"Life and magic have one thing in common, and that is magic. ”

"Every life is the embodiment of magic, and every magic is the result of magic. ”

Mr. Wu sat by the iron stove, shaking a worn-out pu fan in his hand, fanning the fire, while chanting the old man's gossip to the small red clay teapot, and from time to time he picked up the teacup and took two sips of tea, which seemed very comfortable:

“...... We, the wizards, are the witnesses of the magic. ”

At this point, he seemed to sense something, and suddenly turned his head to look at a corner of the bookstore. The shelves there were full of books, but Mr. Wu's eyes did not fall on those books, but seemed to look through those books, through the thick walls, through the long void, to a corner of the world.

After a while, he added in an admiring tone: "...... We are also witnesses of history. ”

After saying that, he shook the broken pu fan in his hand again, and the milky white flames that had been restrained a little bit boiled again, stretched out a slender tongue of fire, and licked the jujube red pot wall.

"Click. ”

A small voice suddenly sounded in the corner of the bookstore, but it immediately stopped abruptly, and if you didn't pay attention, you might think that the strange noise was a delusion.

But Mr. Wu has always been discerning.

"I thought you weren't coming back today, so I gave the dried fish to Boss Huang on the back collection, his little granddaughter had a new Persian cat with a very mouthful. The gentleman didn't look back, and while shaking the broken pu fan, he said kindly: "If you want to eat, go to the sea of stars to fish by yourself." ”

No one answered, except for a faint 'squeak' sound from the depths of the bookstore, as if a cabinet door had been opened.

A moment later, the angry voice of the yellow civet came:

"This matter has nothing to do with me, why do you want to detain my little dried fish? Won't your conscience hurt? Those little dried fish are mine! I am here to keep them, how can you just take them and give them away?"

"It's for the cat," the gentleman corrected, "and besides, I caught those little dried fish for you when I went out hunting...... After opening the store for so long, my biggest lesson is that the accounts must be clear. ”

The yellow civet jumped out of the shadows in the corner of the bookstore angrily, jumped onto the desk next to Mr., stared, hunched over, whining in his throat, and rubbing his cat's paws on the tabletop, looking like he wanted to pounce but didn't dare to pounce.

The gentleman squinted and glanced at it:

"Add another layer of enchantment to that little sapling, the shop is very hot, don't let her get dehydrated. ”

Oh, the yellow civet suddenly put away its fluttering momentum, and looked sideways at the transparent ball floating next to its shoulder, I don't know if it was an illusion, it also felt that the little sapling in the ball was a little wilted than before.

"Delusion, this must be delusion. The yellow civet muttered a little weakly, opened its mouth, and spat out a bubble. The bubble rose in the wind, and in a moment it rose from the size of a soybean to the size of a basketball, and covered the ball next to the shoulder.

Then the 'bubble' was tightened and shrunk to the size of a volleyball, adding a 'film' to the transparent ball.

The figure of the small sapling in the ball became more and more blurred.

Mr. Wu changed the fan from his right hand to his left hand, and after a long time, he asked, "Didn't you go to find the bad luck of those two mice? Why did you come back so quickly?"

At the mention of those two mice, the little temper tantrum of the yellow civet exploded again.

"I told you back then, those rats can't be left...... You're good, one or two are still raising more and more! What about now? After making trouble for you, I ran away, and you couldn't find it!"

The flower cat scolded and grinned, picked up the teacup that Mr. Wu put aside, licked it and drank two sips of tea, complaining about Mr. Bad decisions in the past, while denouncing the cunning and sneakiness of the two mice, and lamenting the difficulty of the cat's life:

"I can only say that they deserve to be rats, and they hide more slippery than real rats...... I've been a mouse hunter for years, so it's inevitable that I'll have some hands, but it doesn't matter, give me a little time, and I'll go through the nests of both rats for you!"

Mr. Wu pursed his lips, glanced at the teacup that had been used by the yellow civet, flipped his hand, and turned out a new cup for himself.

The small red clay teapot on the iron stove 'poofed' out two puffs of heat, drawing the attention of the bookstore owner and the flower cat back to the past.

"How long has it been cooking?" asked the yellow civet with a curious ask, stretching its neck.

"It's been an hour, almost. The gentleman was vague and did not give a precise number. He lifted the lid of the teapot, poked his neck to peek inside, and nodded, "It's about the same." ”

Huang Hua Fox sighed angrily: "I said at the beginning, you taught him properly, why do you have to send him to school......?

"I'm better than the great soothsayer. Mr. Wu reminded in a whisper.

The yellow civet cat seemed to be stuck in a thorn after eating a fish, and its voice stopped suddenly, and the cat's face was suffocated, and after a while, it emphasized: "...... Even if you're better than the Great Fortune Teller, you're not much stronger...... I didn't see this kid being punished twice in three days, and now it's less than a year, and he has fallen into pieces and bones, and he is recooked?"

"That's right. Mr. Wu nodded, raised his head, seemed to remember something, hesitated for a moment, picked up the lid again, and then stretched out his left index finger, and the thumb nail lightly scratched on the belly of the index finger, and a drop of red blood seeped out and slowly dripped into the small red mud teapot.

The milky white blood at the bottom of the pot seemed to be stimulated by something, the flames suddenly became a little more urgent, and there were faint thunderous sounds in the teapot, rumbling, and the vibrating lid buzzed.

Then the gentleman withdrew his fingers, folded his hands, and sat back comfortably: "...... Next time, he shouldn't blow it up so easily. ”

The yellow civet head shrank back, and its throat was 'ho-ho', as if it was holding a mouthful of thick phlegm.

After a while, it screamed: "It's not enough, you just give him a drop of blood? I have worked hard for so many years, but I have only saved a few small dried fish, and you still deduct it all day long...... Doesn't your conscience hurt?!"

This is the second time it has mentioned the topic of 'conscience'.

Sir felt compelled to answer this question head-on.

"I think, whether it's you or me," he said, pointing to himself and emphatically, "In this state of affairs, talking about 'heart' is really a very luxurious topic. Moreover, even when the state is in good condition, everything needs to be weighed against the pros and cons, and it is not just a matter of conscience. ”