The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 110: The teacher’s unknown dog’s past

Chapter 110: The teacher’s unknown dog’s past

The ink burned alone on the street, there are still ghosts on the road, fluttering, and sorrowful resentment. At the foot of the bluestone steps, I gave birth to some lonely green scorpions, stepping on the soles of the feet and getting wet and slippery...

After fierce disputes, calm down, only to find that the fingers have been worn out, the door frame is made rough, a lot of burrs, tied in the flesh and blood, a blur, fortunately, the surrounding is dim, not detected by ghosts.

He looked at his eyelashes silently for a while, probably because his heart was uncomfortable, so he didn't feel pain.

He looked back at the closed courtyard door and knew that the man behind the door would not say a word to him again.

This kind of rejection, he is actually no stranger. Ink burning is a person who is accustomed to malice, which allows him to know whether his request is useful from one other's eyes and two or three words.

In fact, when a man changed his mouth and said to him that he had "not seen", the ink burned instinctively understood that this person would not tell me even half of the truth, but it was only about the soul of the night, so he did not Be willing to be pushed out of the door until the door is closed.

He has not been so rudely rejected for a long time, but sometimes, the length of time can not determine what, when the machine can not change the fundamentals, some things are engraved into the skeleton.

Xue Meng once scolded him and planted it.

It’s funny to say that the two toxic words of the arrogant son of the sky do not hurt his self-esteem.

Yes, he was originally a kind of cockroach among the people. He was more irritated than this, and he was not used to it.

He finally looked back at the tight wooden door and slowly walked away from the ghostly eating and laughing.

Laughing, humming, standing, and hanging.

It’s rare that it’s such a helpless scene, and it’s overlapped with the childhood memories of the middle-aged, and the old-fashioned memories of the middle ages. The ink burns and walks. It’s because the situation is too much, so he can’t help but slowly think of himself and his mother. The days that depend on each other...

During those days, they were still not in the music house, but they were on the streets of Linyi, and they were near the Confucianism Gate.

During that time, he had at least a mother.

The mother loves him and is unwilling to let such a small child go out for food. He always settles him in the abandoned wood house and goes to the streets to sell art and sing.

She has a good foundation. With a bamboo pole, she can do the dance on the squat. Every day, she can always earn some copper plates, buy a cake, two bowls of porridge, and the mother and the son are divided. The mother-in-law always wants to let the children eat more, but the ink burns always bite a few mouthfuls and says that the cake is too hard, the porridge has no taste, and the stomach is filled, and refuses to eat.

But she didn't know, in fact, every time she sighed and ate the half-cake and half bowl of porridge that burned the "leftover", the young child who curled up next to her sleep would squint at her. Seeing that she was full after eating, he finally felt relieved, even if he was hungry, his heart was stable.

She did not know, in fact, every day she left, after going to Linyi East City to sell art, her children would climb out of the firewood pile and secretly go to the place where they were separated by two streets.

The mother sang in the street, singing ten feet high, and the thin body was on her head. The following is covered with gravel and porcelain. If it falls accidentally, these tiles will be tied to her flesh and blood, but the people who see it feel stimulated and feel fresh. She used a commandment and tried her best to win a smile that was too wide and too wide.

On the two-street fare, her children begged along the street, grinning in front of each household, grinning face, saying auspicious words, want to discuss something to eat. But there is no, not often.

One day, a rich family and a younger grandmother were pregnant, boring, and in a bad mood, they strolled on the street and saw the mother of the burning flame dancing.

She felt interesting. After a while, let the followers say to the woman who danced: "There are some gravel on the ground, broken porcelain, which is actually a look, not sincere. My wife Say, if you are willing to replace these broken stone and porcelain into knives, erect on the ground, and then you jump again, my wife will reward you with twelve gold."

Faced with such harshness, it is almost a request for the lives of the poor.

The mother’s reaction was just saying: "But I don't have money, I can't afford a knife to shop."

Mrs. Fu Jia laughed happily, and immediately ordered people to go to the iron shop to buy a hundred sharp knives, standing on the ground.

"Jump."

The jeweled woman caressed her own belly and said with great interest.

