The fat girl is a fool, everyone in the village knows it, and he also knows that she can't understand what he says, and he is also playing the piano to the cow.

The picture is that after saying it, my heart is a little refreshed.

There seemed to be a stench sticking to his fingers, he wiped it on his body in disgust, and then stopped looking at the trace of things that the fat girl's cloudy eyes were trying to turn, and threw out the wild hawthorn in the schoolbag with a gloomy face, leaving no one, and then leaned over to pick up the books scattered on the ground, brushed off the dust on the top, carefully put them into the schoolbag, snorted, and strode towards the village without looking back.

I had just walked to the pond dam, and suddenly there was a "poof!" from behind me. There was a muffled sound, like the sound of something heavy falling into the water.

His steps stopped, and his heart sank.

Immediately, the panicked shouts of the villagers sounded behind him: "It's terrible, the fat girl can't think about it, and she throws herself into the pond to find death......"

……

Under the old locust tree in the yard, Sun rolled up his sleeves, revealing two thin arms squatting next to a large wooden basin and rubbing the clothes in his hands.

There are more than a dozen people up and down the old Yang family, except for a few old and young, the others are all working in the field. These clothes are heavy and difficult to wash, and you can shake off several pounds of yellow mud when you take them off. As soon as he soaked in the water, a large basin of water was immediately stirred into a pot of yellow mud soup.

In normal times, the Sun family carried their clothes to the pond at the entrance of the village to wash their clothes, and the water in the pond was active, flowing down from the Mianniu Mountain behind the village and flowing to the east. She can also wash the dishes for lunch at home by the way.

But today is different, Qing'er rescued from the pond yesterday and at night, and pinched people and poured ginger water, and her life was snatched back, but people are not very good.

Last night in the middle of the night also launched a high fever, said most of the night nonsense, she and Qing'er father did not close their eyes all night, just stay by the bedside, the day just dawned, Qing'er father went to the village to find the old Chinese medicine doctor Fu Bo, I heard that Fu Bo went to the town thirty miles away yesterday evening, Qing'er father came back with her, all felt that this disease can not be delayed.

Qing'er's father went to discuss with Qing'er's grandfather, and drove the family's only ox cart to the town to get medicine.

These days are busy with the autumn harvest, and the middle-aged laborers of the family have been sent to the fields to harvest rice, and it is reasonable that she will also go.

But Qing'er was so sick that she couldn't let go of her heart, so she had to beg Qing'er and her grandmother to let her stay at home and do the housework. On this day, she cleaned the yard, shoveled the pigsty, washed the pots and pans in the stove, fed the chickens and ducks and the pig in the backyard, and then brought the family's clothes to the yard to scrub.

This last day, she went into the house to take a look several times, and each time she had to touch Qing'er's head and feed her a few sips of tea, and the child burned like a charcoal stove all day long.

Sun absentmindedly wrung out the water in his clothes, threw it into the bamboo basket on the side, and took one of the dirty clothes like a small hill at his feet and threw it into the basin, and scrubbed it with his hands.

A sallow and thin face, worried, from time to time to look up at the sun that is about to reach the top, pricked up his ears to listen to the sound of ox carts from the front yard, from Changping Village to the nearby Qingshui Town, it has to be more than 30 miles back and forth, Qing'er's father has been gone for almost two hours, I guess it's time to come back, right?

After hastily rubbing his clothes, Sun stood up, wiped his wet hands on his body, turned around and hurriedly walked towards the west wing behind him.

……

When Yang Ruoqing woke up, her whole body was sore, and her head was still buzzing.

She had just finished a Class A mission and was on her way back to the helicopter.

This was the last assignment of her secret service career, sending an antique calligraphy and painting to an underground toy auction center in Las Vegas.

With this done, her secret service career will come to a perfect end.

However, the plane encountered severe convective weather over the Pacific Ocean, and at the moment of the crash, she vaguely remembered that a green light suddenly flew out of the calligraphy and painting, burrowing into her body.

She fell into the sea, and the cold waters poured in from all directions......

She struggled in the water, trying to grab a piece of airplane wreckage floating beside her, her head finally popping out of the water, and the fresh air rushed in, choking on a violent cough and sitting up straight.

The sudden intrusion of light pierced her eyes.

He squinted his eyes slightly, and waited until the pain in his eyes faded before he slowly opened his eyes.

What caught my eye was a low, dilapidated house, with a thatched roof, cracked walls made of yellow mud, and no decent furniture could be found in the room, a faded wardrobe in the corner, a teapot on the table in the corner, two clay tea bowls with openings, and the only stool with a missing leg supported by a few clay bricks.

The floor was pitted, damp and damp, and the musty smell and the smell of urine from the night pot in the corner of the bed filled the room, making her stomach churn.

There are no cold waters, no plane wreckage, where is this dilapidated place that cannot be inhabited?

Could it be that she was floating on the sea and was rescued by a kind fisherman?

It's just that in the 21st century, looking at the whole world, even those indigenous people in Africa can't find such a poor home, right?

She lifted the patched damp quilt on her body, and was about to get out of bed to ask the door, when she caught a glimpse of a pair of cloth shoes of indistinguishable color in front of the bed, and two holes in the toes.

Shaking her head slightly, she said that it is better to have a pair of shoes than to be barefoot, and just as she stretched out her feet to put on her shoes, the unthinkable happened.

These fleshy feet are still a little swollen, and they are obviously not her feet.

She was born with a pair of small and delicate feet, as cute and clear as white jade, and her toenails were as healthy and lovely as pink scallops.

But the feet in front of me are rough and heavy, and the nails haven't been taken care of for ten days and a half, right? It was black inside, and the nails had been knocked off in two places.

Immediately afterward, she realized that her hands were not the same hands she had been.

She is an agent and a top international killer, and years of training have left a thick layer of calluses between the fingertips of her hands. But she is a hand control, so even if her fingertips are calloused, the rest of her hands are very well maintained, white and smooth, delicate as jade.

As for the hands in front of him, the five fingers are as thick and short as radishes soaked in water, which is unbearable.

She touched her facial features again, and by feeling, this face was not her own.

What's going on?

Who is she?

Who am I?

Where the hell is this?

At this moment, there was a sudden "creak" in the silent and dim room, and a crack opened in the dilapidated door, and then a figure hurriedly pushed the door in from the outside.