It was like a sudden crack, shattering inch by inch, and becoming a painful expression. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

He lowered his head slightly, and the whole person was hidden in the darkness. No one could see the change in the expression on his face, and he stood there, through the darkness, still the same young and ruthless commander of the Zhenyi Division.

The young man became famous, gloomy and vicious, and he was a living Yama in the eyes of the world.

It is said that he is cold-blooded and ruthless, and he doesn't even blink an eye when he kills. The blood splashed on his face was just another peach blossom mole on his face.

In the dim light, Xue Huaijian raised his hand and rested on the stone lantern. The stone lantern was still cold, and even if there was a candle flame burning inside, there was no heat coming out.

His long, bony hand rested quietly on top, his fingertips rubbing against the rough underneath. But the stone has obviously been polished repeatedly, why is it still so rough?

The edges and corners are gone, and the whole body is sleek, but it is still as rough as ever.

He slowly raised his hand and put it on his face.

The eyebrows and eyes behind the palms gradually calmed down, but the inner fluctuations were still like huge waves, and they were not at peace at all.

He clenched his teeth suddenly.

- The first time he killed someone, he was the same, clenching his teeth so desperately that he didn't dare to relax for a moment.

To this day, he still remembers every moment, every gasp.

But at that time, how old was he? eight years old, nine years old, or ten years old? He vaguely remembered his age, but he forgot his birthday, forgot his origin, and there was no way to verify whether this age was true or not.

He only knew that he was still a child at that time.

Young and helpless, but he has already understood the truth that the law of the jungle is the strong, and you will die.

The moment his adoptive father shoved the knife into his hand, he knew that he had fallen into the abyss and could no longer escape.

The knife was so cold that it stuck to the human skin, and it could almost emit a cold air visible to the naked eye. His fingers gripping the handle of the knife tightened little by little, and then loosened little by little, over and over again, but he couldn't get used to the feeling of holding the knife.

It's just a small knife, but when you hold it in your hand, it weighs like a thousand catties.

It was so heavy that it almost broke his wrist.

He heard his father's voice whispering in his ear, "If you meet an enemy, you will die a thousand times."

The voice seemed colder than the knife in his hand, but he knew clearly in his heart that his father's words were not false at all. If the person standing in front of him now was a man with good hands and feet who could walk and move, he would have died by now.

He had a weapon in his hand, but hesitated for too long.

A person who hesitates and can't make a decision will not live long.

He finally gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the hilt.

This time, it was never let go again.

The middle-aged man who was tied to the chair by his father-in-law widened his eyes and whimpered and begged him for mercy, but his father-in-law urged and urged behind him.

His hand stiffened as he held the knife.

The legs and feet are also stiff.

The other party couldn't move, but he had a sharp weapon in his hand.

The father-in-law suddenly coughed and said sharply, "Do it!"

With a "poof", the knife pierced into the flesh.

He still remembered the sensation of hot blood splattering onto his hands, scorching like flames, as if the next moment it was going to set him on fire and burn him to ashes.

At that moment, such a sentence came to his mind - human life is just a mustard.

His is his father's, and so is the dead man who is tied to a chair and can't even struggle.

Thousands of people in this world are all mustards.

It's just killing, whoever can't do it, will die first.

But why, after all so long had passed that day, he still remembered the man's terrified eyes, as if as soon as he closed them, those eyes would appear before his eyes.

Even if so many people died at his hands......

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his hand.

But his fingers trembled uncontrollably, and he couldn't hold the knife at all.

He lifted his feet and walked in the direction of the path, step by step, against the night breeze and the scent of flowers, walking slowly but steadily.

He knew in his heart that he was no longer the kid who didn't dare to kill with a knife in his hand. Now he is a powerful minister in the palm of the Zhenyi Division, and he will no longer be stunned by the blood splashed on his hands, and he will no longer widen his eyes because he sees a dead person.

He is not afraid of anything.

Don't be afraid of anything.

Really, not afraid of anything!

He jerked his trembling left hand with his other hand, but it refused to calm down.

Damn it.

He was chilled, and his feet were getting faster and faster, and when he reached the bottom of the porch, he suddenly slammed his fist into the wall. There was a "bang", and a sharp pain came from the back of the hand.

But the sound of breathing calmed down because of this.

The pain in his hand made him sober and calm.

The walls were stained with blood and looked like just an annoying stain in the night.

Xue Huaijian looked at it, suddenly laughed, and said with a cold sneer: "Stupid." ”

He turned and left the corridor.

In the depths of the trail behind, there are lights on, shining brightly, like the sun is burning.

Jiao Xuan stayed alone in the room, closed the door tightly, put down the snake head crutch in his hand, walked to the water basin on the side, and carefully cleaned his hands.

One finger, another finger.

Every one of them is washed clean.

His man is old, but his hands still look very young. Because of the proper maintenance, at first glance, it looks like a woman's hand.

The skin is fair and smooth, and there is not a single spot on it.

The fingers are also slender and slender, and they are very dexterous at a glance, and they are afraid that some people believe that they are the fingers of the embroidered girl.

He washed again and again, and finally pulled his hand out of the cold water, then grabbed the handkerchief next to the basin, and slowly wiped off the remaining droplets of water on his hand.

His movements were so gentle.

His eyes were so focused.

The constant chill from the huge ice cubes placed in the four corners of the room did not make him frown. On the contrary, the overwhelming cold made him relax.

After a while, after drying his hands, Jiao Xuan threw the handkerchief on the desk, turned around and walked towards the long table in the middle of the room.

The table was one man long, more than an arm's length, and the color was yellowish and white, and I don't know whether it was wood or stone.

One has to walk closer to see the material of the table.

There was a man lying on the table, naked, naked, I don't know if it was cold, his skin looked particularly pale.

Jiao Xuan walked in front of him, squinted his eyes and opened the box on the side.

The box contains all kinds of knives, different widths, different lengths, and even different thicknesses.

He grabbed a handful with ease, and slashed it at the man lying on the long table.

No screaming, no struggle, not even much blood.

The man lying on the table was a dead man.