Soon after, a group of people watched the hustle and bustle of the hustle and bustle. The brilliance of silk and pearls blazed in the sunlight. They smelled the **** smell like the corpse of the corpse, so they stretched their necks and their eyes were shining.

"Jump, jump."

"It’s good to jump and reward you."

"Give money, give money."

The land of the Confucianism Gate, the most indispensable is the rich, the most lacking, is the stimulation and excitement of such a life.

Those silk satin, gold and silver beads surround, will be surrounded by mothers holding bamboo poles. Surrounded by this impoverished, ragged woman.

The woman who was like a mustard, she smiled like this, and made a blessing to the succulent scorpions, thanked them for their support, and then, with the poles, the swallows generally leaped lightly.

On the tip of the knife, use your life to make a song and dance.

Use your life to please you.

However, although she had a good time, when she landed, she looked down at the row of knives and looked amazed. So the bamboo poles were a few inches away, and as the crowd exclaimed, she fell –

I avoided the blade and the secret, but still rubbed the edge, scratched the leg, and the blood splashed in an instant, causing a lot of exclamation.

The woman refused to take pain, and she stood up in a hurry, lost her smile and bowed her head.

Those who watched the excitement laughed: "The woman’s hard work is not at home, and she needs to work harder."

"Yeah, come out to eat and eat, there must be two brushes, the ability of the three-legged cat will be a good thing."

There are a few people who are kind, with tears in their eyes, and they can't bear it: "Hey, let's not say it, look at this, this poor girl, hurt so badly, go to the medicine shop and get some medicine, put it on."

The woman shouted: "I don't have... no money to buy medicine..."

Those people sighed, some sighed, and some raised their hands and touched their own bead, but did not speak, and some wiped their eyes, it seems to be a lot of feelings.

"It's pitiful."

"Yeah yeah."

"Look at your life so sad, I will give you some money." A old woman with a big belly said, she found her own bulging purse, took out a golden leaf from it, pinched it in her hand, and then continued to the purse. Underneath, I took out three copper plates, smashed them in my hands, put them back in two, and solemnly placed a copper plate in the hands of women.

The old woman gave her money, and she uttered two lines of tears in a proper way. She said with all mercy: "Girl, this is what you deserve, and it will be collected soon."

The woman took a copper plate that she had exchanged for her life and muttered: "Thank you..."

Thank you...

And the one who said that she would give her ten gold? Already roaring away.

The woman with **** legs and legs squatted and tried to catch up and ask her for money, but she was pushed down by the accompanying ones she was carrying, and the sound of her voice could be heard across a street.

"It’s awkward!"

"When the wife wants to have a baby, how can she see the **** disaster, so that the master can hear it, can't feel bad?"

"You are still very embarrassed to ask for money. What is the thing you jumped? It is also because your blood has not splashed on your wife, otherwise - you can't eat it!"

"roll!"

The woman was pushed to the ground, because that family was a big copy of Linyi, and no one was willing to give her a head. Her pain twitched on the ground, and the mean ants squirmed.

No one wants to help her...

No one wants to help again...

She danced her life and exchanged only a cold, stinky copper plate.

The good woman who gave her the copper plate said that this is what she deserves.

She is not wronged for herself, but today she only earns a copper plate. What can I buy? I can only change to a cake without stuffing. I can't afford to eat more bowls of porridge. I can't afford to dance with my legs. I can't dance tomorrow. What should her child do? He is still so small, so thin, he has to Hungry...

When she thought of it, she couldn't stand it anymore. She screamed and screamed in the mud, her voice sneered and hoarse, and listened to people who couldn't bear to listen. The people around me sighed and they were all ready to disperse.

At this time, the crowd suddenly rushed over to a dirty, scented child.

The ink burned over and cried like a sleepy animal: "A Niang! A Niang!!"

He hugged her.

Despicable child, hug the despicable mother.

Like the ants cuddling the grass mustard, the dog hugged the duckweed.

The woman saw him, his eyes flashed with horror and surprise, the woman was weak, and the mother was just, she didn’t cry anymore, the days were too hard, she slept like **** in the day, woke up in purgatory, She did not want to show a weak and helpless appearance in front of her children.

