man sanctified in death row vest

Chapter 215 One Hundred Years of Solitude (4600 words chapter)
"Brother, do you understand?"

The man shook his head calmly: "No."

The monk patted his head: "Coincidentally, the little monk didn't understand either."

"It's okay." The man took a deep breath: "We have a lot of time."

Since that day.

The man and the monk lived in the deserted mansion.

There are dry fields around the mansion, and the plow is owed, so the monk went down the mountain to buy seeds, plowed the fields, watered and fertilized, and the days became more and more fulfilling.

In front of the court, the man without legs is always in front of the court, sitting and watching the fallen leaves at dusk, the morning sun and morning dew.

After he came home, he seemed to be a different person, always very quiet, and every evening, there was always a childlike smile on his vicissitudes of life.

I lived in the mansion for two years without knowing it.

The old woman's health deteriorated, in fact, before the man returned home.No wonder there is always a strong smell of herbs in the back kitchen.

In the winter of the third year, the old woman caught a cold and coughed continuously.

As the sun set in the west, heavy snow fell, and the mansion covered with a layer of thick snow was dyed with a layer of golden glow in the afterglow of the setting sun.Leaning on crutches, the man happily walked into the snow, letting the icy snow fall on his face, icy, moist, and the melted snow slipped down the corners of his eyes, he smiled.

"Ahem, young master, you seem to like watching the sunset."

The old woman coughed violently, looking at the young master struggling to walk on crutches, her heart ached, but she couldn't help asking.This question has been entrenched in her mind for three full years.

"And snow."

The man smiled slightly: "The color of the setting sun reminds me of the yellow of the desert... The heavy snow reminds me of that mountain. Now, everything is there."

"I, I really want to see the young lady."

The young master once mentioned that he got married outside, his wife is beautiful, her skin is as white as snow, her lips are like cherry red, her arrows are flawless, her fists are rusty - at this time, Aunt Mei doesn't know what "sa" refers to, But she could tell that the young master really liked it.

"When you take care of yourself, you can see her. You have raised me since you were a child, and you are my half-mother. When the spring is warm next year, I will definitely find her back. I will burn a stick of incense in the ancestral hall and pray to my ancestors." Bless you, give birth to a precious son early, and I will toast you a cup of hot elder tea."

"Okay! Young master, you are handsome, and young lady, she is pretty. No matter whether you give birth to a boy or a girl, you are the dragon and phoenix among people. The blood of the Gongsun family will not lose to others. Cough cough cough--"

Every morning, men have the habit of getting up early to paint.

Monks go out to work and support their families.And Mei Niang always fetches water, grinds ink, and prepares painting tools for Zheng Xiu in advance.Zheng Xiu always said that Mei Niang was not in good health, so don't worry about it.Mei Niang said that she was used to grinding ink and preparing pens for the master in the past, but these years the master is gone and he is unfamiliar, and she is not used to it.Now that the young master is back, someone is painting again. She is very happy and not tired at all.When Mei Niang said that, the man could only follow her.

The monk was wearing a coir raincoat. He went down the mountain to buy some medicine and came back with a flushed face, as if he had met some happy event. "Brother, today your paintings are sold at a high price! Someone understands your paintings! You painted monsters and ghosts, thieves and evil men, and the rich businessman said he likes evil things the most!" The monk took out a heavy bag of silver.

"Tsk, people are impetuous."

The man snorted and put away the money.He knows very well that the bullshit he draws is not as good as the ghosts and monsters he draws have no eyes.The local tyrant who just can't understand likes garbage, which is extremely ironic.

After the monk has not fought in the past few years, the world is peaceful, and he has learned a lot of skills by the way.Laundry, cooking, chopping wood, carpentry, embroidery, all proficient.From time to time he will be innocent like a boy, from time to time he will be bright like a bandit, from time to time he will be shy like a girl.

That morning, Zheng Xiu came to the courtyard.It snowed overnight, the branches and the man's eyebrows were white.

When the man saw the empty long table, he was slightly taken aback, and then sat down in a sense of loss, watching the sky, waiting for the morning sun to rise.

This is the first time in three years that he did not paint in the early morning.

