Xue Wusuan was quite familiar with this village, he had lived here for several days before, and he remembered that the braised pork made by a farmer's wife was very suitable for his appetite. There is also a mischievous kid named Little Rock.

He shook his fan and prepared to walk around the village.

The old locust tree is still there, and the chaise longue he made himself under the tree is still there, and it even looks very clean.

However, the smoky smell coming from the nasal cavity is not very good.

There were less than 30 houses in the village, but most of them were now in flames. Cries and pleadings rushed into Xue Wushu's ears from a distance. He could distinguish the cries from the sounds of small rocks that he was most familiar with.

His brows furrowed slightly, and with a wave of his hand, a strange suction force struck, instantly draining the air, and the fire on the house was extinguished. Smoke swirls in the air.

The cry in his ears was still there, it seemed to be tragic, and there was a faint smell of blood wafting into his nose.

His footsteps remained the same, shaking his fan and walking in the direction where the cry came. It should be a grain field over there, and it looks like everyone in the village should be there.

The grain field is not far away. To put it bluntly, it's just a bulldozed dam, not big, thirty zhang square.

The whole village numbered no more than 100, and at this time it was surrounded by a group of men in short clothes. It looks like a bandit or a bandit. Each person has a long knife, and his expression is either joking, fierce or greedy. The villagers in the middle were bent over, their faces were ugly, and their mouths were trembling.

And in the middle of the flat dam, on the ground, there were three corpses, in a pool of blood. Two old and one young.

Xue Wusuan remembered that the two old men were the doctors in the village, and the younger one was the child they adopted.

A dead person is nothing in Xue Wushu's eyes, and it makes no difference whether he dies miserably or not. Why is it worth it to die? It doesn't matter. What he cared about was the little figure cowering in the arms of a woman in the crowd. Small stones.

The bandits attacked, and the number exceeded hundreds, which was far from being something that the villagers could resist. Man is a knife, I am a fish, and it has become natural. It doesn't matter if the old couple and the little child did anything wrong, or if they didn't do anything wrong and just became the unlucky ones to wait. Or maybe it's something else.

The little stone looked scared. He shrunk into his mother's arms, his face and eyes were flashing, not only did he not dare to look at the corpses on the ground, but he also did not dare to look at the triumphant bandits around him. The little face was pale, and his mouth was trembling, and he didn't know what he was muttering. Like a little quail that has been scared out of its guts.

Xue Wushu laughed. This child is usually very skinny, and this kind of quail is not common. It seemed interesting to him. Especially the little clay puppet in Xiao Shi's hand.

The clay puppets are rudimentary. It can only be seen that it is a human form, with a head and feet.

But it was such an ordinary clay puppet, between the murmurs of the small stones, a trace of praying power condensed on the clay puppet, and then formed a force so weak that it was almost imperceptible and slowly converged on Xue Wushu's body.

"Uncle Yama, I'm so scared, can you come and save the little stone?"

"What are you crying for? no matter how young you are, you're still a man, and your crying nose makes people look down on you, you know?"

"Uncle Yama!?"

Little Stone rubbed his eyes in surprise. Turning his head, he saw that there was one more person beside him, it was the black-robed uncle with gold nine dragons.

Ever since the village experienced that brutal martial arts fight a few years ago, this mysterious black-robed uncle has become a fearless and omnipotent existence in Xiao Shi's heart. Every word and deed remembers the words of this uncle.

It's a pity that Xiao Shi hasn't seen this uncle since then. He misses it very much, and often fantasizes that when he grows up, he can wave his hand like an uncle to silence those vicious martial arts people and dare not speak falsely. I also fantasized that I was shaking a fan like an uncle, and my eyes were empty and chic.

But the reality is that small stones are still small stones, not to mention those powerful martial arts people, even a wild wolf can make him have no way to live.

But this did not hinder Xiao Shi's fantasy, he made a clay puppet, named it "Uncle Yama", and even hugged it to sleep. Every time he muttered and hoped for the clay puppet, he felt that he was full of strength and seemed to be fearless.

The bandits are coming. Swords face each other. Uncle Wang's family was just worried that their boy was cold, and wanted to go back and get a thick dress for their boy to wear, but he was hacked to death, and the whole family died.

Little stone is afraid. He had a good time with the Wang boy, and he also liked the Wang grandfather, and now they are all dead. Lying motionless on the ground scared him.

If only Uncle Yama were here, he would definitely be able to save Little Rock.

Who knew that as soon as this thought came up, Uncle Yama came. It came silently, and no one noticed. Even Little Stone was worried that the terrible bandits around him would kill him, but he didn't seem to have it. They were all stunned and motionless.

The villagers also discovered Xue Wusu, knowing that this mysterious black-robed man was more ferocious and brutal than the bandits, but he was harmless to the village. My heart settled down inexplicably.

"Did you make this clay figurine?"

"Yes uncle, this is the clay puppet I pinched, uncle doesn't think it looks like you?"

Xue Wusuan pursed his lips and said, "I don't have eyes or nose, I don't look like it at all." ”

"Ah, isn't it like that? But I think it is, otherwise, why would you come when you go down to the stone and ask for it? By the way, uncle, are you the god that your grandfather said before? Only gods can respond to requests, right?"

Xue Wushu laughed when he heard this. Teasing: "What kind of god do you think Uncle is?"

"Hmm...... I know! Uncle must be a god who saves the suffering, doesn't he?"

Xue Wushu shook his head, picked up the small stone, pointed to the Bailai bandit who was fixed by him like a piece of wood around him, and said with a smile: "Uncle can't help the suffering, and he won't respond to requests, uncle usually cares about the dead, and the living don't want to care." ”

"Why don't you care? Uncle, they are very bad! Kill Grandpa Wang, they still want to rob us of our money and food!"

"Hehe, is it so important to live or die? Remember what my uncle said, if you live, you should live well, and if you want to do evil or do good, you must think clearly. Because you choose the wrong one, even if you die, you have to pay the price. You see, just like now, when the uncle comes, they have to die, and death is only the beginning of their suffering. ”

As soon as the words fell, the big heads were like lit firecrackers, crackling and exploding, setting off a cloud of brilliant scarlet.

"Little Stone, do you know why they were blown off their heads?"

The blood scared Xiao Shi, and when he heard Xue Wushu's words, he would only shake his head dumbfoundedly.

"It's not because they've killed someone, it's not because they're bandits, it's not a reason for them to die, it's not even a crime. They died because they offended my uncle, my first believer in this world, and made my uncle look unpleasant. So, they died. ”

"Believer, uncle, are you talking about me?"

"Yes! That's you. But uncle can only help you once, but he won't help you endlessly. ”

"Why?"

"Because to live, you have to rely on yourself. If you die, you can rely on your uncle. Do you understand? Don't understand? Hehe, you'll understand later. ”