The tears on her face were not dry, but she hurriedly made a smile and said, "Oh, look at you, how come you? Auntie is fine, a little bit hurt... you see..."

She gave him the sweaty copper plate in his heart.

The ink couldn't help but shook his head, and the small face was washed out of the watermark.

"Enough you buy a cake, go... you buy it, A Niang is waiting for you here, let's go home."

Family?

Where is the home?

That run-down firewood house?

Still a sheepfold that was driven out after two days of sleep...

The ink burned and swallowed, and there was a hot flash in his eyes. He said, "A mother, you are sitting, you are waiting."

"What are you going to do - don't mess around -"

The ink burned to the side, picked up the knife, and the tender voice shouted loudly and loudly, attracting everyone who was about to disperse.

"Everyone, my uncle, Miss Gongzi, please don't leave! Please don't go! There is also a unique skill. Please ask your nobles to appreciate your face and take a look -"

He has aura from his childhood. Although he has never practiced, he is much stronger than ordinary people who are not qualified.

The ink burned the strong and sharp blade in his hand, and his hands were strong. With a low drink, he folded the knife in half and threw it on the ground.

The people around him were shocked. Some monks in the onlookers felt strange.

"This kid can be."

"One more!"

The ink burned, and this time I took two of them. It was also done in the same way, and the two blades were cut off together.

"Good!!" Someone applauded.

"Three!"

The children are stacked one by one, the blade is getting thicker and thicker, and it is more and more difficult to break, so the crowd is full of fun.

"Let you, my uncle, my sister, give me a reward, and I will go up."

Those who want to watch the fun, throw the least valuable copper plate to the ground in front of him.

The ink burns for these copper plates, adding a knife with one handle and another handle. At the end, the blood is full and can't be folded anymore. The rotted scorpions smashed the black lacquered wings and dispersed them.

The ink burned all the money, and carefully held it with dirty hands, and walked to the mother with tears.

He smiled: "A mother, enough to buy medicine for you."

The tears of the woman can no longer be restrained, rolling down: "Children... Good boy... Let A-Nan look at your hand..."

"I'm fine..." His smile was brilliant, pure, and it hurt her heart.

She held him in her arms and groaned: "It is Auntie who has no ability to take care of you... so that you are so small, you will suffer and suffer..."

"It doesn't matter." In the mother's arms, quietly said, "Auntie, with you, I don't feel bitter... I will accompany Auntie well, and when I grow up, let A Mother has a good life."

The woman smiled and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes: "It doesn't matter if you have a good life. As long as you grow up in Ankang, that's fine... enough."

The ink burned his nod and suddenly said softly: "Auntie, if I have a future, you will no longer have to be wronged. No one can bully you. Only those people, I have to let them come. Apologize to each other one by one, if they refuse, I will let them dance on the knife, I..."

"Stupid child, don't think so." This kind and gentle woman touched his hair and murmured, "Don't think so, don't hate anyone, Auntie wants you to be a good boy, promise A Mother, be a good person, okay?"

At that time, the ink burned too small, like a seedling of young and young, with only a little bit of external force, he would pour in that direction. His literary knowledge was not deep, but the mother of the heart was his first lighthouse, so the little ink burned at that time, ignorantly thought for a while, and finally said seriously: "Good."

He said: "Aunt, I promise you."

"That, then, if later, I... I can make some money, I will make a lot of houses, I will live for those who have no family, and I will plant a lot of food, and I will eat it for those who have no food..." He said to his mother, "A mother, then there will be no more people, like we are today."

The woman came out of the meeting, and finally she sighed and said, "That's good."

The child also nodded and said, "That's good."

They didn't think of it at that time, the people who said such words, in the end will be full of blood, stepping on the bones of the earth, walking in the hurricane of the black crows hovering in the sky, becoming the emperor of the evil.

There is very little, and even will not be willing to go back to this past event, he will never go to the mother’s arms, use the tender voice, clear eyes, and seriously Promise of.

At that time, the ink burned because of the mother's persuasion, even if it was hard to live, there was never hatred, but how much, there will always be some unwillingness.

The days are still so day by day, juggling and selling, watching once is lively, watching twice is boring, the third time, it is tired. They gradually couldn't get a copper plate, and they could only rely on begging for a living.

