Zhao Peng's interaction with his mother could not be more normal. If you hadn't read the white fat man and Biao Ye who hadn't read the letter, maybe they would have been deceived by the scene of the mother's filial piety in front of them. But after reading the letter, the white fat man was always jealous of Zhao Peng and the blind old woman.

The white fat man inexplicably felt that the feeling that the two of them gave him was inexplicably false, as if he was acting in a play to show them.

Biao Ye ate very little, and said he was full without eating a few chopsticks and meat.

"I'll go out and breathe."

The white fat man also knows the bottom of Biao Ye, and he can't eat these to be full.

Zhao Peng asked the white fat man with some doubts: "Your second brother eats these?" ”

"Oh, he's usually eaten more than that, maybe he didn't get used to it for a while."

Zhao Peng put meat in his mouth again, and said, "Look at my brain." Putting down the chopsticks and looking at the white fat man, he looked interested: "I forgot to ask your brother's name." ”

The white fat man said in his heart: "Our three brothers are surnamed Bai, and our parents haven't read much at home, so they named us Bai Da, Bai Er, and Bai San according to the order of birth." ”

"It turned out to be Big Brother Bai, disrespectful, disrespectful!" Zhao Peng smiled stupidly, but the white fat man felt a strong sense of being tempted.

"Oops!" The white fat man deliberately rubbed his stomach and said, "It seems that I can eat again, this stomach is a little flatulent." He exaggeratedly said: "Ten years ago, I could eat a bowl of japonica rice in Sanhai, plus two roast chickens and a fish!" ”

Without waiting for Zhao Peng to speak, the white fat man made an excuse to leave: "Brother Zhao Peng, auntie, you eat slowly, I'll go out to eat." ”

Only Zhao Peng and the blind old woman were left in the house, and the blind old woman's eyes were like a pool of muddy water. Holding the fish soup in his hand, he slowly swallowed the milky white fragrant liquid.

Zhao Peng slowly put down the dishes and chopsticks without making a sound. Quietly leaving his seat, he pulled out a small jar of ash in a hidden corner, opened the mouth of the jar, and took a deep breath impatiently, his face full of intoxication.

The sound of his breathing was unrestrained, so loud that it stood out in the quiet night of the mountain forest. The frosted glass-like eyes of the blind old woman's cloudy eyes suddenly turned, very hidden and very fast. The bowl she was holding in her hand was also sluggish, and although her lips rested on the edge of the bowl, the movement of drinking the soup slowed down.

Zhao Peng couldn't hide the smile on his face holding the jar, and he quickly turned around - the blind old woman didn't squint, her eyes were empty, and she had no focus at all, holding the bowl of soup in her hand and drinking it slowly.

The man's face was a little pity, but the jar in his hand gave him great comfort. Like a squirrel pulling winter nuts, he sat back on the bamboo chair with his delicious "nuts".

The volume can be reduced or even completely silenced by careful movements, but the smell and vision cannot be blinded. Sun Peng took out the piece of foul-smelling internal organs, put it under the tip of his nose and sniffed it vigorously, and the gurgling swallowing sound was endless.

The blind old woman sped up her soup and tried to bury her face in the bowl. After drinking a bowl of fish soup, she "looked around" in confusion and asked, "Son, do you smell a foul smell, can you go outside and see if the weasel has bitten the chickens at home?" ”

Sun Peng felt very impatient, and said nonchalantly: "Mother, you eat well, and I'll go out to have a look after eating later." ”

"Food" at the moment, he didn't want to waste a single cent of his time, and the chickens outside had better all die...... His stomach rang at the thought of this, so that he could enjoy a luscious and hearty feast of offal. He hadn't eaten so much in a long time, and the last time he disemboweled, he almost lost sight of the pleasure of blood and minced meat pouring on his face.

The blind old woman was a little vexatious, and she muttered: "These chickens can lay eggs, and if a big hen is taken by a weasel, how many eggs will be lost every day." Eggs can be exchanged for money in the city, and those nobles like to eat fresh eggs laid by chickens in the mountains. You're not too young, it's time to start a family, this hanger, you won't plan for your family, which girl dares to marry you? ”

"Mother, where are you going again?" Sun Peng is like a real son who is distressed to deal with his mother's urging to marry, but there is only greedy desire hidden in his eyes, his mouth is split like a river mussel, and the fishy saliva is yellowing and dripping down incessantly.

Tick, tick, like drops of water dripping onto the surface of a lake.

The blind old woman didn't seem to notice Zhao Peng's increasing irritability, and continued unrelentingly: "Alas, it's also your father's ......" The old woman paused when she spoke, but Zhao Peng didn't care about these details, if it wasn't for some reason, he would have killed the old woman immediately, scavenged the fat intestines in her belly, and added a dish to his dinner.

"If your father hadn't gone early and left us orphans and widows, maybe I would have been able to save some money and earn you some money for my wife......"

