Qinghe County has three towns under its jurisdiction, and the county government is in the largest town, Qinghe Town. Shen Zhimo, the county respecter, was old and had a son twenty years ago, and after twenty years, he was old and childless, and he was already exhausted, and he had the appearance of running out of oil and drying up.

What kept him from getting sick was just a breath of wanting to arrest the murderer who killed his son.

Right now, his hair was messy, and he stared at Xing Li under the hall with his eyes for a long time, and then asked faintly, "A painter?"

"A crazy painter. Xing Li said, "I found a talisman on my body, as well as a pen and paper for painting." Tangzun knows that these painters belong to the lower ninth class on the rivers and lakes, and there are not a few people who wander the streets and alleys to commit adultery. He went to Gai County, and the situation over there, coupled with the sword in his hand, made the man confess. ”

Painter is not a general term for a certain type of person, but a profession. The avenue is invisible, and the heaven and earth have spirits. But it is believed that the invisible spirit can be solidified by some means - through books or paintings.

Books are talismans. Most of the Taoist priests were familiar with the way of talismans, and their ancestors were known as the Book Saints—the twin saints of the world along with the Sword Saints.

As for painting, it's just painting. There are people who know some subtle Taoism, using pen and ink Danqing as a medium to steal some spirits of heaven and earth, and seal them in the picture scroll, which also has some more or less effect. But secular people don't respect painters as much as they respect Taoist priests. In the eyes of today's insightful people, those guys are not much different from the scammers who go around the streets and alleys to peddle "life-saving golden pills", or...... It's just a little better.

A painter who has a Taoist practice may have a "divine work" - for example, the picture of a pine crane behind Tangzun was made by a painter in the previous dynasty. Painting in the hall will indeed have a reassuring and calming effect, and it is unknown whether it can prolong life. But in this dynasty, which has been established for more than 400 years, those methods that were originally only circulated in the market have slowly withered away - after all, the painters are not like the Taoist priests under the Shusheng Sect or the swordsmen under the Sword Saint Sect, they have the protection and inheritance of the Taoist system or the Sword Sect.

And so it started to get mixed. It is rare to see people who are really virtuous, and most of the rest are just swindlers who make money from fools and fools.

His own son died at the hands of such a ninth-rate painter?

Looking at his face, Xing Li added: "It's a young man, and he has some Taoism." But to do such an outrageous thing. The old man mourns. ”

After a long while, the county order exhaled: "I don't have to go to the hall tomorrow." ”

Xing Li was slightly stunned, and then understood.

"Yes. He said, "Then he will escape from prison tonight." My lord...... But do you want to see it for yourself?"

Shen Zhimo's slightly cloudy eyes trembled a few times, and he slowly put his hand into his cuffs: "You came to Qinghe with me from Yunzhou." Liheng ...... Liheng has been close to you since childhood. I don't have to worry about you doing things. ”

It was exactly the result that Xing Li expected. Even if the old man wanted to, he probably didn't dare to look at the "murderer" who killed his son. It's not that I'm afraid of the "murderer", but I'm afraid that I will see him, but I can't hold back that breath.

Xing Li retreated, turned around and walked a few steps, Shen Zhimo suddenly said again: "Naxin Orion said that it was a monster." ”

Xing Li turned around and said in a deep voice: "I think Xin Laohan was so frightened that he didn't choose what to say. What is the difference between such cannibals and monsters? ”

After a pause, he took a deep breath: "Liheng has always called me Brother Xing. Humble duties...... I always treated him as my own brother. Liheng's revenge, no need for adults to say, I am desperate to revenge. Fortunately, the sky opened its eyes, and today ...... Today......"

When he said this, his voice choked, and he took a deep breath to suppress his emotions, and confessed: "There is no way to be despicable, my lord ......"

"Go ahead. Go ahead. Shen Zhimo was already in tears, and waved his hand again and again, "Don't let him die too quickly!"

"Yes. ”

Xing Li walked out of the door before exhaling the turbid breath in his chest. Before he breathed, he was unable to control his grief, but now the grief is gone.

Adults are getting old.

As for what the boy said......

Xing Li believed him.

He'd seen it.

