The pale face, squinty eyes, and the mottled old monk's robe swayed with the breeze above. The blood stains on the clothes had dried, and the mottled purple-black color almost covered the whole body.
He stared at the land beneath his feet, looking at the land where he once lived, grew up, and left his tears, sweat, and blood...
"Why?" At this moment, a trace of blood crept into Lang Fei's eyes. The experience two years ago flashed through his mind like a fragment. Yan Mo had grown up by then, and was no longer the ignorant boy he was when he was a child.
He understands that his teacher's kindness is like a sea, and he knows how not to give up or abandon... He is willing to be a witch and a beast just to save his master, no matter how slim the hope is, no matter how far out of reach he is.
Xiaoyun's eyes also turned red. She had never liked Yan Mo. This boy has always loved to take advantage of girls since he was a child, and he has always been against Brother Fei.[
But...but we have lived together for many years, and the small town is the bond between everyone. The so-called villagers, broken bones are still connected, not to mention that everyone is a childhood playmate...We cried together and laughed together.
We have been scared by invisible ghosts and ghosts, we have been scared together and we have been bruised and swollen. All of this, even after many years, even if we achieve immortality, it is difficult to let go and give up.
"Yes... it's Jinzhong Mountain!" Seeing Lang Fei's expression, Chu Hailan was also a little sad. Suddenly he noticed a row of writing on the bluestone not far away.
After her reminder, Lang Fei regained his composure and opened his eyes to see a line of large characters smeared with blood below the stone pillar.
If you want to save your parents, come to Jinzhong Mountain. If you don't come for one day, I will kill every person in your town until your parents are here! The Withered Pine Master is here to stay.
In the front, close to Yan Mo's body, there is another line of slightly smaller writing: "The mantis' arm is like a chariot, and it does not measure its own capabilities."
"Gold, bell, mountain..." Lang Fei clenched his fist loudly and spit out three notes full of hatred one by one.
"Boy Fei, there is someone on the hill to the north..." Fairy Qingxia suddenly said.
Hearing this, Lang Fei suppressed the anger in his heart, took a look at the Muniu Mountain in Zhenbei, and without saying a word, ran towards the mountain. Xiaoyun and others who fell behind also chased after him.
The last rays of the setting sun pierced through the clouds, shining on the hillside and on the fields covered with weeds. Three or two chaffinches flew by, and plunged into the continuous green of the hill like tired birds returning to the forest.
On the west side of the ridge, on the gentle slope facing the setting sun, there was a stooped old man with gray hair, holding a pickaxe in his hand, and he was lifting it with strength, planing, lifting, and planing.
Beside the old man, there are some scattered small grave mounds, piles of new soil and rust, green and tender grass. There are no tombstones, no inscriptions, just broken wood and tiles of different shapes, with some crooked carvings on them.
's handwriting.
Come to think of it, only the old man himself can understand it.
At this time, a figure suddenly fell from the sky. When the old man heard the direction of the wind behind him, he trembled slightly and turned his head to look behind him.
A pair of turbid old eyes went from numbness at first, to confusion, to surprise, then to sadness, and finally turned around tremblingly and knelt down on the ground with a "pop" sound.
When Lang Fei went over to help him, the old man was already in tears. He grabbed Lang Fei's hand and said, "You... are you Xiao Fei? Xiao Fei?"
"Third Grandpa, it's... it's Fei'er, the Xiao Fei who always likes to hold a bow and make the bells in front of your door clang!"
The old man held Lang Fei's hand tightly. "We...we, Qingniu Town, are in great trouble."
"I know...I know..." Looking at the pale and stooped old man in front of him, Lang Fei felt his heart cut like a knife. Thinking back to the past, the third grandfather always liked to sit at the front of the door and look out.
When Lang Fei and others came over, they would put on an angry face, but when they passed by the door, they would reveal a thick smile that couldn't be softened.
For the elderly, maybe they have a lot of time, maybe they are already half dead, and they may see their descendants growing taller and older day by day, which makes them feel as if they are alive again.[
"Third Grandpa... It's Third Grandpa..." At this time, Xiaoyun also followed, and then walked to the old man. Suddenly she noticed the numerous graves next to her, and her face changed involuntarily, and she said sadly: "This... this is...
…”
"Yes...this...this is the villager who was harmed by those thieves..." The old man struggled hard and pointed to the graves one after another around him. "This is Zhang Daniu's wife from the butcher shop at the corner of the street...
