After the explanation was finished like a firecracker, he said politely to Jiang Futing: "Then I will trouble you."

Nothing is too much trouble to have.

As soon as Jiang Futing hung up the phone, he threw away all the information he had learned during this time without concealing it.

After he finished sending the message, he suddenly stood up and picked up his coat and put it on his body.

Seeing him fighting, Bai Tang knew what he had in mind, so he leaned lazily on the edge of the chair, hooked his fingers, and took his coat hanging on the shelf out of thin air: "Where are you going?"

Jiang Futing walked to the door of the room to change his shoes: "The old site of the orphanage, I didn't have time to take a closer look last time. Lu Changku's biggest problem is that in his childhood, the old orphanage is where he grew up, there will definitely be some information left, if you don't hurry up tonight, tomorrow the police will find out that you will be the first to go, and there will be no scum left for us at that time. ”

After he finished speaking, his shoes had already been changed, and when he turned his head, Bai Tang had already dragged his slippers and put on his coat, and stood loosely waiting for him.

Jiang Futing looked at his ten toes that were exposed, and couldn't help but say, "You change your shoes ......"

Halfway through his words, his hand was grabbed, and the scenery on the side changed in the blink of an eye.

There was only one word left, and he appeared at the door of the orphanage where birds don't.

Bai Tang ignored his blowing nose and glared, holding his head and walking in with a big grin: "What are you doing with that matter, wear it for the ghost to see!"

Jiang Futing: "......"

Aren't there only ghosts?

It's just that this time, as soon as the lonely ghosts imprisoned in the courtyard saw the two of them, it was like seeing the plague god, and the two of them stepped into the boundary of the circle with their front feet, and the black pressure on a group of ghosts was as thick as a miasma, and they were stirred up by the sudden wind, and a swarm of bees seized the time to disperse inside, who still had the heart to care about what they were wearing on their feet.

Even if you go barefoot, no one cares.

Jiang Futing saw that they were a few meters around, so clean that there was not even the slightest miasma, if it weren't for the ghosts not far in front of them all crowded into a lump, it would really make people think that this place had been cleaned up.

The two of them took two steps forward, and the wild ghosts trembled and took two steps back, until they reached the gate of the building, and a group of dark and dreary wild ghosts could not retreat, and they were all huddled together, like a mass grave.

Jiang Futing just glanced at them indifferently, but a group of powerful ghosts were still frightened by his simple glance, and they all pulled their heads together, and waited until the two of them walked in before they flew apart and found a corner to nest honestly.

The general structure of the building, he has the experience of the last trip, and he knows a little bit, but last time he left in a hurry with Gao Xue, and he didn't have time to explore it in detail.

The dust in the classroom on the first floor is as thick as snow, and if you sweep it, you can't see the original shape and color of the things.

The handprints of different shapes and sizes on the window looked a little shocking, the only difference was that the handprints seen this time were obviously not as clear as the last time, and began to cover a thin layer of gray again.

At least it shows that during this time, Lu Changkut did not bring new victims to do it here.

Jiang Futing is directly nearby

I chose the first classroom and pushed the door open.

According to the type and size of the desks and chairs purchased, the basic education of the children is divided into classes according to their age.

For example, the classroom they are in now should belong to three or four-year-old children, there are no desks, only colorful and eye-catching small benches, and even if a person of Jiang Futing's height sits down, it looks similar to squatting.

Maybe because the people sitting there are too young, there is nothing in this classroom, simple and pure, barely like a classroom set up for young children in a kindergarten.

What's more, the age of young children is too young, their physical fitness is thin, and they are still simple, and the risk is too high to educate at this age, and the probability of accidents is doubled in a straight line, so there is no hands-on, and there will be no abnormal traces.

Jiang Futing finished walking around this classroom, and then walked to the next room without looking back.

The age at which Lu Changkut and Lu Changrong entered the orphanage was not young, six years old.

It is an age that can remember, and the basic character has been formed, but the three views and cognition are still in a very weak and easy to shape stage, and a little unhealthy transmission and orientation may easily lead to the deviation of their three views.

And Lu Changkut is a person with a sensitive personality, drawing the ground as a prison, and having a strong sense of self-protection, which leads to the fact that in order to protect himself, he frequently takes the initiative to kill the monsters he subconsciously judges, so as not to harm himself and the weak.

On the way to the next classroom, even though the room and corridor were as dark inside and out, as he deepened, Jiang Futing felt a trace of coldness and darkness that became thicker and thicker as he did last time.

Bai Tang held his pockets and followed him casually and continued to walk inside: "According to what you said earlier, there must be that indoctrination room upstairs in this place, why don't you go up directly?"

Jiang Futing glanced at this person who had been out of school for decades, lowered his eyes, looked through the gray window at the classroom in front of him that was deep in darkness, and said softly:

"Their lives are like animals in the circus, in this kind of place where even sleep is guarded without privacy, only the desks, chairs and books in the classroom can bring a little privacy and security to their spirits."