I remember that there is a rich and sturdy child who is about the same age as him. There is a huge black scorpion in the corner of his mouth. The child is sitting at the door of the courtyard, holding a bowl in his hand. It is about chopsticks, so it is not good. Take the golden crispy fried dumplings inside. The child is very picky, picking up the dumpling stuffing inside, then spitting out the skin and throwing it on the floor to play with the dog.

He walked carefully and stood by and looked.

The child was stunned by the stench and dirt of his body and shouted: "Who?!"

The ink burned and asked him gently: "Little son, this dumpling skin... can you give me?"

"Give you? Why should I give it to you?"

"You...you don't eat, so I want to ask..."

"I don't eat, we have to eat in the family." The child pointed to the two furs on the ground, a fat dog, and screamed, "Does the dogs live, how can you give it?!"

The ink burned as much as possible and sold a smile, saying: "If the dog can't eat..."

"How can I not eat it! They don't have enough braised pork every day, just dumplings, and the two are gone, without your share, walk around."

The ink burned the braised pork, and the eyes fell on the two dogs. Suddenly, the dog that felt so fat, if it was cooked and eaten, it must...

He couldn't help but lick his mouth at the two dogs.

This move fell into the eyes of the child. The child was first stunned and then shocked: "What is your idea?"

"I don't have... I just..."

"Do you want to eat Wangcai and Wangfu?"

The ink burned and said: "No, no, I am just too hungry, can't help but think about it, sorry..."

Where did the little son tell him what he said, and when he heard "can't help but think about it," he changed his face.

How can a child of such a wealthy family understand that someone will be watching a cute puppy at the door, can you think of food? He was so upset that he only screamed and shouted when he felt that the person in front of him was perverted and terrible.

"Come on! Come on! Get him away!"

The servant gathered around and couldn’t help but say that he would burn his fists and kicks. He tried to grab a few pieces of fried dumplings on the ground in those hands that were not light and heavy, and held them in his hands, letting others kick and catch. Also did not loosen.

Xiaogongzi is astonished, and the rest of the dumplings in his hands are not needed. They are thrown together on the floor with bamboo sticks and then run away.

The ink burned and climbed hard. The thin body was beaten purple, and one eye was kicked. The pain could not be opened, but when he reached out and grabbed the remaining dumplings, he smiled happily. .

There are two left.

It is wrapped in stuff...

Eat oneself, one to the mother...

Or both of them give birth to a mother, and it’s good to eat dumplings...

However, he had no time to take the dumplings. In the chaos, there was a foot of the family, and the dumplings on his bamboo sticks were crushed. The meringue was broken and the meat was melted into mud.

He was holding the dirty and broken sign, and the rain-like fist fell on him. He didn't feel pain, but when he looked at the dumplings, he couldn't eat it. His tears flowed down from the swelling. In the eyelids, I found the dirty face that could not see the facial features.

He just wants to eat some other children to eat the rest, what you don't want.

Why waste it, break it, become mud, and can't belong to him.

Later, the ink burned into the son of a dead child. Many people in the martial art greeted him and pursued him. Even at the birthday, there were people who couldn’t talk a few words to give gifts and congratulations.

The children who once smashed the dumplings on the ground finally harvested the heavy praise and beauty. Before he stood in front of a bunch of carefully selected gifts, he gave birth to a vague fear.

He is afraid that these gifts will soon disappear, fearing that they will be smashed. I am afraid that I will not be able to fly a disaster. Everything in front of me will be the same as the dumplings I held in my hand. Stepped on the rotten. So he quickly used all the things in that pile of things, and they could eat them. They couldn’t eat them. They couldn’t eat them. He dug a small dark room in the disciple’s room and put those beautiful The gifts are carefully hidden, counted once a day, and counted again.

Xue Meng also pointed at him at that time and laughed at him. He laughed at him and said, "Ha ha ha, but a box of Linan Qingfengge snack shop is just a waste of food. If you waste it, you will be wasted. You are jealous, just like a hungry ghost. If you have a meal, you will be in your stomach. Who will grab it with you?"

At that time, he had just come to the bottom of his life. In fact, there was a great uneasiness in his heart.

