My grandfather said that our Wu family has been selling knives for a living for generations, and when I came to my father, he sold knives to his name. I am famous not because of how good my family's knives are, but because my grandfather's knives are surprisingly weird.

My grandfather never sold knives in the village, even if someone came to buy a knife, he didn't sell it, and directly told people to sell the knife in the big market, which was much better than mine. My knife, don't buy it, you want to buy it at a starting price of 10,000.

People in the village said that my grandfather's knife would definitely not be sold, and my father could still make money.

My grandfather took nine knives out every time he went out, and when he went out with the knife on his back, he deliberately exposed the handle of the knife. Let people see him going out with a few knives. Every time I come back, I bring a bunch of things, many things that the people in the village have never used, only seen them on TV, and the prices of those things are not low, and the people in the village are wondering, how did my father sell the knife for so much money?

I remember someone asked him: Are you a knife man on credit?

My father sneered: What does a knife man do on credit?

After my grandfather's words got out, the people in the village said that he was too crazy and even looked down on the people who took the knife on credit.

But I don't think my father is too crazy, but he really hides some secrets.

Knife sellers have to cut the blade of the knife first, and when my grandfather is sharpening the knife, he has to give the grandfather three sticks of incense.

I've heard people say that the ancestor who sold the knife was the blue-faced beast Yang Zhi, and the ancestor who sharpened the knife was the emperor immediately. The ancestor I worshipped was not these two people, but an old man in a blue cloth coat. From the portrait, it is not clear which dynasty the old man is.

What's even more strange is that my father always kicked me away before sharpening his knife, and even if he had something to do, he had to stand three steps away and talk. He said that it was not good to have too much on the knife. But his own popularity is not on the knife? Why is my popularity not good?

My grandfather is very particular about sharpening knives every time, when to sharpen the knife, where to sharpen the knife, and what kind of knife to sharpen.

I have observed it a few times, and I can probably get a glimpse of the pattern of his sharpening of his knife, if he sits on the edge of the well and sharpens it, the knife must have a piece of wood inlaid with a handle, and if he sits by the stove and sharpens his knife, the handle of the knife must be inlaid with jade;

During the day, he usually did not sharpen his knife, but at night he sharpened his knives in a variety of ways, and on two occasions I saw him sharpen the blades of wood, and on another occasion I saw him sharpening there with a broken bowl. The strangest thing he did was to grind the leg bones into the shape of an axe.

I asked him what you were grinding, and he said that this is what the guests wanted, and I had to grind it like that.

I came up with a sentence in passing: the guest also has a problem with his brain. As a result, my father was scolded.

Later, something happened in the village, and I found out, what did my grandfather do?

In the summer when I was 10 years old, a stone tablet full of strange characters was opened from the cliff of the village.

The general stele is standing on the ground, but the stele is embedded in the cliff, except for the side of the stele that sticks to the ground is inserted in the soil, the other three sides can clearly see the gap. It looks like someone has dug a hole in the mountain wall and blocked the opening with a stone tablet.

No one could figure out what was going on with the stele, let alone what was written on it, so they reported it to the county.

After the county sent people down, many people in the village ran over to see the excitement. My grandfather didn't want to go, but he let me drag it away.

When my father and I went to the mountain, we heard someone say, "This is a dragon stele!" Legend has it that if the dragon veins in the mountains and rivers are unstable, an official must come forward to write a sacrificial text praising the dragon veins and engrave it on the stone tablet to praise the dragon king...... This stele is of great research value. ”

I was listening intently to the man's words when my grandfather said: "JB's dragon monument, don't drag others if you want to die." ”

The person who spoke was dressed like a cadre, and when he heard my grandfather scolding, he was immediately unhappy, and he was about to open his mouth to scold. The old man standing next to him saw that it was my father who spoke, and a smile immediately appeared on his face: "Brother Wu, are you in this village?"

The old man seemed to know my father, so he took two steps away from the crowd and came to my father: "Brother, what do you say is strange about this stone stele? ”

My grandfather glanced at him: "That's the Soul Monument, don't move." If you move, something will definitely happen. ”

As soon as my father finished speaking, the cadre who spoke just now: "That old man, do you know that you are preaching feudal superstition?"

My grandfather turned his head to look at him and didn't say anything, but my grandfather's eyes clearly didn't take him seriously. The man's face suddenly couldn't be hung up: "Don't go, go back with me and explain the matter clearly." ”

The old man hurriedly went over to pull him, and when he saw that he couldn't hold it anymore, he hurriedly shouted: "Don't mess with him, he has a knife beard." Hang the beard of the dead man's knife. ”

The old man saw that the other party didn't understand, and said again: "It's the Giant Beam of the Sky and the Mountain Dragon." ”

"It's a beard, so you have to ask clearly...... "The man called very happily, but he didn't dare to really stop my master."

Beard is the bandit of the Northeast, who was rampant in the Northeast before liberation. I heard that my grandfather is bearded, who is not afraid? The eyes of the people in the village have changed when they look at my father, and as soon as we two go out, they will make way for us, and they will not dare to look at my father directly.

My grandfather didn't pay any attention to him, and took me home directly.

There is an old man in the village, who was a mustache when he was young, and he blew himself into the sky, and he told me that there are four beams and eight pillars in the bandit's locks, and the second beam is called the top beam in the sky, and it is the bandit with the highest martial arts, the most accurate marksmanship, and the most daring to play with his life!

In the black language, the dragon does not mean the dragon, but refers to the strong wind blowing in the mountains in winter, the wind comes together, the snowflakes follow the wind like a white dragon churning on the mountain, the wind passes, only the white snow is left on the mountain, and the grass is gone. Those who dare to tattoo a mountain dragon on their bodies can control the scene single-handedly,

My grandfather is a mountain dragon. He didn't even mention it?

I tried to ask my grandfather several times, but he blocked him.

As soon as my father came from the mountain, the cadre was about to take down the stone tablet in the cliff embedded in the mountain, and the old man couldn't stop him. In the end, he made a crack in the edge of the stele.

On the day the stele was lifted, everyone present heard a strange laugh at the same time, and the laughter seemed to come from behind the stele, and the sound of it made goosebumps rise on people's bodies.

Those people were so frightened that they hurriedly moved the stele back, but those cracks poked out a big Louzi in the village.

The day after they erected the monument, the stream that flowed down the mountain flowed out of the red water, and it looked like someone had poured blood into the water, and the water was so red that the dead fish washed down several layers, and the white flowers were floating, but the fish's eyes were red, and they rolled their eyes as if they were dead.

Although the people in the village didn't know what was going on, no one dared to pick up those fish, many people panicked, the old man dragged the cadre who raised the stone monument to come to apologize to my father, the two of them pulled at the entrance of the village for a long time, and the person didn't come. The old man came to my house by himself, but my father didn't let him in, so anxious that he stamped his feet outside.

That day, I learned that the old man's surname was Wang.

I could see that the old king was very vague about the cadre at first, and when he floated down from the dead fish, he turned his face, saying that he would not let the man go, and insisted on leaving him in the village.

That night, something even more terrifying happened.