He walked to the door of the next classroom and gently pushed the door open, and the door shaft made a hoarse sound that no one cared about, and the thick dust immediately poured into his nostrils.

Jiang Futing took half a step back, subconsciously raised his hand to cover his mouth and nose, and waved his other hand in front of him.

When the dust rolling in front of him settled down slightly, he opened his legs and walked inside.

This classroom was noticeably different from the previous ones, and was decently filled with neat desks and chairs.

Tables and chairs will be forced to change to a new owner every other year, one session after another, and a single table has no idea how many people's memories and traces have been left.

Bai Tang followed him, stretched out his fingers and wiped them on the corner of the table at will, and a clear and eye-catching finger print immediately appeared on the corner of the table, and the dust on his fingers was like picking a layer of mud

Thickness of the sample.

He looked at the ash on his fingertips and rubbed it slowly, and some could understand the meaning of what Jiang Futing said just now.

It is human nature to seek a safe haven, which can be large or small, as big as a home, and for those who are a luxury and even pray for a normal life, a solid haven in their hearts is even more important.

It can be an ethereal faith, but obviously, orphans rarely understand such a thing as faith.

Relying on one's own spirit to persevere, it can be all kinds of strange things.

It could be as simple as a pen, or an ugly spider in the corner that grew up with them, or even a lifeless chalk or eraser on a blackboard.

But for someone like Lu Changku, the power of these small objects was not enough to support him.

He needed a space where he could hold himself and hide himself safely.

The only space is the classroom.

At least for that time, he could sit there in the open, distracted, in a daze, sleep, study.

Whatever it is, it's a precious gift of your own.

Jiang Futing walked back and forth along the arrangement of tables and chairs, and some books were stacked on some desks.

Donated picture books, fairy tales, and some science and technology that children can't understand yet.

Many of the books were scribbled by the donor's own children with pencils and ballpoint pens, but fortunately, they were all processed on the original printed pictures, or perhaps those children were not very interested in words, so it would not affect the viewing.

Some of the desks still have leftover pencil heads, which look like they have been sharpened with a knife, pitted, like gnawed with teeth, and some of them are even reluctant to throw away an inch after they have been used.

In such a life, the most profound thing these children have learned should be the cruelty and hardship of life.

Love is more like a fairy tale that they have read, they can only think about it in their dreams, and reality is never attainable.

He stepped on every step unusually heavy, Jiang Futing walked to the end of the classroom, did not find anything, bypassed the last table and chair, walked from the back to another column, and continued to check the other tables and chairs.

Just as he walked to the third-to-last desk, his steps were abrupt, and his eyes were attracted by a Chinese textbook on the table.

The textbook is opened and pressed against the table. The dust that fell on it was not very thick, as if it was not as thick as the dust on the table.

Someone should have been here a few days ago, and I just reviewed this textbook, and after reading it, no one found it, and I didn't clean it up if I put it here unscrupulously.

Jiang Futing lowered his head and looked at the cover of the textbook, and at a certain moment, he seemed to be intertwined with Lu Changku's same point in different time and space.

He waved his hand to brush off the dust on it before picking up the textbook and flipping it over to read.

The page of text that stayed was "Little Boat".

Next to the last sentence, there is a note with very small handwriting, and the font is still a little jerky, but it looks good

Lu Changku's handwriting:

I used to believe that the sky at night was blue with stars, but later I found out that it was only black, but now, it turns out that it is indeed blue stars.

Judging by the handwriting, this was probably written when he was still in elementary school.

After reading this sentence, Jiang Futing flipped through the other texts.

Really...... Bai Tang leaned on his side, and the more he looked at it, the more he admired: "Is this the study habit of your scholars?"

"It's not." Jiang Futing immediately denied it, for fear that Bai Tang would substitute himself into it.

He won't have the habit of writing these boring things, he will only finish what the teacher explains.

For the rest of the content that I am curious about, I will look through extracurricular books to find answers, and I will not scribble in the textbook anyway.

Like Lu Changku, he really doesn't have the habit of expressing his feelings in every text.

Perhaps this emotion is a unique way for him to vent himself.

But these are ...... He frowned, wondering if he was too sensitive.

Although the handwriting is likely to have been written by Lu Chang when he was a child, the style of writing always makes people feel that they don't look very much like him.

Jiang Futing suddenly thought that every puppet in the exhibition hall and every speech were full of judgment.

Lu Changku's world is black and white, and there is even a dark system that belongs to him alone.

This kind of writing with a touch of brilliance and hope is really not his style.

But it's not impossible to think about it, after all, at that time, he was only a six or seven-year-old child, and it made sense that he still had some good hope for the world.

He scribbled through the textbook, and there was not a lot of useful information, and there was no special meaning.

(End of chapter)