Chang'an City is a city with no flaws, except for its summer.

In June, the sun became brighter and brighter, the temperature became higher and higher, the scorching heat shrouded the streets and alleys, and the occasional wind was also a disgusting warm breath, blowing the original verdant and full leaves, yellow and purple grapes on the shelves, bringing out the ice cubes in the homes of the princes and nobles, and pushing open the doors and windows of the common people's homes.

All the doors and windows of the shops along the street in Lane 47 are open.

Compared with the danger of theft, the horror of death from heat stroke is obviously greater. The hard-working little men sat on the stone steps, looking around weakly, guarding against the thieves who also stayed at home to enjoy the shade, while the shopkeeper and the master carried bamboo chairs and buckets to the alleys of the back streets.

The alleys are quiet and narrow, shaded by green maples, and there is not much sunlight during the day, and the night breeze is turned into a few points by the narrow alleys, which will be relatively cool when it blows on people.

All kinds of bamboo beds and small square tables have completely blocked the narrow alleys of the back street, and the neighbors lie on the bamboo beds lazily chattering, and the small square table next to them is placed with melons and fruits soaked with well water.

There are people who are accustomed to having fun in bitterness, and they are even more immersed in eating with a bowl of oil, and the sweat from the chili pepper is mixed with the sweat forced out by the sultry heat, and they use the brackets of poison to deceive themselves that this night is not so hot and unbearable.

From time to time, there would be a crackling sound in the alley, which sounded like an adult was educating naughty children, but in fact it was just people slapping their greasy and sweaty backs with towels wet from the well water.

"No, no, you still want to find a warm foot on such a hot day!"

The husband and wife of the fake antique shop pù argued day after day about the issue of concubines, and the people in Lane 47 were already tired of hearing it, and even began to wonder if this was a more alternative **.

There is also a back door on the back street side of Lao Bizhai, which has not been used a few days ago, and now it has finally come in handy Ning Que lay on the bamboo chair, took the wet towel handed over by Sang Sang and sighed and wiped his upper body, listening to the quarrel on the bamboo bed next door, thinking that there is any real fun that the literati say in the life of the market.

Since it was boring, he left, he put the wet towel on his shoulder, got up and said hello to the neighbors around him, and went back to his small courtyard.

The little maid was wearing a thin blue flower shirt today, with bare arms and legs, and her little black face was ruddy.

The body is cold and not easy to sweat, which does not mean that she can't feel the heat inside and outside the eaves, but it makes her feel even more bored, she looked at Ning Que next to the well and asked, "Young master, can I take off the cloth shirt outside?"

Fetched a bucket of fresh cold water from the well, Ning Que was about to pour it on his head, to get rid of this annoying heat, suddenly hearing this, he couldn't help but be more troubled, and said with his head behind his back: "Although you are young, but after all, you are a girl, how can you strip and undress in front of men, now is not the time when you are three or four years old, I can wipe your body and take a bath for you, you are about to become a big girl, sober up, okay." ”

Sang Sang glared at him in annoyance and asked, "Before, young master, you haven't taken revenge on me, is this kind of thing really so interesting? ””

It's an interesting and irrelevant thing. ”

Ning Que replied: "We eat leftovers every day now, and we have to go to the pit every day to, isn't this boring and repetitive? But you still have to do it." Because if you don't eat, you have to starve to death, if you don't, you have to suffocate to death, and it's not interesting to kill people for revenge, but in order to live with peace of mind, no matter how boring and boring it is, you still have to kill. ”

After saying this, he raised his hands up and turned them over, and the whole bucket of slightly cool well water slapped on his body, and then poured on the stone floor of the small courtyard, and the whole person was suddenly refreshed, and then found that his lower body was a little cold, and he was surprised to see that the cotton shorts he was wearing were washed down.

Sang Sang looked at the half of his exposed buttocks, and the trouser line that was tightly squeezed between his buttocks, giggled in a rare amusement...... "The little hand covered his lips, but he couldn't hide that joy.

Ning Que grabbed his shorts, turned around and said angrily: "What do you see? Killing people is always more interesting than this kind of thing." ”

Sang Sang put down his little hand to cover his mouth, looked at him and replied seriously: "I'll make a bowl of fat intestine noodles later." ”

In Chang'an City in summer, the darkest and coolest before dawn, the residents who were forced to lie on the ground on the street by the scorching heat and take advantage of the alley breeze returned to their respective beds, taking advantage of this short period of the coolest time, doing the most wonderful and deep sleep, intending to make up for all the lost time in the summer.

No one slept in the old pen room.

Sangsang made a bowl of fragrant noodle soup, with a lot of chives and six or seven fatty intestines and two large intestines in the noodles.

Ning Quexiang finished eating, wiped his mouth, put on a shabby ordinary coat, put on a brand-new featureless hat, covered most of his face with a mask, wrapped the Pu knife and the big black umbrella in coarse cloth, and then pushed open the back door of the small courtyard, whispered to the little maid, said hello, and fell into the night.