※※※

The roof of the cell will let in the slightest ray of light. It's probably a house in disrepair.

Li Yunxin lay on the damp straw, thinking about what he should do.

He never considered himself a "painter". In fact, before Xing Zhutou said that he was an evil painter, he had always been quite curious about this profession.

When he woke up, or was born, he lived in a mountain village in Dingzhou. The mountains are not green, the water is not clear, the land is not fertile, and it is one of the ordinary among the countless remote mountain villages in the Daqing Dynasty.

Both parents are extremely kind and intelligent people, and Li Yunxin used to wonder if they were the kind of hermits who saw through the red dust. By the time he was four or five years old, his father began to teach him something, and he confirmed this conjecture.

It turns out that there are spells in this world.

One day, the family was short of salt, and it was a long way to go to the county to buy it, so my father took a piece of paper, drew a bowl, dipped some salt foam and ticked it in the bowl, and then lifted the paper and shook it with a bang.

Snow-white salt fell from the paper.

At that time, it was probably a young father who wanted to amuse his children, and there was a dark fragrance of moonlight flowers and the setting sun in the courtyard. But he didn't know that his little son was actually not that simple.

After that, he learned the craft. His father told him that the person who really mastered the art was called a painter.

With all things into the painting, with the heaven and earth into the painting, as large as thousands of miles of rivers and mountains as small as Sumeru mustard seeds are collected between this square inch, this is the painter.

The painter in my father's mouth is probably different from the painter in the mouth of the world. But Li Yunxin was not clear at this time.

The sunlight overhead slowly turned golden and finally no longer leaked through the cracks. Li Yunxin knew that it was already night.

Footsteps could be heard in the hallway. A messenger walked to the cell door with a tray, looked at him, opened the door and walked in, and put the tray on the floor.

"Eat. The messenger said in a vicious voice, "Count yourself lucky, Xing Tou thinks you are a character, and he never gave you soup and water." ”

After finishing speaking, someone over there called him, so he glared at Li Yunxin again, took the door and walked out.

Li Yunxin glanced at the food, and there was half a corn steamed bun and half a bowl of gruel. It's a good meal. At least when I was in the village, many people didn't eat corn steamed buns often.

He hesitated for a moment, stretched out his hand to pick up the gruel and took a sip, then grabbed the steamed bun and ate it slowly. After being hungry for a long time, he knows how to take his time, otherwise he will have to bear it.

It was only after he felt his spirit relax a little that he raised his eyes to look at the prison door.

When the messenger went out, he had already noticed that the lock was not attached, as if the messenger had forgotten.

Li Yunxin stared at the door for a while with a strange and complicated expression, realizing that things might be a little ...... Unusual.

He didn't know if it was a local practice to open the door to deliver food, but he did know that the wooden fence of the cell door was actually some height above the ground. The contents of this tray can be pushed from there.

I also know that the lock on the cell door is rusty, and if someone had worked hard to open and lock every prisoner when delivering food, then the lock should never be what it is now.

That is to say, the messenger deliberately opened the lock and came in, and deliberately forgot to drop the lock.

Oh, that's the kind of thing.

Probably a genuine fourteen-year-old boy can't figure out why, but Li Yunxin is not a real fourteen-year-old boy.

Xing Zhutou wanted a scapegoat. If he did the same - the prisoner escaped from prison and was killed, and the case was closed, and no one had to desperately spend any effort to catch any monsters.

He breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of this. At least for now, until he walked out of this door and into the night, probably no one would disturb him.

Thereupon......

After Li Yunxin ate and drank enough, he found a more comfortable position in the straw pile and fell asleep.

However, at this moment, the two poor people hiding not far away could not be as comfortable as him. The two of them waited for a while, but did not hear the expected sound of the door being pushed and footsteps.

"That kid didn't watch?"

“...... A teenager, probably. ”

", stupid goose. ”

"You make a noise. ”

The soapy man sighed and opened his throat: "Look at the prison door, drink in a while!"

"Let's go, what else can I do wrong. Another said.

The two waited for a while after finishing the play, and finally heard the voice.

It's nothing but snoring.

"...... This stupid goose ......."