Aunt May is dead.

After all, Aunt Mei still didn't survive that cold winter.

She couldn't wait for the young master and young lady to go home hand in hand.

She failed to see the four generations of the Gongsun family living under the same roof.

The monk and the man buried Aunt Mei with their own hands, and solemnly placed her spiritual tablet in the ancestral hall of the Gongsun family for seven days of worship.

On the eighth day after Aunt Mei's death, the man lit a big fire with his own hands and burned down the mansion.

Since then, the Gongsun family has disappeared from the world forever.

"I want to meet Xiaotao."

The man watched the fire burn the ancestral house to ashes with his own eyes. Amidst the ashes in the sky, the silent man suddenly said something to the monk.

The monk was stunned for a moment, then nodded vigorously: "Okay. She is in the imperial city."

Back then, Xie Yunliu used Bai Xiaosheng's friendship to find a rich merchant in the imperial city. The two rich merchants were old and childless, and they treated Xiaotao as their own daughter.

It has been nearly 20 years now.After Aunt Mei's death, the man was in a trance, remembering that there was an ignorant girl like Mei Niang who rubbed ink for him regardless of the weather. At that time, he was concentrating on painting the Xieluo River.

In a blink of an eye, everyone the man knew in this world left one by one, leaving only the monk by his side.

He still failed to draw the "cannibal picture".

He doesn't know how to draw "heart".

It is not difficult to paint mountains, water, people, common people, hustle and bustle, fireworks, and all kinds of human beings.Just talking about painting skills, he has already reached the realm of "Gongsun painting saint" in the past.But he still can't draw a "fresh" human heart.

The common people are still "alive", and he can use thaumaturgy to secretly ingest human souls and condense his painting power.But they are already dead, and the man doesn't know what to do, so that he can paint the dead people vividly and live in the painting in an alternative way.

He has not yet grasped this.

Thinking that the only people he knew in the world were Monk and Xiaotao, the man had a sudden whim and wanted to see her.

half year later.

Two people and one cat stopped and went, and came to the imperial city.

On the way, the monk looked at the little cat that hadn't changed in the past ten years, and wondered: "Brother, is your cat's life a bit longer?"

"It's not surprising that cats that can come back from the desert live longer."

Xiao Fengmiao bared her teeth proudly at the monk.

The horse carriage enters the city, and in the imperial city, singing and dancing are peaceful and lively.

The disability of the man's feet attracted the attention of the common people, who cast their eyes with pity.Men have become accustomed to such prejudices over the years.When passing by Zheng's house, the appearance of Zheng's house is slightly different from that of a hundred years later. I stopped in front of the door for a while. When the monk asked, the man shook his head: "No need."

Looking for the family where Xiaotao was fostered, the man raised his head and couldn't help being taken aback.

It was the Jing family.

A hundred years later, he will be his maidservant - Jing Xuemei's family.

"Shouldn't it be..."

Such a coincidence made him feel a little inexplicably uneasy.After knocking on the door and announcing their intentions, an elderly couple went out to greet them.When they pushed the door, their eyebrows were full of anger, as if they were looking for justice, but when they saw the man swinging empty under the trousers and the two glaring iron crutches in his hand, the anger in the eyes of the elderly couple dissipated, With a sigh:
"You are late."

Hearing this, the man frowned, and when he was about to ask, the monk said bluntly, "Is Xiaotao married?"

The old man looked complicated and nodded.

The man let go of his frowning brows, and smiled at the monk. The monk understood, and bowed his hands in salute for the elder brother. The man said gently: "I met an old friend in the past. I passed by the imperial city. I wanted to talk about it. Since it's not a coincidence, it's counted." gone."

The elegantly dressed old woman opened her mouth, but said nothing, and quietly tugged at her husband's sleeve.

Seeing that the two were about to leave, the old man couldn't help but said: "Please stay!"

The man and the monk look back.

"Excuse me... two Gao surnames?"

The monk first said, "Thank you Yunliu."

The man was silent for a moment: "...Gongsun Mo."

"Gongsun Mo, Gongsun Mo, Gongsun Mo." The couple chanted the name, struggled several times, and the old man finally let out a long sigh: "The little girl is always inside, please come in."