This is Lu Xiucai...this is the wife of the Su family who sells hibiscus cakes...this is...this is..."
Finally, he walked to the newest grave mound and said with a choked voice: "This... this is the little tiger..."
Every time he heard a name, Lang Fei clenched his hands tighter. Until he finally heard the name "Little Huzi", the nails of his hands were deeply embedded in his flesh.
Aunt Zhang, the proprietress of the butcher shop in Qingniu Town, the most common thing in her life is to snore and take a nap next to the chopping board. Lang Fei’s tofu shop is the closest to the butcher shop, and Aunt Zhang always likes to have a rough voice.
Showing off her so-called ability to choose words and form sentences. What about "This piece of pork belly can't be sold today, and it will be spoiled tomorrow. Little Fei, I'll give it to you since you're close to the water."
Lang Fei knew that the meat could not be sold, but Aunt Zhang had reserved a piece for him. Both of his parents died when he was a child. Although he had an adopted father and adopted mother, the villagers in the town were still afraid that he would be wronged.
, often trying to find ways to give him some food and clothing
There is also Lu Xiucai, although he is known as a scholar, he is a bad chess player. Despite this, he still has to compete with Mo Tie every day to discuss his chess skills. Strangely enough, Mo Tie is a blacksmith, but his chess skills are quite good.
.
Every time the two of them played chess, Lu Xiucai would only lose but never win, but he still enjoyed it, fighting and losing again and again. Every time he lost, he would take it out on Lang Fei. Instead of throwing him a book back
, that is, he was ordered to copy the Four Books and Five Classics. Lang Fei was still young at that time and did not know the benefits of reading and literacy. He often secretly cursed him to die early and be born early.
But today, when he saw the crooked word "LV" on the tiles in front of the grave, his heart seemed to be pinched hard. Once a teacher, always a father, he understood this truth. Although Lu Xiucai had never allowed himself to shout
How could Lang Fei dare to forget the kindness of his teacher?
He walked slowly to the old man, squatted down gently, and touched a handful of new soil that was still wet and greasy. Thinking of the scene of group fights when he was a child, Lang Fei wanted to laugh, but his mood turned into a face full of sadness. The little tiger was better than himself.
She is two years younger. When she was little, she loved to follow behind her, shouting that she was a big brother and wasted a short brother.
This kid is a typical stupid young man who follows Lang Fei's lead in everything. How many times have he fought with Yan Mo, even if the other party has bodyguards to protect the courtyard, as long as Lang Fei gives an order, this kid will always rush to the front without fear.
Two years ago, Lang Fei had briefly met him when he came back, but he didn't expect that when he came back this time, it was already time to say goodbye. It was said that he also had a beautiful daughter-in-law.
If he were still alive, he would probably call himself uncle.
Blood and mud fell from the palm of his hand. Lang Fei stood up and looked at the old man in front of him again with tears in his eyes. For an elderly person, the saddest thing in life is for a man with white hair to give away his black hair.
people.
For him, he didn't know why Jinzhongshan left him here alone. But the corpse of a fellow villager that appeared in the middle of the street every day was a heart-piercing injury to the old man.
No matter what, the dead always have to be laid to rest. Looking at the familiar but cold faces, the only thing the old man could do was to take a pickaxe and dig out simple graves one after another.
Every move of the iron pick brought up his sweat and his tears. While he was burying his feelings, he was also waiting for someone. Only that person could avenge them, give them justice, and give them justice.
These relatives of mine rested their eyes under the Nine Springs.
"The most pity is that boy Yan Mo." The old man sighed and said quietly: "A month ago, he went home to visit his parents, and this happened to him. He wanted to argue with Jin Zhongshan, but he was an old man and I couldn't stop him.
, finally let him end up like this."
When the old man said this, he couldn't help crying. "It's all my fault... It's all my fault that I can't even let him bury him in peace... It's all my fault... It's all my fault..."
"Third Grandpa, I don't blame you... it's all my fault, all this is my fault... I'm the one who caused you..." Thinking of these vivid faces in the memory, now they have all become cold and cold.
Corpse, Lang Fei could no longer hold back the tears in his eyes, and slid down his cheeks drop by drop.
This is the second time in his life that he has cried. The first time was because of Xuan Yu, and the second time is now. Xiaoyun had already cried so hard that her eyes were blurred with tears. Chu Hailan was admonishing softly on the side, and Fairy Qingxia was even more angry.
Ruchao, the hand holding the Qingping Sword tightly was trembling slightly.