The little bug screamed and fainted. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

He was so dizzy that he had no image, and directly threw down the little girl who opened the door. The child's cry alarmed the father inside the door, and the cautious man trotted out, picked up the fainting little worm, smiled apologetically at the old man opposite the door, called out to the child to follow, and then walked into the building with the little worm in his arms.

After a while, the red-eyed little girl leaned out of the door, tiptoed up a wooden sign that read "Closed today", glanced at the old man on the opposite side of the door in fear, moved her steps, and quickly trotted into the door, slammed the door shut, and made a loud bang.

The fried dumplings in the old man's pot were fried loudly, and a mushy smell came out, but he was unmoved, still smoking a cigarette and drooping his eyelids, and swept the movement of the door for a while.

There was no movement to the door.

The old man finally couldn't bear it anymore, knocked on the cigarette pole, got up and put away the dumplings that had been pasted in a pot, without any regret on his face.

The pedestrians on the street talked and laughed, and they all dispersed and disappeared, and the lively long street became quiet after a while.

"Shut up—" he shouted, his voice old and long, the bell striking the iron pot in a rhythmic sound.

At the same time, on the eaves around the satin village, several figures appeared in the black, each of which was as silent and swift as a swift passing low across the eaves, lying low and lurking in place quickly.

"Shut up the stall—" the old man shouted a second time, and the spatula in his hand struck harder. He didn't seem to see the movement on the eaves of the opposite house, and he raised his hand to smoke the hookah again, and closed his eyes and exhaled a circle of white smoke with enjoyment.

The dark shadow that lurked quietly on the eaves seemed to have received the same command, and leaped down, and dived straight into the courtyard of the silk village.

There were no fights, no shouts. The old man paused as he cleaned up the spatula, his brows furrowed, and he suddenly worried about the participants in this operation.

The door of the silk village opened silently again.

Out of the door came a little girl with pigtails, innocent and cute. She carefully ate the sugar gourd in her hand, smiled at the old man, and said obediently: "Grandpa, Daddy, please let you get started." ”

The old man glanced at the dumplings in his hand.

He has been doing business for most of his life in the opposite door of this silk village, frying dumplings for most of his life, not only deceiving tourists from other places, but also selling stale ingredients, and he is still known for his violent temper on this street, and few people can cheer at the bowl of dumplings he made.

Only the guy from the silk village opposite is kind-hearted, and he comes over from time to time to buy two bowls of noodle soup, which can be regarded as helping this old man who is not good in his old age.

So the old man made his home here, just like all the old men in the streets and alleys of Weijing, who were not going well in their old age, and looked at the crowd in front of the silk village with a vigilant and detached gaze.

This business is not his real vocation.

The reason why he sells dumplings here is only because there is a silk village opposite, and the owner of the silk village is a relative of the emperor.

The operation failed.

The old man couldn't think of any other reason to let the Wei family's secret guards turn into the courtyard, but there was no reason to make a sound.

Maybe the time has come.

He smiled slightly, put down the spatula that everyone thought he regarded as a treasure in his life, threw it away at will, regardless of whether the fire was extinguished or not, put one hand behind his back, raised the hookah pole with the other, and took a puff with his eyes closed and intoxicated.

He was ready to die here with his comrades.

But how harmless this child was to humans and animals, he came up obediently and tried to hold him by the hand, but the old man threw him away unreasonably.

Niuniu showed a hurt expression and almost cried again, but she remembered her father's words, held back her tears, pouted, led the way in front, and opened the door of the silk village for the old man.

The door was only ajar, and it was still dark inside.

As soon as the old man stepped through the door, he smelled the thick smell of blood in the air, mixed with a rancid smell, and his intuition reminded people of bad memories.

There were dead people in the house.

The old man's face remained unchanged, and he walked forward with Niuniu. Obviously the room was extremely dark, but the little girl seemed to be able to see things at night, and took him around, stepping over the toppled and broken tables and chairs, stepping on the abacus scattered all over the ground, brushing away the silk cloth hanging in the air, and even touching a short downward-sloping tunnel to a more spacious place.

The old man's unchanged expression finally changed, only he knew that this place was a secret pile for the informants of the Wei family, and the cover up outside was extremely secretive, if it wasn't for the leakage of insiders, ordinary people really wouldn't have found this place.

He raised his eyelids, glanced around, and found that under the dim light, there were seven or eight people lying around, I don't know whether they were alive or dead, looking at the clothes, they were all colleagues who were familiar with the old man, all of them were guys and miscellaneous people in the shop, and there were some people in the corner who couldn't see clearly, probably the secret guards who had failed to infiltrate before.

The old man's eyes stayed on the little insect that was tied up by the five flowers for a while, and then looked towards the center of the cellar, only to see that where the scattered light was concentrated, there was a good pear wood Taishi chair, the chair was empty, and there was a man kneeling in front of him, who should be the father of the little girl, at this time he bowed his head and arched his back, not daring to look at the empty chair, which seemed to be very respectful.

Who is he bowing to?

The old man frowned, and before he could think carefully about who else was worthy of this mysterious man to bow down to, he saw the little girl standing beside him grinning, licking the candy in her hand, swaggering past the old man and the kneeling man, and sat on the central Taishi chair.

Niuniu sat on the Taishi chair, the whole person looked petite and exquisite, picked up one foot and stepped on the chair, leaned back on the chair, supported her chin with one hand, raised the sugar gourd in her hand with the other, and stared at the luster of brown sugar with joyful eyes.

The man kneeling in front of the Taishi's chair trembled even more, obviously extremely afraid of the Niu Niu sitting on the chair, and the old man couldn't help but be stunned when he saw this scene.

"Grandpa, you say, when a person dies, will he be resurrected?" Niuniu flipped her wrist, turned the sugar gourd that she had bitten in a different direction, looked at the brown sugar coating on the other side, and said with a smile, "You don't believe it, do you?"

"How can a man be resurrected when he dies? The old man exhaled deeply, and his face looked even older.

Niuniu's face bloomed with a very treacherous smile, it seemed that everything was in her chest, she hummed a song, ate all the sugar gourds in her hand one by one, threw the bamboo sticks stained with brown sugar in her hands at will, and stretched her hand back.

From the shadow behind the Taishi's chair, a pair of miserable white hands stretched out, and respectfully handed over a sugar gourd, which were as pale as the hands of a dead man, and slowly emerged from the darkness along with his master, it was the face of a middle-aged man, described as withered, and his eyebrows and eyes drooped, as if he had not woken up.

It's just that the black and purple face, no matter how you look at it, makes people feel abnormal, with a slight grunt, a snow-white chrysalis burrowed out of the man's black, rotten cheeks, raised his head high, and his small black eyes seem to be staring in the direction of the old man.

After the old man saw the face of the person who handed the sugar gourd, his lips trembled tightly, and he subconsciously wanted to flee from this place.

That's the owner of the Silk Cloth Estate.

The owner of the cloth village has been dead for a long time. (To be continued.) )