“……”

The old man, known as "Mrs. Bing", did not respond immediately to Ed's polite greeting. She just stood there, leaning on her crutches, slightly hunched back, looking at Ed indifferently through the gap in the railing of the iron gate. A crisp autumn breeze blew through the north side of the street, bringing up the leaves scattered on the ground, blowing and swaying the gray hair on either side of Mrs. Bing's sideburns, turning her motionless body into a cheap statue of the garden that came to life.

If it weren't for the strange palpitating light in those eyes, Ed would have almost thought that she had suddenly died in the open air without any reason or warning.

“…… Oh," it took nearly half a minute for Mrs. Bing to finally see who the person in front of her was, her thin lips squirmed, and she made a hoarse voice like a crow being held by a hundred tongues, and the corners of her mouth grinned, "Oh, yes, who did I say?" Isn't that the detective kid? ”

“…… Yes, Mrs. Bing. Ed restrained his expression, nodded quietly, and looked at the old man without blinking, "It's that detective boy." ”

"I remember your name seems to be ......"

"Ed."

"Oh yes, Ada."

"No, no, Mrs. Bing. It's Eddard. ”

“…… Ed. ”

Mrs. Bing clicked her mouth, looked down and frowned in thought for a moment, and then laughed again as if she remembered something.

"Yes, that's right. Ed, Detective Kid Eddard. She looked very happy, and then her whole face suddenly pulled down, growing nearly a third, "Nasty guy, broke my beloved cane." ”

“…… You remember correctly. Ed coughed dryly and touched his nose, "I did it." ”

"I don't think I'll ever think of seeing you again in my life," Madame Bin snorted coldly, "what do you want to do when you find this place, when you find me?" Don't you think it's enough to toss me as an old woman? ”

“……”

Ed took a deep breath. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he couldn't help but say it, just just took a big breath.

That's right, it's true, 100% pure. This is the original lady Binlao who gave Ed a headache, and she still gives Ed a headache.

"No, Madame Bing." Ed said, trying to keep his expression from changing, "I wanted to ask you about something." I think you probably know. ”

"What's the matter?" Lady Bean still looked at Ed with hostility.

"Something about your neighbor—that house." Ed pointed back to the big brown house behind him, across the street from the old house, the big house with two cold dead people, the big house with four funeral parlor nerves tied up, "I think you might be in some ...... Well, what did you happen to see? ”

“……”

Mrs. Bing's eyes narrowed at this moment. She looked at Ed, then looked in the direction Ed was pointing at her neighbor's house across the street, the corners of her mouth twitching, and she burst into laughter.

"Yes, indeed, it's possible." The old lady held the cane in both hands, and tapped the tip of the cane with her fingers, "It's possible that I've seen something, right?" Uh-huh...... Yes, indeed. ”

“……”

Ed felt that Mrs. Bing's head seemed a little worse and a little crazier than the last time he had said goodbye to her, most likely because the car accident had broken her. And if that's really the case...... God, that's definitely his fault.

Ed blamed himself and wanted to slap himself, but in the end he hesitated and couldn't bear it. A person can't be so bad to himself, especially a young man should take care of himself. He had to apologize to the old man in some other way.

And just as he was about to open his mouth again to say something, Mrs. Bing opened the locked courtyard door of the old mansion.

"Come in. Let's go inside and talk. ”

Mrs. Bean greeted Ed with a withered arm, and then turned and walked towards the door of the large villa without looking back. Ed hesitated slightly, pushed his glasses, stuck out his tongue and licked his lower lip, then lifted his heel.

His steps were slow and not at all in a hurry. The old lady was a shell faster than the tortoise.

……

The living room of Mrs. Bing's house was large—of course—but there was not much furniture.

Ed sat in a printed cotton chair, restrained with his hands and feet, trying not to touch the table in front of him, in fact he didn't even want to touch the carpet if he could. His eyes were slanted into the corner, where there was a double-barreled long-barreled shotgun that looked like it hadn't been used or touched by anyone for a long, long time. It was covered in dust, and he knew that if anyone was going to use it, it would have to be cleaned and oiled, otherwise whoever he was aiming at would be the one who ate the gun.