The Jing couple brought them into the inner room.

Finally, they came to a row of spiritual tablets.

Xiaotao's spiritual position is impressively above - "The Spiritual Position of Xiao Tao, the Old Daughter Gongsun Jing's Family"!
Gongsun Jing!Gongsun Jing!Gongsun Jing!

"A few years ago, my little girl learned about the Flying Star in the desert, and learned that her sweetheart, Gongsun Mo, was buried in the desert. Since then, she has been depressed and depressed, and she eats and speaks little. When she left last year, let the two of us stand in front of her spiritual tablet, Write the surname of 'Gongsun'." The Jing couple broke down in tears when they said this: "The little girl said that she could not marry the Gongsun family during her lifetime, and she hoped to be with Gongsun Gongzi forever after her death. To sleep together after death. This is my little girl's long-cherished wish."

"what……"

"what……"

"what……"

The man fell to the ground with a plop, breathing heavily, and a strange sound came out of his hoarse throat.

"what……"

"what……"

"all gone……"

"all gone……"

"Everyone... is gone..."

"gone……"

"I'm the only one left..."

……

……

Xiaotao's death was like the straw that broke the camel's back.

He wandered the streets on crutches like a walking dead.

He couldn't draw, couldn't draw, couldn't draw.

"Gongsun Mo."

A well-dressed old man with a jade ring on his thumb stopped him on the street.

The monk who had been quietly protecting the man behind him was taken aback suddenly: "National Teacher!"

The monk had never met this person when he was in the army, he always felt that this person was difficult to deal with, and his intuition told him that the national teacher was not an ordinary person.Now that they reunited in the imperial city, the national teacher stopped the elder brother to make the monk's heart flutter, and he had a bad premonition.

When the monk was about to step forward, Gongsun Mo and the national teacher seemed to be in two worlds. They were getting farther and farther away from him. The street noise suddenly stopped, and the monk could no longer hear the slightest sound in his ears.

"Excuse me." The old man helped Gongsun Mo who was stumbled, with a gentle smile on his face, he whispered in the man's ear in a tone that seemed to be bewitching: "I am the imperial teacher of the court."

"Gongsun Mo" looked up, his eyes instantly ignited with rage: "It's you!"

"It seems that you understand." Faced with Gongsun Mo's anger, the national teacher smiled slightly: "You don't understand, what the old man did was a righteous act."

"fart!"

"I don't ask you to understand the old man's lifelong ambition." The national teacher said: "But the old man can help you."

Without waiting for the man to answer, the national teacher extinguished the flame in the man's heart with a sentence like a torrent of flood: "This old man can tell you how to replace the Xieluo River...from there."

"This old man can return your love, Xie Luohe, to you!"

……

The national teacher took Gongsun Mo to a secret room.

The secret room is dark and deep underground.

This place seems to be at the bottom of the palace, no one in the world knows that there is such a place hidden at the bottom of the palace.

The sound of whining wind came from the empty secret room, which looked like howling ghosts, and it could be seen that there was another dark ventilation hole above the hole.There are countless chains hanging above, hanging empty, with the breeze, gently swinging, making rattling noises from time to time.

"It doesn't matter if you hate the old man or blame the old man! The matter has come to this point, if you are willing, you can listen to the old man's words. If you don't want to, the old man will send you away, and the rest of your life will be rich and prosperous, and you can enjoy it endlessly!"

"Say!"

The man gritted his teeth and said a word, revealing boundless hatred.

"Xie Luohe was just taken away by Chang An, she didn't die. It's just that if you want to replace her from Chang An, it's hard to reach the sky. Only in a hundred years, when Chang An and Chang Shi are very close, you can borrow the painting skills of a born stranger, Draw your thoughts, draw your day and night with her, draw her... When the hundred years are up, you will be able to bring her back from the eternal darkness!"

"But I am not a stranger!"

"Now, you are!" The national teacher laughed, and with a flick of his sleeve, a pale and withered arm was exposed, pointing at Gongsun Mo.The moment the arm touched Gongsun Mo, it seemed to come alive in an instant. It grabbed Gongsun Mo's wrist tightly and broke his hand.

