"Lang Jun, it's almost there. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info" The voice of the burning qin came, with a little caution.

"Hmm", Huan Zicheng slowly opened his eyes, answered, and lifted the hat.

The ox cart had stopped in front of a shop that was in tatters and was so inconspicuous that if it weren't for the big "iron" on the door, I was afraid that others would think that the shop was closed.

Immediately she jumped out of the car, gestured to the mute slave, and walked into the shop.

Huan Zicheng also got out of the car slowly, but he didn't enter the store, but waited outside the door.

After a while, he saw the burning qin come out again, bowed down and said: "Lang Jun, the old fire is inside, he said that the hammer has been laid, please Lang Jun go in and see." ”

As he spoke, he uncomfortably dusted his sleeves, and his little face fell to the ground, looking not very happy.

No wonder he doesn't like it.

This shop is indeed dirty, not only broken, but also a large hearth lit inside, burning so that sparks are spraying indiscriminately, and the four walls are blackened.

However, that was before after all, wasn't it?

People change, let alone those who have died once?

He is still him, but he is not him. In his body, there lives another soul.

Even though it was still his soul, however, at this time, he was not the same person after all.

Huan Zicheng got up a little angrily, nodded, didn't speak, just put the hat on the car, and walked in with his long legs.

At this time, Yanqin did not follow anymore, but stayed next to the car. It was the dumb slave who had been looking a little silly that followed him with a grin.

The shop was a little dark, some farm tools and iron tools were piled up haphazardly, old and new, and some of the utensils were covered with thick ash, which seemed to have been left unattended for a long time.

Huan Zicheng seemed to be very familiar with this place, and he didn't look at it, so he walked slowly around the sundries, walked through the hall, and walked straight to the inner room.

Inside was a very large room, where the iron was struck, and the temperature in the room was much higher than outside. A lean old man with a bare body stood in front of the stove, intently beating an iron tong in his hand, and two apprentices next to him cheered for him, and when Huan Zicheng walked in, the three of them didn't even raise their heads.

And the strange thing is that Huan Zicheng didn't care at all about their obviously simple attitude, and even nodded slightly to the old man and continued to go inside.

Pushing open a small gray door at the end of the big room, there was a messy room, with several couches and chairs, all of them crude, and a couch with bedding piled up in a mess.

It looks like this is where the shopkeeper lives.

At this point, the house seemed to have come to an end, but Huan Zicheng continued to walk forward until he came to a wall on the north side, and stretched out his hand to push it.

The wall was pushed away, but it was a small moon cave door that was very cleverly made.

He lifted his robe and crossed the threshold, and there was already a hole in front of him.

A small courtyard is not large, the flowers and trees are exquisite, the shadows of the trees are uneven, the vermilion lacquer corridor swims along one side, and there are several delicate bird cages hanging under the corridor, but the cages are empty. One corner of the courtyard is a flower garden, at this time the garden chrysanthemum is in full bloom, golden, white and vermilion, and it is particularly lively.

A middle-aged man who looked very ordinary was squatting in front of the flower bed, holding a delicate iron kettle in his hand, slowly sprinkling water into the flower bed.

His clothes are very ordinary, just looking at the side face, it is just an ordinary appearance, but his attitude is elegant and calm, with an indescribable leisure.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, the middle-aged man glanced back at Huan Zicheng, there was no surprise on his face, as if he had known that he would come, nodded and said, "You are here." With that, he put down the kettle and pointed to the side, "I'll be fine, please take a seat." ”

Next to the chrysanthemum garden is a stone table and two blue lacquer bamboo drum stools, the drum stools are covered with plain brocade chair cushions, which are not luxurious, but give people a very comfortable feeling.

Huan Zicheng sat down on the stool and looked at the dumb slave on the side.

The dumb slave was still smiling, and when he saw Huan Zicheng sitting, he stood behind him very consciously, with a simple look on his black face.

The middle-aged man carried the kettle, put it on the small mountain stone on the side first, then took a cloth towel to wipe his hands, walked over slowly, and sat on another bamboo drum stool.

"There's news. He still had a casual attitude, and while speaking, he reached out and took out a note rolled into a cylinder from his sleeve, presented it to Huan Zicheng, and said with a light smile: "Li Shutang is dead, fortunately not dishonored." ”

Huan Zicheng didn't move, but the dumb slave on the side stepped forward to take the note, unfolded it and looked at it twice, before looking at the middle-aged man.

At that moment, the mute slave's face had long since lost its smile, and a pair of small and dark eyes were indifferent, but there was a kind of blade-like sharpness: "Just a few people went?" he asked.

Xu didn't speak for a long time, and as soon as he opened his mouth, the sound scraped people's ears like sand, and it was indescribably uncomfortable to hear.

The mute slave suddenly spoke, but the two people present seemed to be accustomed to it, and none of them were surprised.

The middle-aged man didn't answer him, but turned his gaze to Huan Zicheng, and a trace of coldness suddenly flashed in his drooping eyes, which looked very kind.

"What's the matter, isn't Huan Dalang still satisfied?" he asked, his tone slightly cold.

This person looked like he was indisputable, and after saying this, the sharp energy on his body could no longer be hidden, as if a long sword was unsheathed, and an invisible killing intent dispersed the entire courtyard in an instant.

The dumb slave smiled and stood with his arms crossed, unmoved.

At this time, anyone can see that this dumb slave is definitely not a very human being, not to mention anything else, only that this middle-aged man is full of murderous aura, if he is really an ordinary slave, he is afraid that he will be stunned on the spot.

However, this dumb slave stood behind Huan Zicheng, and the aura on his body was very faint.

The middle-aged man's pupils shrank, and his face was quickly covered with a layer of green energy. In the next moment, his momentum had reined, and he had regained his indisputable appearance at the beginning.

And Huan Zicheng is looking at the sky.

From the moment the middle-aged man took out the note, he was completely indifferent to what was happening in this garden.

Two poplar trees, several poles of bamboo, plus a fruiting persimmon tree, the upper part of the small courtyard has green leaves and green branches, and the sky is also cut into fine pieces.

"Here, cramped. After a long time, Huan Zicheng said with a sigh, and after speaking, he glanced at the middle-aged man, the corners of his mouth moved, and he seemed to smile, "Mr. Mo San's pattern, is it also like this?"

The slightly cold voice is like a north wind in winter, crossing the ears, making people chill from the bottom of their hearts, but they can clearly detect the implied sarcasm of the speaker.