The Yulin Army sealed off the 47th Lane, but the people of Chang'an who were watching around still gathered more and more, ignoring the cold rain that drenched their bodies, and people looked at the black-faced man under the wall with nervousness or anxiety or excitement or regret, speculating about what was going on.

Ning Que stood in the rain with a black umbrella, looking at Zhuo'er sitting in the rain from a distance through the crowd, with a calm expression on his face, looking very attentive and serious, as if he wanted to engrave that face in his mind forever.

When we met in Minshan seven years ago, this face was so black, why are you so black? It is blacker than the bottom of the pot and Sangsang is blacker than the night, but I haven't seen him for seven years, and the little black man has become a black man, and this face is still a little strange after a long time, so he has to look at it seriously at this last moment and remember it to the death.

Zhuo'er, who had closed his eyes forever, was carried away from Linxi Lane by the sergeant of the Yulin Army, the onlookers dispersed, Ning Que and Sang Sang snuggled under the black umbrella and walked back to the shop, seemingly calm, but Sang Sang could clearly feel that there was no more luster in his eyes, like a shell that had lost his soul.

The door of the shop closed, Ning Que sat in the circle chair and was silent for a long time, and then said in a low voice: "Eat noodles at night." ”

"Good. Sangsang replied as quickly as he could, tossed the books and the fat powder box aside and entered the back house.

After eating a bowl of noodle soup with three fried eggs specially made by Sangsang, Ning Que's love seemed to have completely returned to normal, and even made fun of her after putting down the dishes and chopsticks, but the laughter was inevitably a little dry.

In the dead of night, when the rain stopped, Ning Que walked out of the shop, confirmed that no one was peeping in the night, slowly walked to the gray wall opposite the shop and squatted down, he raised his arm and slowly rubbed the wall, the wet and cold wall had long been out of that guy's body temperature, he didn't know what that guy was doing here when he was seriously injured and dying, what did he want to tell himself, how long he waited in the cold rain, and what did he think about when he waited......

The slender fingers stiffened slightly when they touched a brick, and the corner of the brick had a very faint blood mark, and a very small nick, if you didn't touch it with your fingers, you would never be able to find it with the naked eye alone.

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Walking back to the store, Ning Que handed Sang Sang a few pieces of tissue paper soaked in oil in his hand, instructed her to keep them well, and then in a very rare way, she boiled her feet with boiling water, and got into the slightly cool futon with moisture. Still as before, Sang Sang obediently slept on the other end of the bed, his whole body shrunk like a mouse.

"Seven years ago, I only stayed with him for a few days, and then he was taken away by his dead ghost master, but you don't remember those things. He hasn't learned anything from that dead ghost all these years, and he's just a spy in the military department now, and it's really not a good mix. ”

"It was true that there was a letter in the middle, but it took seven years to see each other again, and I don't know what kind of person he has become now, and how deep my feelings are with him...... It's too pretentious. To say that my relationship with him is really using each other a lot, more precisely, I use him to know about Xiahou. ”

"But he died like this, this matter is very troublesome, the slaughter of their villages is now only known to me, of course I didn't count you, then it won't fall on my head?

Sang Sang knew that he only needed to vent or self-persuade at this time, and he didn't need someone to talk to him, so he never spoke, and gradually seemed to be really asleep.

Ning Que couldn't sleep, he opened his eyes and looked at the marks formed by the rain in the corner of the house, suddenly sat up, put on a single cotton jacket and went to the small courtyard, took out three old knives from the firewood, and lowered his head in the eaves of the well to sharpen them.

After sharpening the knife, he still didn't feel sleepy, he walked to the shop and lit the lamp, poured water to polish the ink and moisten the pen, and pulled a piece of torn paper at will, and the ink splashed under the pen like the heavy rain during the day, and hastily wrote a few lines.

"It's very cool to chase it, and it hurts through the heart and liver, and the pain is helpless. did not get the Mercedes-Benz, the grief is deep, but what can I do. I felt choked on the paper, and I didn't know what to say...... Xiao Ningzi paused. ”

Ning Que had no expression on his face, and his eyes were calm, which was in stark contrast to the gradually bitter and agitated handwriting on the paper. I don't know when, Sang Sang got up from the bed, and the little maid stood beside him in a single dress, silently looking at the words on the words, and then raised her little face to look at him questioningly.

"These words were written by a man who came before, and I just copied them. Ning Que explained: "The ancestral grave of the predecessor was excavated, and although it was repaired immediately, he couldn't rush back to see it, so he wrote these words in grief and depression. ”

Sang Sang nodded, but looking at the confused look in her eyes, it was probably still not very clear, Ning Que smiled, and did not explain more, copying this famous post at least ten times, only tonight, he probably understood what kind of pain can penetrate the heart and liver, and what kind of things can make people feel choked on paper. (Note)

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After daybreak, the rain stopped.

The sun, washed by the spring rain, was exceptionally clear, shining on the quiet 47th lane, painting all the eaves of the building and the gray wall with a layer of beautiful color. The door of the old pen shop was wide open, Ning Que sat in the circle chair and looked at the scroll of idle books, occasionally frowning slightly or smiling at the contents of the book, and then took a sip of tea from the teapot.

In the middle of the seemingly idle book was a piece of paper soaked in oil, and the handwriting that would never be wet by the rain was very clear in the oiled paper, and he was not reading the book at this time, but reading this paper.

This piece of oil paper was stuffed into the wall brick by Zhuoer before he died, and it recorded several names of Liao Liao, some whereabouts and preferences, etc., Ning Que didn't know if this paper had anything to do with Zhuo'er's death, but he was at least clear that if he wanted to make Zhuo'er's death valuable or happy, then what should he do.

The first name on the oil paper is Zhang Yiqi.

Zhang Yiqi's official residence in the Imperial Imperial History Observatory serves the Imperial History, responsible for picketing hundreds of bureaucrats and impeaching lawlessness, this Zhang Yushi was still the director of the Imperial History, responsible for assisting in the trial of the treason case of Xuanwei General Lin Guangyuan, and when he was promoted to the chief of the Imperial History Observatory, he was one of the officials who investigated the Yanjing village extermination case.

Thirteen years from the eighth rank to the sixth grade, no matter how you look at it, it is not a prosperous official fortune, but Ning Que doesn't care about these, he only cares about the role that this person played in the two Chun cases, General Xiahou can kill the enemy by taking advantage of the incident, and can get out of the Tucun case, this person obviously played a role that an imperial historian can play.

Then you die.

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