Four.

Dependency is a terrible thing. It took me two years to learn to be completely independent in everything, but after only a few days of spending time with each other, I realized that I had developed a great psychological dependence on this kind of 'person' who didn't know how to define it.

I can't describe what it was like to see him suddenly appear in this terrifying darkness.

It was as if the blood in my whole body had suddenly returned to normal operation, and my limbs had regained their temperature, and when I looked up, I could feel the slight coolness of the summer breeze, the slight smell of the soil, and the noise of insects and pheasants lying dormant in the fields.

Where is the dead silence of the original graveyard?

This space that had just besieged me like a thriller scene, came back to my senses, and it was just an ordinary night in a small mountain village.

He's like a magician, isn't he?

Of course, this kind of subtle psychological change, I can't let the young man see it.

The disparity between life and death made it impossible for me and him to intersect to any extent except for a brief period of cooperation. Moreover, how could such a person full of legendary and mysterious powers perceive that an insignificant human being beside him, prompted by the push of fate, has quietly and imperceptibly transformed from fear to unease, and then from uneasiness to admiration, and even to dependence.

He must not be made aware of it.

So I quietly watched him turn off the car and walk towards me, and I pointed behind me with a little regret: "I wanted to invite you to come in and sit, but I forgot to bring the key here when I came out, so I ...... tonight."

Before I could finish speaking, the door creaked behind me, announcing the sound of it opening.

The locked door was not a problem at all.

I sneered, turned to the door, and pushed it open, "Would you like to come in and sit down for a while?"

He never told me where he had gone or what he had done since he left today.

He looked a little tired, though.

This was quite obvious as early as when I crossed Beiwen Mountain, but it didn't turn into a substantive performance at that time.

The physical manifestation is that half of his body has returned to the state of a skeleton.

Fortunately, he drove all the way over, otherwise, according to his unscrupulous temperament, if he walked on the dark path of the mountain village, he would have scared a few lives all the way.

But when I entered the house, he didn't immediately repair his body with the painting I had prepared for him, but asked me to get him something to eat.

I'm a little embarrassed.

The house had been uninhabited for two years, and there was a lot of cobwebs and dust, but there was no ready-made food to feed him.

Fortunately, I finally found a few packets of instant noodles from the wall cabinet in the kitchen, and the bags couldn't shake off the dust, so the date was already unclear. I don't know which year, thinking that it is not easy to deteriorate with preservatives, so I boiled some boiling water and soaked two bowls, handed one bowl to him, and the other bowl was served in my own hand.

The Underworld is not disgusted. It's just that when he scooped up the first chopsticks noodles, he glanced at me with the black hole hole on his left side: "Beitang, you are really not particular." ”

I was stunned.

I thought he was only looking at food as a way to replenish energy at best, and he didn't pay attention to it, but it seems that I was wrong. "But there was nothing else to eat at home. So I explained.

"Even if it's called instant noodles, it's better after cooking, and even if you don't have anything else to eat at home, there's always a pot. ”

He spoke slowly and methodically, as did his posture when eating. So dashing that one can completely ignore the eerie appearance of his half-skeleton.

So I laughed again, and perfunctory the truth that I didn't want to wash the pot with silence.

The young man still didn't mind, but asked again while eating: "You should have washed this bowl." ”

"Washed. ”

The answer was a little weak, and he naturally heard it: "Then why don't you eat." ”

Half skeletal and half beautiful face, there is a kind of knife-like sharpness between the silent expressions.

I couldn't continue to prevaricate in front of such a face, so I could only sigh and say frankly: "Because the dish soap has been put for a long time, I don't know if it has expired, I am not you, I am afraid that I will eat bad stomach." ”

"It's honest. ”

I couldn't hear the emotion in my voice, but half of the skeleton faced me, and I couldn't speak.

After eating the noodles, the right half of the face of the young man, who was still intact, showed a little human color.

While he was resting on the couch, I went upstairs to clean up the two bedrooms.

The two rooms, one for mine and one for my grandmother, lived in when she was alive. She hadn't been back for two years, and her portrait had accumulated a thick layer of dust, and I looked at the face on her photo as I wiped it.

She died fifty years ago, and the photo looks very young, with braided cloth and braids, and a pair of big, bright, dark eyes, as if she is telling me something.

In the past, when I looked at this photo, I didn't feel much of it, but now it seems that it is a bit mixed. Thinking of the recent encounters, I suddenly feel that life is like a play, and these four words are really real that they have never been before.

Since Sister Qiu Mei's death, how long has it been, and a well and a mobile phone have made me experience so many unprecedented things that I thought would only happen in movies. In less than a month, it is better than the experience that others can't catch up with in several lifetimes. What an unfortunate life, but when you think about it, how fortunate you are.

