Xiaolan and Jasmine waited quietly for Lao Liu to tell him something even scarier, but Lao Liu didn't want to go into details and just waved his hand and left.
"Since you said that, let's go ask the old lady Huo Yu." Xiaolan looked at Jasmine, and the two hit it off immediately.
Lao Liu quickly put down his trousers and rubbed his hands on his clothes twice, "I'll lead the two masters."
Jasmine glanced back at him, "Aren't you afraid of the old lady?"
"There's nothing we can do about it," Lao Liu sighed, "I'll take you two to her house and leave. I won't go in."
Following Lao Liu, the three of them walked back to the village chief's house.
Only then did Xiaolan notice that there was a dark, short house next to the tall and spacious courtyard of the village chief's house. The house seemed to be stacked up of rotten wood that had been soaked in rain. The small house had holes everywhere, and the roof was also in the 70s.
It's so bad that it doesn't look like anyone is living in it.
"Is it really possible to live here?" Jasmine stood at the door of the small courtyard and poked her head in.
"Normal people definitely can't do it," Lao Liu muttered, "That's why we say she is a witch... Masters, please take your time and watch, I'm leaving first."
After saying that, Lao Liu turned around and ran away as if he was fleeing.
The two of them looked back at the yard. A flower tree on the right side of the dark room had withered into dry branches. In front of the flower tree were neatly arranged farming tools. After being exposed to wind and rain, they were definitely no longer usable. The yard
The large open space in the center has been covered with green weeds. If no one lives here, anyone would think it is just an abandoned old house.
It was obviously a slightly hot weather, but when they stepped into the small courtyard, a slight chill suddenly enveloped their bodies.
"Grandma Huoyu?" Xiaolan tried to shout first.
No response.
There was not a sound in the hut.
"squeak--"
The wooden door was decayed, and the sound it made when it was opened was jerky and unsmooth.
The light in the room was dim, and dust was flying everywhere. Xiaolan lowered his head and coughed twice, and began to search for traces of living people in the room.
There is a small living room at the entrance. Although it is narrow, things are placed in an orderly manner, and it looks like a living room. Especially when compared with the old house where I live, I instantly feel that the place I live does not feel like a human place.
Facing them was a small dark corridor. Passing through this dimly lit corridor, a wooden door appeared on both sides. Xiaolan and Jasmine each opened one. On the left was a bedroom, and on the right was a wooden door.
Fully equipped kitchen.
In the bedroom, the bedding and pillows were neatly stacked at the head of the bed, covered with thick dust, and the original color of the fabric could no longer be seen.
The kitchen is filled with the smell of food decay, not too heavy, but very present. There are several fruits that have shrunk and turned black on the oval dining table. Time seems to have stopped here for several years, until today.
Restart.
The two of them looked at the quiet and empty kitchen and realized something was wrong at the same time.
Walking out of the kitchen, there is a wooden door at the end of the corridor. The upper part of the wooden door is inlaid with bamboo shutters. The shutters are open, and a faint light shines through the shutters, illuminating a small area in the corridor.
Xiaolan walked to the door softly and looked through the blinds.
On the other side of the door is a log terrace. There are dark gray curtains hanging down from the roof, blocking things on the terrace. The curtains flutter in the wind, and the sunlight continuously shines into the terrace through the gaps in the curtains, and then shines in through the blinds.
gallery.
At the edge of the terrace, there is a yellow wicker chair. The wind blows, and the wicker chair is swaying gently with the wind. When it is swayed towards them, they can vaguely see someone sitting in front of the wicker chair, with silver hair under the quilt.
The wind blows, it's peaceful and quiet.
"This is Grandma Huoyu," Xiaolan said, staring at the figure passing by on the wicker chair.
"Aren't we going in?" Jasmine asked, grabbing the handle of the wooden door.
Xiaolan stared at the back for a few seconds, thought for a moment, and nodded to indicate to Jasmine that she could open the door.
"Creak——"
The opened wooden door stirred up dust, and the two closed their eyes and waved.
"Grandma Huoyu?" Xiaolan shouted softly at the back of the rocking chair.
No response.
The two approached.
Her silver hair hung obediently on the edge of the wicker chair, and Grandma Huoyu's face was tilted to one side.
Xiaolan turned to the front of Huoyu.
The coarse linen clothes had lost their color, and the clothes were empty. The arms exposed in the half sleeves had become like dead wood. Under the silver hair, the old man's face was almost like a skeleton, and his eyes had become two dark holes.
Jasmine pursed her lips and frowned in thought.
"Grandma Huoyu...has become a mummy."
The lonely old man became a withered corpse amidst the vigilance and isolation of the whole village, and the loneliness brought by the gauze curtain rolled up by the wind day after day.
The end of this strong-willed former village chief, this solitary "witch man", has long come.
The two were silent for a while, then went out to catch up with Lao Liu who had not gone far. After telling him the news, a complicated expression appeared on his face.
Shocked, thinking, and a little relieved.
"Old Madam Huo Yu has died a long time ago?"
Xiaolan nodded, "Looking at the body, it must have been gone for a long, long time."
The first thing that Lao Liu thought of was not how Huo Yu died, but that the murderer who killed the village chief seemed to be someone else.
Xiaolan asked, "How old is Grandma Huoyu and how is her health?"
"She had only retired a few years ago and was in very good health when she was still in office."
"Nothing serious?"
"No," Lao Liuyi waved his hand, "That's why she was quite reluctant when she retired."
"Then how could he die?" Xiaolan muttered in a low voice and looked at Jasmine, who also questioned this.
"Master Qiuyuan is young and may not know," Lao Liu smiled kindly, "Old man, even if there is no illness or disaster, he may die suddenly. We elderly people always have such moments, right?
,Master Fengmu.”
He said and looked at Jasmine.
Jasmine was stunned and pointed at herself, "Ah? I'm not that old?"
Lao Liu nodded with a playful smile, "Master Fengmu is young at heart. Look at us, a peasant family of about the same age, half of it is already buried in the ground."
Xiaolan almost couldn't help laughing. She looked at Jasmine and told her with her eyes to "pay attention to the character, pay attention to the character."
Huo Yu's clues were cut off, so Xiaolan and Jasmine could only follow Lao Liu to the madam's house again and ask her if she had any information about the murderer.
The corpse of the village chief had been brought to the altar where the two men were said to have practiced their daily routine. The wife was lying alone and half beside the wooden bed in the east wing room. Seeing the arrival of the three people, she sat up lazily.
Xiaolan saw that the makeup on her face was not slack at all when she was taking a nap, and her hair was not messy. She sighed in her heart that this might be the self-cultivation of a beautiful woman.
"Is Madam's health feeling better?" Xiaolan asked sincerely.
The lady raised her eyes and glanced at Xiaolan hastily. After saying "OK" lightly, she focused her eyes on Jasmine.
"Two masters, are you ready to perform rituals?"
"The ritual is not urgent, we will discuss it tomorrow," Jasmine unceremoniously sat on a chair next to the bed, "Let's ask, Madam, do you have any opinion on who the murderer is?"