Walking through the quiet streets and alleys of the East City, the cool night breeze runs through it, whether it is a tired resident or an alert dog, they are sleeping sweetly, and the whole city seems to have never woken up, except for the occasional sound of the wheels of the water truck rolling against the bluestone slabs, and then fades away until it disappears.

The faint light of the lantern illuminates the road not far ahead of the water truck, shaking and restless.

When the water truck passes through the side entrance of Fang City somewhere in the south of the city...... Ning Que, who was squatting silently in the gap of the big bucket, jumped down, landed silently with his feet, and quickly flashed into the night of the side alley of Fang City with a flick of his body. Then he took out Sangsang's hand-painted landscape and took a second last look at it in the dim light.

Just as Sang Sang wondered, he had to plan and prepare to kill someone every once in a while, this kind of thing was really incompatible with the quiet, bitter and happy study life of the academy and the noisy and annoying market life in Lane 47, and this kind of boring repetition was indeed very uninteresting. But for Ning Que, who returned to Chang'an City from Weicheng, eating a bowl of fat intestine noodles or omelette noodles from time to time, and then killing people to take revenge, just like writing a few pictures of Yu to meditate for a few hours, has become a very important part of his life, and even has become a certain habit of life. Every time he kills an object of revenge, every time he erases a name on the oiled paper list, it will make him feel that the burden on his shoulders is less, his body is lighter, and the sticky blood on his hands is lighter by a minute.

Knives, cloths, masks, hats, and even maps and targets' living habits, daily routines, and rest times were all prepared for him by Sang Sang, a black-faced little maid walking through the streets and alleys of Chang'an, presumably not attracting the attention of anyone with a heart, Ning Que was not worried about her safety, and believed in her ability.

So whenever the knife was about to be unsheathed, he never thought that his blade would not be able to cut off a person's head, including today. When he quietly entered the Fang Market by night and walked towards the small lake behind the tea house, he had already begun to pay tribute to the general's mansion and many people in the village with that person's head in advance.

Today he is going to erase the third name on the oiled paper list.

The owner of the head is called Yan Suqing, 41 years old, a former military document appraiser.

This person is proficient in the art of tea ceremony seal identification, after being driven out of the military headquarters by the imperial court with an excuse, he became a tea master specially hired by a famous tea merchant in Chang'an City, according to Zhuoer's investigation, the three letters of General Xuanwei who were accused of treason and collaboration with the enemy were identified by this person, and may even be forged by this person.

There are many inexplicable connections with the Yanjing border slaughter case, when the Xiahou army pointed at the Yan country, but when the Minshan edge was lost, Yan Suqing was in the Xiahou army, but it is incomprehensible that as the military department's cultural appraiser, why did he appear on the front-line battlefield full of killing blood.

Yan Suqing now lives in the small lakeside buildings purchased by the tea merchant for him, Ning Que quietly walked along the trace, looking at the row of quiet small buildings on the side of the lake that are getting closer and closer, looking at those bamboo-walled grass houses that seem to be alienated but implied ancient meaning, the eyebrows exposed outside the mask slowly raised, and suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Because this small building near the lake is too quiet.

Chang'anju is not easy, it can be said that every inch of land is gold, and the city is full of prosperity and bustle, and the quiet Eryu represents the Qing Gui, which is very expensive. Ning Que knew that Yan Suqing was deeply trusted by the tea merchant, but he believed that no matter how extravagant and generous the giant was, it was impossible to give such a small building near the lake to his subordinate tea master.

The morning light has not yet arrived, the vision of the lake is still dark, only the water waves reflect the lights of the unknown house, with a slight glow, Ning Que walked to the front of the small building near the lake, through the alienated bamboo wall, looked at the huge stone carved chair under the stone steps in the courtyard, looked at the thin middle-aged man in the chair, paused slightly and then pushed the door in.

A small oil lamp was lit, and a thin middle-aged man sat on a stone chair, holding a crude teacup made of mud in his left hand, and gently knocking on the corner of the ebony tea Qin with his right hand, calmly looking at the young man who pushed the door in, a smile suddenly appeared on his thin cheeks, and he said softly: "

The so-called tea ceremony is actually just a complicated process to enhance a certain sense of ritual, so as to produce a sense of solemnity. ”

"Many people think that when I drink tea at home, I must burn incense and bathe, worship Haotian for a long time, and then wash the cup and play silently before I can put the tea soup into my lips. Actually, no, my favorite thing in my life is to hold a big teacup and pour tea, probably a habit developed in the army, I still like to be direct. ””

On such a hot summer night, young man, you are restless and sleeping in the house but strolling in the lake, presumably ...... It's here to kill me. ”

(Quit anger and anger, self-isolation if you can't quit, write quietly, write very slowly and hard today, but this chapter was revised before it was issued, and there are two more chapters, I continue to write slowly and seriously, and finally say: Okay, don't say it, see you later.) ）