By the time I finished cleaning up and went downstairs, I had already repaired his body with my drawing.

He stood in the empty living room, his head hung and stared intently at the few pictures pressed under the glass panes of the dining table.

The photos are very old, and they were all taken before I was in elementary school.

At that time, my parents were still young, and the number of three in the family was still neat, smiling and feeling happiness in my hands.

Now, the photos are all there, but I'm the only one left. I walked up to the young man and looked down at the photos for a while, and found that my father's appearance and my memory have not changed much, but my mother's appearance, if I don't look at the photos, I can't remember it at all.

She has a fair melon seed face, crooked eyebrows, and when she laughs, her eyes are like crescents, and there is a tenderness that makes people want to approach.

But this tenderness is no longer to be found in my memory.

It has been said that when a person disappears until he is forgotten by the last person in the world who knows of his existence, that is true death.

So for me, Mom is really dead, and this kind of death is not the same as Dad.

Is there any sadness? It seems to be a little bit there.

But she left so early that over the years, I had grown accustomed to her absence.

Just as I was looking a little distracted, I heard the young man ask me, "Where is your mother?"

"She's been gone for a long time. ”

"Deceased?"

I hesitated and nodded, "Yes." ”

"You look like her," he said, turning his head to look at me with a thoughtful look for some reason, "but in a way, it doesn't look like much." ”

I know what he meant.

I inherited my mother's facial features, but I also inherited some of my father's tough lines, so I look very similar to my mother, but I don't like it. That's why I rarely wear skirts, and the mom in the photo is wearing a different dress for each one.

If you just look at the photos, you will think that she is a person who has lived in a big city since she was a child, and at that time, there were not many varieties of clothing, and each of those skirts was particularly beautiful.

She must have been a very modern person when she was alive, but she married such an honest and somewhat wooden man as my father, and lived with him in this isolated and backward land. So when I was in elementary school, she suddenly divorced my father, and when I was in junior high school, she ran away from my grandmother's house, and she disappeared, and many people said that she might have passed away.

So all my memories of her are not as clear as the past when I summoned the Snow Bodhisattva to heal my illness.

Thinking about it, I couldn't help but be a little gloomy, and in the silence that arose, I saw the young man of the underworld walking to the side, as if he had first come to my rented house, and opened the cabinet very casually, and looked inside.

“...... Isn't it rude for you to do that? Despite some hesitation, I gently reminded him.

He turned his back to me, and his fingers moved slowly in the relatively clean cabinet: "You already know the main purpose of my trip, why should you be polite or rude to me." ”

I would like to say this is my home.

But after thinking about it, it was useless to say, so I gave up.

The son of Hades once said that the reason why my father was able to escape the curse of Hades Well for an extra fifty years was because of something that my grandmother Qiu Xiaoxia brought out from the bottom of the well.

It belonged to Hades, and he thought I could help him find it. After all, it was stolen and hidden by my grandmother, and she had never been out of the village in her life, so the only place she could hide it was where she used to live, or somewhere my father and I knew.

As soon as he arrived at the entrance of the village today, he said that he had something to leave, maybe he was looking for something like that.

It's a pity that it didn't work, so now, presumably in his eyes, I should be the only clue to find something like that.

Therefore, it is normal for him to openly search this house now. Besides, I hope to help him find it as soon as possible, after all, it is the only thing that can last me for fifty years other than an effective way to lift the curse of Hades.

So after looking at him silently for a moment, I suggested, "It's unlikely in the hall, maybe you should go to my grandmother's room and look for it." I remember my dad talking about the two locked boxes under her bed, probably holding something she always valued. ”

"I'll check it out. ”

"If you're going to rest tonight, you'll be in that room, the second one upstairs. I've cleaned it up. ”

"Good. ”

A simple one-word answer left me with nothing else to say.

Fortunately, the person did feel tired at this time, so I beat my waist, and planned to leave him and go upstairs to rest first.

But as soon as he turned around, suddenly the overhead light flashed, and suddenly it dimmed as if it had burned a filament.

It wasn't completely dark, because the filament didn't burst after all, so it barely maintained a little visibility.

I subconsciously walked back, and before I could get close to the Underworld, I heard a sudden whining sound outside the window like a typhoon.

The whistle-like sound flickered around the window, circled around the door, and then stopped in front of the door.

"Bang!" At the same time, the door was slammed by something.

"It hurts......" Someone cried outside the door.

The voice was sad and mournful, like a lonely and poor man, who was firmly held by a hand by his throat, and in the faint and silent light, he emitted a vague and gloomy □□: "...... Help me...... It hurts...... It hurts......" 166 Reading Network