So in the face of the cousin's ridicule, he just licked his mouth, licked the corners of his mouth, and then buried his head to continue to take another box of cakes to eat.

Xue Meng was very surprised: "Do you have a big appetite, don't you support it?"

He only cares about eating.

"...I don’t want to eat if I can’t eat it. I can get a lot of cakes every year, and I can eat a lot of cakes...”

The smoldering cheeks were bulging, and he ate too fast. In fact, some of them were stunned. The dark, dark eyes looked at the opposite teenager.

At that moment, he suddenly thought of the little son he had met when he was young. He could be unscrupulously picky, eat the stuffing of fried dumplings, and take the skin to feed the dog.

Xue Meng is also growing up like this, so you can understate the words "I can't eat it and throw it away" "No one is robbing you."

He is real, really, really envious of them.

Nowadays, he has finally become a famous son who can be a jade food, and he should be comfortable and squandered.

But he didn't dare.

What he did last was just grabbing the water cup next to him, snoring and drinking a few mouthfuls of water, swallowing the sipping snack into his stomach and continuing to hold on.

Later, he became the emperor.

The four wilderness of Shenzhou is his bag.

At that time, beauty, wine, food, gold and silver beads, Hua Cui treasures, there will be people from all over the world, and they will be sent to him.

One day, Linyi came to a copper mine giant, saying that when he was digging, he got a very rare Wannian Xuanyu, which was presented to the Emperor.

There are so many ordinary people who hold treasures to seek an official and a half-rank, or ask for a shade, and there is nothing to be interested in.

But that day, it happened that I was sick and late, cold syndrome. The ink burns and frowns, thinking that the fire Xuanyu is the best to dispel the cold, it is better to save the sick scorpion as soon as possible, save the day lying in bed, look at the suffocating eyes... So the ghost is so bad, met The rich businessman who came to send treasures.

The businessman was almost the same age as him, and he was born with a little fat, and there was a huge black scorpion under his mouth and hair.

The ink burned on the throne of the Wushan Temple. The long hands overlapped, and the fingertips pointed to the chin. He glared at him silently, and looked at the fat businessman with his legs and feet soft and sweaty vest.

After a while, my lips twitched, my lips shook, and I suddenly slammed down and slammed my head, screaming: "The emperor squats, the small people... the small people..."

He was a small man for a long time, but he didn’t know what to say. The fat body was swaying under the shirt made of gold thread.

The ink burned and suddenly laughed.

Even if he has only one side to this person, he will not forget.

In the glory of the rich mansion that year, the child with a black skull in his mouth, with a kind of ink, thought that he could not have the luxury of his life, eating the golden dumplings that the bamboo sticks were poked. Oily mouth, oily meringue.

He smiled and said: "Do you know that your family's fried dumplings are especially delicious."

Although he did not taste it at all, he missed his life.

The ink burned on the throne, and looked at the man from the horror to the horror, from the horror to the stunned, and from the stunned to the flattering, and sighed in the mouth to please himself, saying that he would immediately bring his own chef to death. After that, donate to the emperor.

At that moment, the ink burned more clearly than ever before, and there were many people in the world who would rather go to the sturdy uppers and refuse to bow their heads to give the weak a little pity and goodwill.

The ink swayed and shook his head, trying to get rid of these past events in his mind.

In fact, he has rarely returned to recall these things in the past. It is his weakness. He does not want to want it again.

However, the door-to-door inquiry asked that the situation in which the door-to-house was rejected was as it was in the past, and the shackles in the depths of the mind were untied, and he was temporarily buried in the dark past.

He stayed a little for a while.

He thought that when he was young, he had promised his mother, "I will not remember to hate", and promised her, "And you have a lot of people in the world, and you are all in the world."

He did not do it.

In the end, the world was killed, and the last person who was good to him killed Chu Lingning and killed his master.

Chu nightning...

When I think of him, the bottom of my heart is a pain. He subconsciously touches the thin paper that depicts the night of Ning Xiao. The paper was a little wrinkled. He licked his lips and raised his hand silently. He wanted to smooth the paper, but when the hand touched it, the blood stuck to the top.

He almost immediately took his hand, fearing that the portrait would be dirty and would not dare to touch it again.

