Tang Zhaozong called those eldest brothers in Jinling City, Yangzhou City, and other places.

Although, the eldest brother in those places knew that Tang Zhaozong was going to attack Tang Zhangwei, but if that Tang Zhaozong wanted to attack Tang Zhangwei, he must have a strong army.

Now, what Tang Zhaozong lacks is this, so that Tang Zhaozong hollowed out his mind, he wanted to replace the army composed of the authentic good family with those people in the rivers and lakes.

When Tang Zhaozong and them were busy, Tang Zhangwei was eating roast mutton with his subordinates.

Tang Zhangwei said: "We people used a lot of thought to eliminate all the people in the rivers and lakes under Tang Zhaozong. However, now there are many big brothers in the rivers and lakes serving that Tang Zhaozong, what is the situation? ”

Pan Magpie said: "Where there are people, there are rivers and lakes, and on the rivers and lakes, people have their own ways to solve problems, and you should tolerate them to solve problems in their own way." ”

Tang Zhangwei said: "I don't care, I have my principles, as long as those people don't get in the way of my business, they are a little arrogant, I won't worry about them, if they and I have teeth, I will definitely destroy them." ”

Bai Cunxiao said: "I immediately led those heavy cavalry and wiped out all those villains." ”

Tang Zhangwei laughed, he said: "Those people want to fight me, they are too stupid!" How long do these people's brains grow, why do they do wrong things, they stupid people, their IQ is too low. ”

In fact, these people in the rivers and lakes don't know that they are not Tang Zhangwei's competitors, that Tang Zhaozong has harmed countless big brothers in the rivers and lakes before, of course they know that if they cooperate with Tang Zhaozong, they will definitely be sent to death.

However, in the minds of these people, they can win, and these people have to be sent to death, so that Tang Zhangwei will not sympathize with them, and Tang Zhangwei will kill these people.

Those fools thought that they could threaten Tang Zhangwei if they had more people, but these people didn't know the huge difference in combat effectiveness between that Jianghu person and a professional soldier.

Before dawn, the old man fell asleep like a dead man on the little mat because of the anguish in his heart. By seven o'clock my son was dying, and I woke up his father. Pokrovsky was completely conscious and said goodbye to all of us. It's weird! I couldn't cry, but my heart was broken.

But his last moment was the most torturous and painful for me. He always begged for something with his stiff tongue, and for a long time, I couldn't hear his words clearly. My heart is bursting open! For a whole hour he was very restless, and was always worried about what was going on, and he tried to make gestures with his two cold hands, and then pleaded with a hoarse, deep voice; But his words were just incoherent voices, and I still couldn't understand anything. I brought all our people to him, and I gave him water to drink; But he always shook his head sadly. Finally I understood what he wanted. He asked me to open the curtains and open the window guards. Probably he was going to take one last look at the day, look outside, look at the sun. I opened the curtains, but the day was gloomy and bleak at the beginning, like the life of a poor, dying man. There is no sun. Overcast clouds formed a curtain of fog that obscured the sky; It was raining, and the sky was so dark and miserable. The drizzle hit the windowpane, and the cold and dirty rain washed the windowpane; It was dark and dark. The dim light of dawn shone faintly into the room, barely competing with the trembling light of the ever-bright lamp in front of the icon. The dying man looked at me sadly and shook his head. In another minute he was dead.

Anna Fedorovna took care of the funeral herself. She bought an extremely ordinary coffin and rented a large cart to transport goods. To cover these expenses, Anna Fedorovna took all the books and all the belongings of the deceased. The old man quarreled with her, shouting, and snatched as many books from her as he could, and filled all his pockets and put them in his hat wherever he could, and he carried them with him for three whole days, and refused to put them down even when he should go to church. For three days he seemed to be unconscious, and like a fool, he was always busy beside the coffin with a strange look of concern: one moment he straightened the ribbon with the icon on the forehead of the deceased, one moment he lit the candle, and the other he took it away. It seems that his mind cannot be methodically stuck on any one thing. Neither Mom nor Anna Fedorovna were present when the requiem prayer was held in the church. Mom is sick. Anna Fedorovna was fully prepared to go, but after a quarrel with old Pokrovsky, she did not go. It was only me and the old man who went with me. As I prayed, I suddenly felt a sense of fear, as if it were a premonition of the future. I could barely stand in church. Finally, the coffin was covered, nailed, and transported away on a cart. I only delivered to the end of the street. The coachman drove the car away at a trot. The old man ran after the cart and wept loudly, his cry trembling and intermittent from running. The poor old man's hat fell off, and he didn't stop to pick it up. His head was drenched with rain, and the wind blew again, and the snow whipped and stung his face. The old man didn't seem to sense the bad weather, and ran from one side of the cart to the other crying. The placket of his shabby gown fluttered in the wind, like a pair of wings. The books protrude from every pocket; He held a large book in both hands and clung to it tightly. Passers-by take off their hats and draw crosses on their chests. Some stood still and looked at the poor old man in amazement. The books kept falling out of his pockets and into the sludge. Someone stopped him and told him that he had lost something, so he checked it and hurried after him

Old Pokrovsky stayed all night in the hallway, at the door of his son's room; There they laid him a small mat. He kept coming into the house; He looked terrible. He was so grief-stricken that he seemed to have lost consciousness and reason completely. His head shook in fear. He was trembling, and he was always talking to himself, talking to himself. I think he's going crazy in pain.

I want to tell you, my dear, that a very tragic thing has happened in our apartment, a truly pitiful thing! At about four o'clock this morning, one of Gorshkov's small children died. I don't know what he died of, maybe it was scarlet fever or something else, only God knows! I went to visit the Gorshkov family. Alas, little darling, they are so poor!

(End of chapter)