"Mother, I'll talk about these things later, come! Drink soup!! Zhao Peng's hand touched the internal organs in the jar, and there were some black blood clots, like black beans. He took the empty bowl that the blind old woman had placed on the table, scooped the bowl of fish soup into the bowl indiscriminately, stuffed it in front of the old woman with rude movements, and put the fingers of the hand sticking to the grains of "black beans" into the bowl, and the red and black were smeared in a milky white cloud, like a mandala in the soup.

His words were undeniable, and the old woman picked up the bowl of fish soup without hesitation, and gently removed the floating fish and other impurities with her chopsticks. Zhao Peng glared at his blind wife viciously, and then stuffed a piece of fat intestine into his mouth. The fragrance of the viscera soon conquered his taste buds, and he lost the ability to think.

The old woman put down the soup bowl, and most of the soup in the bowl was left. She groped her way to stand up and said to Sun Peng, who was eating a large piece: "I've eaten well, you eat slowly......"

"Okay, leave these to me, mother, you go and rest early." Sun Peng didn't raise his head, he reluctantly took a small sip, wanting to chew the delicious food in his mouth, but he was worried that the amount of food was too much, and he would completely eat it all at once. He paradoxically and enjoyedly prolonged this leisure time as much as possible, but unfortunately the size of the animal entrails was too small, and the taste was not comparable to the pure and plump heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys of humans.

"I'll weave cloth again." The blind old woman looked like an unlubricated car, and she could hear her joints rubbing against each other, making the creepy crunch of bones rubbing, like animal cartilage thrown into its mouth in close contact with its teeth.

The music of the loom creaking sounded again, and Sun Peng let go of his hands and feet slightly. His eating appearance is very peculiar, his head is almost buried in the mouth of a small jar, and what is even more bizarre is that, although his movements are very violent, there is only the sound of water like kneading soft matter like grapes.

The blind old woman was obsessed with the act of weaving, and she could deceive herself countless times. However, the truth is the kind of demonic fear that cannot be concealed, which makes people crazy and makes people become Buddhas. From that day on, she knew that her son had gone down to the Yellow Spring. The one who climbed up instead of his son could only be the evil ghost that had been wandering in the Lethe River for thousands of years.

It occupies Peng'er's body, and with a cruel smile under the nine springs, it takes revenge on this world. Regret not being at the beginning! She still remembered a trace of old love, thinking that a miracle could happen to their family of three. However, miracles are a luxury, especially for people like them.

Everything was completely destroyed, like a storm in the middle of summer, caught off guard but rightfully left behind a stump. She unleashed the Rakshasa demon with her own eyes, and there was no way to send it back to Xudu.

Once she had the opportunity to set a fire to burn this sin away. However, it was all to blame for her damned woman's kindness, and for her husband's indulgence in him and his carnal mercy for his son. As everyone knows, once sin and evil begin, there is no right or wrong, and the chain that tried to bind the evil ghost now holds her lute bone and chokes her lifeline.

It was like an incomparably long, endless, nightmare, in a mass of evil and chaos, looking up and seeing no light, lowering into the abyss, advancing to pieces and retreating with no bones. She was the creator and accomplice of the dream, she thought, maybe this was the punishment for her.

Life and death are forbidden places that cannot be touched by human ashes, and this is the realm of the gods and Buddhas of the heavens. She, an ignorant woman and child, wants to hide a thought from the world and Haiti, but in vain there is only terror and numbness.

She thought about that time, and her husband happily welcomed their son back again. The alarmist letter was not taken to heart, it was the strength and weakness of the creature—there was always a glimmer of hope and fantasy.

Those who are close to Zhu are red, and those who are close to ink are black. She should have remembered this sentence a long time ago, and there are only two endings for being in the company of evil spirits, one is to be eaten by them as food; The other is to join them and be one of them.

That night was also the night of this night, the moonlight was hazy, as if separated by a veil, but the stars in the sky were unusually bright.

Insects and nightingales hide quietly in the shadows, and the forest seems to come alive, exposing every move to the invisible eye.

The clucking of chickens pecking at rice from time to time has disappeared completely, and only a piece of proves that they have been alive here.

That night, she and her husband cooked a sumptuous dinner for their son, who had come home. But maybe it was because the journey was too tiring, and the son only ate a bowl of rice before saying that he was tired, and then went back to the room to rest.

The bed and quilt in the room, every time the weather is fine, she will take it out to dry, and the quilt has a good smell of sunlight.

She was a little worried about her son's health, but she secretly laughed at her suspicions. After she put away the dishes and chopsticks and washed the dishes, she went to bed not long in the morning. The only light source in the room was extinguished, so quiet that even his own breathing and pulse could be heard.

Chance represents a possibility, and dense silk threads are like all kinds of possibilities, when they intersect and occasionally form several paths that run through the whole process, chance becomes inevitable.

When she and her husband built the house, they did not install a door for ventilation and building materials. The furnishings at home have always been casual, and killing weapons such as knives and bows and arrows are hung in the living room. When their son came home that day, they were so happy that they drank a few more glasses, and when they got to the room, they fell asleep. The letter of warning was a letter that they wishfully did not believe. All sorts of coincidences had sent them to the guillotine, and she could never have imagined that a demon would wander around their room in the guise of her own son after they had fallen asleep.