe you can exchange them for a lot of money."
Although I came here to inquire about the situation, business still needs to be done. If I can receive something good, it is not worth the trip.
"My family is so poor that even a mouse would not want to spend the night at home. If you ask me what good things I have, why don't you take me away? Hahaha..." One of the old men continued to joke.
"Uncle, you are doing a good job in business. If I take you away, I will have to support you in your old age. Otherwise, you will still have to rely on me. You see, I am almost twenty, and you have a granddaughter at home.
, why don’t you introduce me to me, maybe we’ll see each other. You’ll really become my grandfather.”
Just kidding, Song Wenjing is very eloquent now and is not afraid of these guys at all.
"Young man, we old guys are all poor, haha. You don't have to expect anything good from our family. You can go to Zuo Zongming's family in Group 6. Their family was a famous rich man decades ago.
Maybe I still have some things saved at home.”
One of the old men pointed out a direction to Song Wenjing and also told him how to go.
Song Wenjing really didn't expect that there would be unexpected gains from joking with these uncles. So he quickly thanked him and walked towards the road pointed by the uncle. As he walked, he shouted at the same time.
In less than ten minutes, we arrived at the house the uncle mentioned.
"Collect old objects, old books, newspapers, scrap iron, copper and aluminum!" Song Wenjing deliberately raised his voice and shouted several times into the house.
"Rag collector, what are you always shouting at my house?" A middle-aged man walked out of the door and looked at Song Wenjing warily.
"Uncle, are you Zuo Zongming, right? I collect old things, as long as they are old, I will collect them." Song Wenjing quickly took out his cigarettes and handed one over.
Looking from outside the gate, Zuo Zongming's family has obviously fallen into decline. There are three mud houses, and the small windows are covered with old newspapers, making it difficult for sunlight to shine in.
Probably because of the murder that had just occurred in Zuojiazhuang, Zuo Zongming's eyes were still full of vigilance.
"Who did you hear say my name? Who told you what old things I have in my house?"
"Your family used to be a famous rich man. No one in the village knew about it. I inquired a little and others told me. Uncle, don't worry, I have been to our Zuojiazhuang several times. You should have heard of me.
Yelling!"
Song Wenjing continued to hand over the cigarette and greeted the other party politely.
This time Zuo Zongming did not refuse and took the cigarette, "Young man, look at what my family looks like now. How does it look like a rich man? Don't listen to those people's nonsense. That was all decades ago.
.I remember back then..., hey, I won’t mention it anymore, a good man won’t mention his bravery back then.”
In fact, when Song Wenjing came over and saw the dilapidated appearance of Zuo Zongming's house, he knew that there would probably be nothing to gain. But he still didn't want to give up, so he deliberately got close to him.
"Uncle, as the saying goes, no matter how little food is left in the emperor's family, ordinary people can survive for a year with just a few things. If you think about it again, maybe there is something missing." Song Wenjing continued to ask.
In fact, at this time, Song Wenjing had already made plans to return empty-handed. Picking up leaks was unlikely to happen frequently, and it was considered good if it happened once or twice a year.
But now is the 1980s, and everyone has different perceptions, so Song Wenjing still has a glimmer of hope. If Zuo Zongming refuses again, he will have no choice but to walk away.
"Hey, when I was young, there were indeed a lot of good things at home. But later, they were all taken away. Even my old man's red sandalwood bed was chopped into pieces and became disgraceful. Forget it, my house
If there is nothing, please leave."
After saying that, Zuo Zongming seemed to be recalling the past, feeling a little sad, and planned to go back to the house and ignore Song Wenjing.
As soon as he spoke, Song Wenjing was shocked in his heart. The big red sandalwood bed!
"Uncle, please stay. Just now you said you have a large red sandalwood bed. Is it still there? I can charge you a high price!"
"It has been chopped into firewood a long time ago. Where is the big bed? Do you want the wood? If you want it, I will sell it to you. You can find a good craftsman and build a few chairs or small tables. My grandfather was still alive at the time.
At that time, I was reluctant to throw it away, saying that I could get a lot of money in exchange for it.”
This is the lack of knowledge, the lack of knowledge.
In Zuo Zongming's view, only rosewood made into furniture is valuable. He himself also knows that a large rosewood bed is more valuable, but he does not know that even if it is split, it is still rosewood. Even if it turns into chips
, all have certain utilization value. It’s just that the value has been discounted.
Zuo Zongming specifically mentioned that the remaining wood can be made into chairs and tables, which shows that there is still a lot of material. It's just that he doesn't know how to use it himself.
As the saying goes, an inch of red sandalwood is an inch of gold. It does not have value just because it has been made into a bed and then chopped up. This depends on whose hands it is.
"Hey, it's a pity. Uncle, you are knowledgeable at first glance and know the value of a red sandalwood bed. If the whole bed is really expensive, it will definitely not be sold for a big price if it is chopped up. So, uncle, you
Move it out first, and I'll take a look. If there are still a few chairs left, I'll take them. I'll try my best not to suffer a loss in terms of price."
Song Wenjing pretended to be sorry, while still boasting that the other party knew what he was doing.
But if you really know how to do it, why would you take the split red sandalwood so seriously?
I guess I heard the elders in the family mention it and knew that the red sandalwood bed was valuable, so that's why they said this.