Not far from the gun, under the wall between the two windows, there was a large piano, not new, but clean, and it was obvious that someone had taken care of it every day. And above the piano, in the middle of the spacious wall, hangs a mural, a good-looking oil painting of a water bottle, a tray, a glass of honey, and a pile of scattered apples. The painter seems to be trying his best to imitate a style of oil painting that Ed can't name, but knows that there is such a genre that has been inherited for a long time. His paintings are very successful, but they can still be seen at a glance as imitations of modern times.

The sound of kicking and dragging footsteps came from the direction of the restaurant. Ed looked up and saw the old and tough Mrs. Bing, holding a cane in one hand and a porcelain teapot in the other, slowly walking to the table on the side of the spacious living room, placing the pot in the tray, and sitting down on another chair on the other side.

"Pour it yourself, guest." The old lady let out a long breath and leaned back in her chair contentedly, "Let my old bone rest a little." ”

"Of course, Madame Bing."

Ed nodded, took the cup, lifted the teapot, and poured himself a cup of tea. He was embarrassed that an old man should be so polite to himself as a guest, until he found that there were only two cups of tea in a teapot half the size of his head, and the concentration of tea was already so low that it was miserable. It felt like I'd soaked it at least four times before.

After staring down at the teacup in his hand for a moment, Ed gently placed it on the table.

"Are you the only one here?" He asked out loud suddenly, without going to see the old man.

"What?" The old lady's closed eyes opened a slit and glanced at Ed.

"Are you the only one living in this house?"

"You see a second person coming to meet you?"

"Is there no one to take care of you?"

"Yes, there is one." Mrs. Bing twisted her body, sat up from her chair, and poured herself a cup of tea with the teapot, and emptied the pot directly, "A little girl, I paid for it." She came once every two days to help me clean up, take care of the food and everything. A very lazy girl, but in general, I don't hate her. ”

"......' don't hate it."

Ed raised an eyebrow and nodded. For the old lady to make such a comment, he was ready to carve a carrot medal for the strange hired man he had never met.

"What do you want?!" Mrs. Bing looked at Ed's reaction and glared at him fiercely, "You're here to talk to me about this?" Well? Talk about my personal life? ”

"No, no, of course not." Ed waved his hand repeatedly, "Don't get me wrong. I just wanted to know a few things about your neighbor's house across the street. ”

"Yes, neighbor." The corners of Mrs. Bing's mouth twitched, and she let out a sneer, "Those two poisonous insects." ”

Ed's eyes froze. "You know?"

"Of course."

"You know them well?"

"Familiar with them?!" Mrs. Bing suddenly became furious and slapped the table violently, "Say I'm familiar with poisonous insects?" Less insult me there! ”

"I'm sorry. Please don't get excited. Ed put the teacup back on the table and shook the tea in his hand, "If you don't know them well, how do you know them...... Well, what about intimate things? ”

Others Ed didn't know that if it was his own drug use, he wouldn't be yelling at others everywhere, even if it was an acquaintance, let alone an unfamiliar stranger. Normally, everyone is like this, unless it's the kind of person who, for some reason, has long since stopped keeping these things a secret, and doesn't care at all, and has completely fallen to the innermost point of hopelessness. And the number of those people is relatively very, very small.

Ed's question caused an unexpected effect. The old man quickly calmed down, and then a strange smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"Detective boy, you're a lot dumber than I thought you would, and I doubt you're the kind of person they say eats with your head. How do you think I know that? My legs may be a little bit bad, but I'm not blind yet - they're very good. ”

"Eyes?" Ed looked at the old man and looked her in the eye, "You mean, you 'see' it?" All of them are 'seen'? He did ask Madame Bean if she had "seen" anything, but he didn't mean that.

"What do you think I'm talking about?"

"What do you see?"

"Everything."

"What?"

"Everything." Mrs. Bing gestured out the window, "I know everything that happened outside, everything that happened in that house. ”

Ed shook his head. "I'm not sure about that. Madam. ”

"Hey, that's because you're not me." The old man rattled twice, then took another breath, took a sip of tea, looked up at Ed, and pointed his finger at himself, "I-detective boy, I--an old woman who is alive and dead only has the difference between the length of time and the time left, an old widow who has nothing left, what else can she do but sit in the room every day and look out of the window?" ”

“……”

"Don't think about anything rude," the two eyes stared sharply at Ed, and Mrs. Bing seemed to easily see what he was thinking at this time, but strangely her tone was surprisingly calm, "If you want to ask something, just ask quickly...... While I still remember, while I haven't forgotten. ”