The five fingers of the severed hand bent like a big mouth, crushing the broken bones of the man and eating into his flesh and blood.

After a scream, the corpse-like severed hand disappeared, and on the back of his hand, there were two twisted black characters, like birthmarks.

"It's really you!"

At night, the man shed a layer of human skin all over his body, and the human skin turned into fine powder, which spread all over the floor.

Men are thinner.

The next day, a long table was set up in the secret room, and around the man, there were hundreds of piles of white paper, each of which was as tall as two people.

The voice of the national teacher echoed in the secret room.

"Jump down!"

"Jump down!"

"Jump down!"

The moment I wrote the pen, "Plop!", and the sound of falling water came from my ears.

Ink and wash form grotesque images in the distorted world, and behind him are doors that have already been opened.At the end of the winding road is a cliff.

The man jumped down.

That is the abyss.

He couldn't remember how long he had fallen, or how deep he had fallen.

At the end of the abyss, there is a door.

He landed hard on the door, slamming it open.

"It's missing."

"I can't take the souls of the dead from the world, but I can use my thoughts to redraw them."

"Xie Yunliu is right. The third time a person dies is when he is forgotten by the world."

"I can't forget them, so I can paint them."

"They're alive."

"Live in remembrance."

The man's eyes are bright, but he is indifferent and cold.

Gently twist the Luohe River, and tell a piece of paper, a love story from a lifetime ago.

Who is it that puts the story into the painting,

I think of her as I write.

Snow mountains, deserts, mountains and rivers, sun and moon, rivers and lakes, years.

He draws every minute and every second.

Day and night.

He can smile when painting snow-capped mountains, close his eyes when painting deserts, get drunk when painting wine tables, and harbor resentment when painting national teachers.

His paintings fell to the ground one by one.

In every painting, there are her and them.

The picture scrolls fell to the ground, twisted strangely, and turned into pictures of evil ghosts.

He could no longer hear the sounds around him, nor could he see the surrounding scenery.Even if the national teacher would take away his paintings every day and send them back after a while, he would not be able to notice.

He didn't eat, drink, talk, or sleep, and became thinner and thinner.

One year, two years, ten years, 50 years.

He is like a dry bone.

His body gradually bent, and his bent back was like a bow.

From a distance, the whole person looks like a hand.

A hand that can only paint.

It looks like a bone-like hand.

His reputation is getting louder and louder in the world, and he is known as "painting ghosts".It's just that no one has ever really seen the real face of "Painting Ghost Gongsun Mo", as if he really became a ghost hiding in the world.Seeing his paintings in emptiness, but not seeing his people.As the legend spread more and more evil, his paintings also spread more and more widely.

In the blink of an eye, a hundred years have passed, and dynasties have changed.

No one knows that in the underground of the imperial city, there is a "ghost" who is called "painting ghost" in the world.

Beside him, there are piles of ghostly works.

There was a small "hole" behind him from some unknown day.

That hole just kept getting bigger and bigger.

A hundred years ago, it was already the size of a palm.

someday.

The man's withered palm lightly pressed against a piece of white paper.

In the secret room, white paper trembled violently and flew towards the man's hand from all directions.

All the papers are stacked on top of each other. On the screen, the scenery is ever-changing, sometimes it is the scorching sun, sometimes it is snowing, sometimes it is a winding path, sometimes it is desert yellow sand, and sometimes it is a wedding candle.

In the end, the picture became a mountain, a tomb, and a figure from the back, which turned towards her.

In the picture scroll, the graceful figure turned around slowly, the corners of the woman's lips were curled up, but her eyes were empty.

"It's just... the finishing touch."

The man closed his eyes, breathed weakly, and murmured: "Back then, I still owed you a painting. Now, I don't owe you any more."

He bit his finger and squeezed out the last drop of blood.On the tip of the pen, a bright red dot slowly moved towards the blank face under the man's trembling hand.

When he was about to close his eyes, the man looked at the blank face, his whole body was shocked, and he stopped completely.

　Ask for a monthly pass!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)