From Fifth Street to Third Street, he continued to be unwilling to ask one by one, but those ghosts said "I have never seen such a man in the portrait."

He walked alone in the endless night, the night was so thick, so long, as if he tried to walk hard, and he could never go to dawn. The ink burned finally got a little tired. He didn't drip in the water, and the grain didn't eat. It was really unsupportable. When I was rushed to see the mouth of the tooth, there was a Wonton stall. When someone was selling it late at night, he went to buy a bowl, and the monks did not pay attention to sneak into the stomach.

The food in the ghost world is cold, and even the swallow does not take the heat.

The ink burns out the sacred light, takes a spoon, and sends it to the ecstasy lamp: "Do you eat or not?"

Of course, the Master will not respond.

When you burn yourself, you eat it and eat it: "But you always don't like wonton, you love sweet. Go back and find you, let's go back, I will make you a pastry every day."

In the silent night, a person sitting in front of the lonely nightingale stall with a lamp, the evening wind and sand, occasionally a few pieces of dead leaves chasing and passing, the land is actually very peaceful at this time.

"Peach blossom cake, sweet-scented osmanthus sugar, walnut cake, cloud cake cake..." He is the same as the soul lamp, as if Chu heard it, he will be willing to take care of him, count for a while, ink burns, "Master, your other soul, where is it?"

The young slender hand stretched out and gently touched the silk surface of the soul-lighting lamp. Just like when he was thirty years old, Chu night was rather dead. He hugged the body in his arms, and he was embarrassed. He said, "Chu Ning, I hate you," but bowed his head and kissed his face.

"Wa, have you been here?"

Suddenly, a broken cockroach sounded. The old man who sells the old man is dizzy, groping and sitting next to him, he should be dead at the end of his life, and a dark face like the poplar wood in the desert is dry and shrinking. He took a cigarette from his shroud and bit it in his mouth. Then he took the old-fashioned kindness and affair with the old man and chatted with him.

The ink burned and sucked the nose, and smiled back: "Well, the first day."

"Yeah, you are very angry. Ask, how do you leave at a young age?"

"Get out of the fire."

"Oh..." The old man was licking the smoke without fire. "It’s a fairy."

"Yeah." The ink nodded and looked at him. He didn't have much hope, but he still took out the picture in his arms and said, "Old man, I want to find someone, this is my master, and it is not long ago. I don't know if you have seen him?"

The old man took the picture, squatting under the lamp, licking the eyes of the haze, and slowly looked at it for a long time.

The ink sighed and tried to take back the painting: "Nothing, I asked a lot of people, you don't know it doesn't matter, anyway, everyone is like this..."

"I have seen him."

"!" The ink was shocked, and the blood rushed almost instantly, and he was busy pulling him. "Old man, have you seen him?!? You, are you not mistaken?"

"No mistakes." The old man sat on the bench cross-legged and slammed his feet. "Looking like this, I can’t see a few in a year. I can’t run, it’s your master.”

The ink burned up and stood up. He felt awkward and bowed to the old man. He looked up and said: "The old man pointed me."

"Oh, little dolls don't have to be so polite. Everyone made a ghost, and they have to go to reincarnation in a blink of an eye. The memories that can last in life can be left for only ten or eight years. The old man’s son went early, seeing your dolls are distressed. "He wiped his tears and licked his nose with his sleeves. This is the way: "The first street in front, the special style palace, have you seen it?"

"See you, where is the master?"

"Yes, it is there."

"What is that place?"

"It is the fourth house of the fourth ghost king." The old man sighed. "The four ghost kings do not live here, but they deliberately let their men repair a palace in Nanke Township. Nothing else, just to collect the beauty of the Yin Cao government. They are under house arrest. The four kings are sexually kinky. After a while, he will come to the palace to pick the acolytes, and men and women will not be jealous. The selected ones will be taken directly to the fourth floor of Hell. If they are not selected, they are said to be rewarded for their hands. Hey, you said this world-"

When he didn't finish his words, he saw that Xiaoxianjun, who was next to him, was holding the lantern next to him, like a wolf dog.

The old man stunned, and then he was envious. He whispered slowly: "Young is good, running really fast..."