The neighbor boy was originally strong, and he didn't want to kill the white-haired weasel, but he suddenly had a high fever, and he fainted within two days, and it was useless to take injections and medicines, but his face was so thin that he collapsed, and his hair was white on the top of his head, like the weasel. A few days later, the people went completely crazy, so they had to lock in the firewood room. Lao Hao has always been worried that there will be weasels asking for his life, so he asked his father for some money and went to his relatives in Shanxi, and since then he has studied hard and stayed up for more than ten years, and has become a second-hand poet of the sorrowful school, and made some money by compiling books, and has nothing to do for a few years, so he returned to Shenyang, and is considered to be homecoming. Pen fun and pavilion www.biquge.info

Lao Hao's story is only told so that the stars and the moon are dull, the wine is cold and tasteless, looking at Ah Chao who has fallen asleep on the table, a chill swept over his heart. I was about to stop Lao Hao, but it was too late, and the words I didn't want to hear had fallen out of his mouth, clinking and shattering.

Old Hao took my hand and knocked on my eardrum with his red eyes. "Xiao Zhu, I am from Orion, I have more than a dozen weasels in my hands, the smell on their bodies, I can smell them a mile away, I can't be wrong, listen to my brother's words, there is something you can't see in the house, but I can smell it, move it early." “

After that day, I didn't see Lao Hao again, and a few months later, he contacted me, saying that he was no longer in Shenyang and couldn't come to Beijing, so he gave me a phone number from Shanxi and asked me to remit 2,000 yuan, and hung up in a hurry. I called the phone in Shanxi later, and it was a blind tone.

But that night's memories of Lao Hao were in the winter at the end of the ninety-five, at that time I was at a loss except for being at a loss, if Lao Hao drank four months earlier, the course of all the stories would change, I wouldn't pay attention to the waste tank in the courtyard, Wu Nan couldn't afford a pager, Shijie wouldn't fall out with the bookseller, Li Chan wouldn't go to Shanxi to relax, I wouldn't give the developer that nervous idea, and I wouldn't hide in Wutai Mountain...... Perhaps, everything that happened in Shanxi became sunny because of the flapping of butterfly wings, but the assumption is just that the Grim Reaper knocked on the door four months late, but I want to make a fateful beginning for the ghost affairs of Jinnan twenty years later.

Lao Hao's story made me and Ah Chao return to Beijing the next day, the courtyard was as quiet and peaceful as ever, and the leafless jujube trees still had tough fruits, which were getting more and more shriveled. I'm going to open the jar, the abandoned black clay jar in the southwest corner of the courtyard, and I'm going to realize the secret hidden in it. But about the cylinder, please let me pull the time back to April 95, in the warm spring sun, Ah Chao was whistling in the courtyard, Shijie and I were smoking, admiring the curves of Lichan Miaoman in cool clothes.