Jiang Xiao had a nightmare again, dreaming that those people in white coats pounced on her with a fierce face like a hungry wolf seeing a lamb.

She panicked and frightened, struggled desperately, and retreated step by step.

Then, I don't know who pushed her violently, she stumbled and fell from the ninth floor, her brain bursting out, and her flesh and blood blurred.

That's her, thirty years old.

With such a tragic death, he ended up being deceived and used by others, framed by others, harming others and himself, and living like a fool for the rest of his life.

Jiang Xiao couldn't help crying.

She hated, hated those people, and hated her own stupidity even more.

The plain printed door curtain was hurriedly opened, and someone walked in quickly, and said in a stacked voice: "Xiaoxiao, what's wrong? Are you having nightmares again?"

Jiang Xiao felt that his dancing hands were being held, and those hands were calloused, but they were extremely warm.

She opened her tear-misty eyes and saw a familiar face with anxious worry and distress written on it.

Thin eyebrows and long eyes, short hair with ears, and three black hairpins on the side, there seems to be a touch of sorrow in his eyes all year round.

Jiang Xiao trembled and shouted, "Grandma?"

Grandma sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her distressedly, "Don't be afraid, grandma is here, my little girl can sleep well." ”

What's going on?

Didn't my grandmother die of a heart attack in the late summer when she was thirteen?

At this time, Jiang Xiao saw his hands.

The arms are slender, the skin is white, so thin that you can see the blood vessels, and there are some black marks between the nails, which look a little dirty.

In any case, it could not be the hands that she later drew well, which were the hands she remembered.

Jiang Xiao was in a trance for a while.

Isn't she already dead?

was pushed down from the ninth floor and fell into a blur of flesh and blood, how could it be possible to survive?

"Grandma. "I didn't expect that the first person I would see after I died would be you." Grandma, I died an ugly death, but fortunately I didn't come to see you like that, otherwise you would have been frightened by me. ”

The Jiang family's grandmother, Ge Liutao, was startled when she heard this, her eyes welled up with fear, and she felt a thrill when she looked at Jiang Xiao, who fell into a coma again.

She sat down again, put Jiang Xiao's hand into the quilt, and then walked out gently.

Jiang's house has three rooms, one hall, out of the hall is a small courtyard, the courtyard wall is one meter high, is a loess wall.

The courtyard is square, the gate is facing the hall, there is a yellow fruit tree on the left, the tree is fenced with stone slats, the corner is piled with chopped firewood, and the right side is built a chicken coop. The courtyard wall here is shared with the next door, and next door is the old Jiang family, where the eldest brother of the Jiang family's grandfather and his family live.

It was in the afternoon, Jiang Xiao's grandfather Jiang Songhai was squatting in the courtyard, turning over the herbs that had been dried before and continuing to dry.

At the beginning of spring, the sun is not fierce, and these herbs can only be dried for two hours at noon, and if they rot, they will not be sold for money.

Ge Liutao stood under the eaves of the hall and whispered to him.

"Uncle Hai, come here. ”

Here is the seniority, Yihua is good at Uncle Guoshu, Jiang Songhai is quite big in the village, he is a Chinese generation, and many older than him have to call him uncle, Ge Liutao is a junior generation, he is a brother, and he called him Uncle Hai before marriage. This title continued until after marriage, and this age has not changed.

"What are you doing, didn't you see that I'm busy?" Jiang Songhai didn't reply, and continued to be busy with the work in hand.

"Tiny ......"

As soon as he said Xiaoxiao, Jiang Songhai immediately stood up, turned around and walked into the house, and asked a little nervously: "What's wrong with Xiaoxiao? It's burning again? I'll take a look." ”

Ge Liutao grabbed him, glanced next door, and asked in a low voice, "The older generation said that there are ghosts in the stream below the mountain, is it true?"

Jiang Songhai was bluffed, and said angrily: "Don't talk nonsense!"