"Hey, brother, eat!" The drunkard also took a big sip and poured a large glass of white wine into the pestle.

The pig's eyes were like a catalyst that instantly turned into energy, and the pistle felt that his entire body had become a bottomless pit with a whirlpool. He was no longer inhibited, grabbed the cup and drank it down.

"Good! good amount of wine!" the fat man exclaimed, and filled it again.

Wine and meat pierce the intestines, the pestle is drunk, and the eldest brother and brother of the drunk man are short, and they hate to see each other late. The two talked about their own place, sometimes hugging their heads and crying, and sometimes crying at their desks.

I don't know how long it took, pop, the pestle was vaguely hot on the face, hot.

When he opened his drunken eyes, the wind on the table was whirlwind, and the fat drunk man opposite had long since disappeared.

"Damn, pretend to be drunk, I don't have any money to eat white food!" someone scolded viciously, and several vicious men stood tall and surrounded him......

"Smack!" hurts, and it's a ruthless big mouth.

The pestle covered his cheeks and staggered, and lay reclining beside the smelly swill ditch.

He lay down for a long time, did not move or speak, rolled the whites of his cloudy eyes like a white-haired chicken with his neck wiped off, and had no strength to struggle.

He only felt that his body was empty, as if he had fallen into hell and died.

"Damn, forget it, a cripple, can't do it, drag it aside to save the eyes. Someone scolded impatiently.

The pestle did not struggle at all, and was dragged across the swill ditch and thrown on the side of the road.

He gasped heavily, his face cold and numb from his knees, and he lay motionless, just like that.

I don't know how long it took for him to have some strength in him, and he got up and stumbled forward. As he walked, he fell in a whirlwind.

He felt that he was out of his body, and he was no longer able to breathe. I had to lie down on my back and wait for the end of my life.

The pestle lay down and began to dream again......

He was holding a pair of chicks, yellow and shiny. Gan Tiantian came out of the building materials factory with the flow of people, and he followed with a shy face and smiled: "Okay, I'll send you!"

"I can't eat it again!" Sweet Sweet didn't roll her eyes.

"I'm looking for fun. "The pestle caresses the chick lovingly.

"Play, can it be a meal?" Sweet Sweet's little chest bulged. The pestle looked uncertain and obliquely slanted.

There are a lot of people off work, and I don't know who will carry his back elbow. The two chickens fluttered and fell to the ground with their fluffy wings.

The pestle hurriedly leaned down to find it, where are the chickens? In front of him, he only shook his trouser legs one by one, stepping on iron hooves!

"My Chicken ......"

The pestle screamed out in a hurry, and opened his eyes suddenly. Look left and right, it's pitch black all around.

He couldn't see anything, and the sound of a coffin was creaking in his ears.

"It's over, it's really over this time!" muttered.

...... Alas, it's better to be dead...... He felt like he should have died a long time ago. So I endured a severe headache, closed my eyes and lay down again.

"What's the movement?!"

The creaking outside stopped, and a man's voice held its breath with disbelief.

"Don't get distracted, get it, it's all right......"

A woman's voice was indistinct, panting and urging.

"it!" the man scolded, followed by a whirring of his pants.

"Squeak one by one!" the man slammed the door in a panic.

"Hey, I haven't paid yet...... Damn, what the hell...... Alas!" the woman cursed and sighed.

The pestle lay on his back, and his heart said, "Dead people also dream?"

He felt pain in his body, and he wanted to turn over.

"Bang", there was a sound on the wall, and a bright light above his head was so dark that it was a light bulb!

The pestle was dizzy, and the shadow was too slow for a long time.

"Brush", followed by the sound of a curtain being drawn. After a few clicks, a voice approached him.

He was still thinking about it, when suddenly his ears trembled, and a woman's voice exploded above his forehead: "Really good wood-burning stove!"

"Ugh!"

The pestle was startled, rubbing his eyes vigorously, and his eyes were blurry.

After a long time, a pale face appeared in front of him, without a trace of blood!

Looking at it again, the two eyes on the white face were black as if they had been smeared with pot ash, and the red lips seemed to have eaten someone.

"Oh!"

The pestle thought it was a ghost, but he wasn't too afraid, but now he felt that people were more terrible than ghosts.

He opened his eyes wide and looked closely, and it turned out that it was not a ghost, but a woman with heavy makeup! This woman could not tell her age, but the corners of her eyes were like brooms, and she could sweep the floor.

"What are you talking about?" the pestle didn't hear the woman's words clearly.

The woman rolled her eyes, her eyes yellow and red, "What did I say? I said that good people are not rewarded!"

"Oh ......" the pestle lay down again, and under his hand grasped the damp sheets.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and sure enough, he was human! Only then did he conclude that he was not in the coffin.

When he opened his eyes again, it was a small house, with a very low and broken ceiling, covered with old newspapers, and the corners of black and yellow paper hanging in a mess.

The woman looked at him with a face full of disgust: "What's the matter, it's still on it, get out when you wake up!"

"I ...... Eldest sister, where am I?" asked the pestle.

"Who's your eldest sister?

The woman's mouth was very scathing, but she couldn't hide her tiredness.

The pestle opened its mouth awkwardly and couldn't close it for a long time.

There was also a bed behind the woman, very tattered and lame, with half a brick cushion. Presumably, the creaking sound just now was a divine groan.

"Alas!" the woman glared at the pestle and sat down with a sigh.

A flowered nightgown was crumpled, and the two shriveled breasts were mostly exposed, hanging lifelessly.

She stared at the pestle for a long time, and said slowly:

"I don't have any money, I still drink, and no one cares if I die outside. I'm not relentless, I'm afraid you'll die at my door......"

The pestle endured the pain and got up, and the bed board creaked for a while, "Sister, you saved me......"

The woman ignored him, got up and poured a glass of water on the broken table in the corner of the room, and handed it over.

The pestle took it, his eyes were full of tears, and he drank it all.

He wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his dirty hand, put the cup on the table, limped to the door, turned around and said, "As long as I don't die, I will come back one day!"

After saying that, he opened the door and left.

"You ......" the woman raised her hand to say something, but finally her hand slowly lowered......

The pestle walked on the street in a trance. After experiencing this drunken dream and death, there is no direction to live at all.

However, he felt that he couldn't die for the time being, so he had to find a chance to repay this kind eldest sister.

But he didn't know that someone was thinking about him at this time.

At midnight, the lights were still on in the office of the village committee of Qingshan Village.

Yang Jiaxing, the village head, buried his head in the lamp and counted a stack of bills, and the cigarette butts between his fingers had already burned out but he didn't know it.

At this moment, there was a sudden sound of wind howling outside the house.

"Whew-w-"

The wind is sharp and eerie, and it is eerie and makes the scalp tingle.

"Click!" the door moved suddenly.

"Huh?" Yang Jiaxing subconsciously raised his head and looked out through the glass, and there was nothing outside the door.

"This ghostly wind!"

He scolded and buried his head again, but the moment he lowered his head, a human face seemed to be clearly reflected on the door.

"Uh......" Yang Jiaxing's heart tightened, and he quickly looked up again, but there was still nothing.

But he didn't have the heart to settle the account anymore, threw the cigarette butt and stood up, paced back and forth with his coat on, and said to himself with a frown:

"It's a great thing for the villagers to have a mine under the village......! This demolition work is really difficult......"

Yang Zheng groaned, and suddenly the door "squeak-quack!" and a gust of wind struck him, interrupting his train of thought.

"Damn, this wind!"

Yang Jiaxing couldn't help but shudder, and walked towards the door while scolding......