Chapter 91 Killing People in Tiefang Wooden House

The big black umbrella is like a black lotus, slowly flowing and floating away in the rain and fog of Chang'an City.

Sangsang let go of the corner sleeve in his hand, held the corner sleeve tightly, raised his face and frowned, and asked, "Young Master, what were you talking about in the princess's mansion before? I see those nanny palace ladies His face is ugly."

Ning Que looked at the little girl's pretentious and calm expression and couldn't help but think of the scenes that happened frequently in Minshan Mountains in those years. When he carried her on his back, he crawled from this dangerous peak to another dangerous peak and stolen from this mountain village to another mountain village. , I have to be busy exploring the path, and I have to be busy telling fairy tales to the little girl in the basket to coax her. I was so busy that I couldn't help but smile and rub her head, saying, "Telling fairy tales... You know me This is a specialty."

Sangsang asked curiously, "Which one is talking about? Cinderella or three little pigs?"

"Little Prince."

Sangsang frowned and asked seriously, "Little Prince? Can he understand?"

Ning Que was stunned and thought that this was indeed a problem.

In the deep spring drizzle, the master and servant chatted all the way north, passed Tongxiaofang and returned to the East City. Instead of entering Linfoseven Lane, they walked around the entrance of the alley and walked deeper into the East City. Lao Bizhai was resting in his arms today. At some point, Sangsang quietly hugged a Pu knife tightly wrapped in cloth, with a slight rain mark on his shoulder.

The rain gradually became heavier, and the pedestrians on the streets and alleys of Dongcheng were forced to return to their homes or workshops. Ning Que and Sangsang walked outside a remote poor man's house in Dongcheng and stopped and stood with a big black umbrella. Under the eaves of the incense-loving Haotian Gods' Temple, he looked into the yard and listened silently to the sound of ironwork coming from the rain.

Sangsang said quietly, "The iron shop will close in a while. The young masters will be busy packing up today's orders, and Chen Zixian will go back to the backyard to rest. I heard that he rarely personally took the hammer over the years. At that time He is the only one left in the yard, and it just so conveniently it rained today."

Ning Que looked at the dim light of lead clouds in the sky and calculated the time silently. He estimated that the time should be almost done. He handed the big black umbrella in his hand to Sangsang, said waiting for me, and then took out a pony from behind. He put his hat on his head and walked towards the west of Fangxi. He walked through two alleys in the increasing rainfall, close to the backyard of the iron shop in the Fangxi.

The sole of the tough boots stepped on the bumpy stone path in the square, making a slight sound in the accumulated water, which was not noticeable at all in the rainy day. Ning Que looked at the simple wooden door not far away and walked forward slowly , holding Bubu Pu Dao's left hand became tighter and tighter, and he silently recalled all the information about the second name in his heart.

The names on the oil paper are important figures in the case of the Xuanwei General's Mansion and the village slaughter in Yanjing. They are the results of Zhuoer's investigation when he was a spy in the military headquarters under Xiahou. They are exchanged for his sweat and life. information.

Chen Zixian, forty-seven years old, was awarded by the court for his first general Xuanwei to treason Lin Guangyuan. Later, in the fourth year of Tianqi, he was stripped of all his merits and expelled from the army. Later, the family suffered another disaster. His wife divorced him and returned to his hometown with two young sons. However, this person stayed in Chang'an City and became a master in a iron shop in the Poor Minfang in Dongcheng. He was poor and unbearable to speak.

After the family killing case and village slaughtering case, except for two or three high-ranking officials who still enjoyed the reputation of being a rich man, the rest of the people were very bad. The imperial censor who had already died at his hands. Living in depressed life, some people are frightened all day long, while Chen Zixian, behind the courtyard gate in the rain, lived in poverty.

Ning Que couldn't understand why this was. According to common inferences or common plots in novels, when the guys who had harmed loyal and good conspirators began to revenge, they must have been burning fire and cooking oil and flowers blooming in a rampant and happy way, so that the people who revenge can be more The innate sense of justice and pleasure, but the fact is not the case. Those who he is determined to take revenge and kill do not seem to live better than him.

I vaguely guessed that it should be the Emperor's method, but he could not confirm it and was unwilling to think about it again. Today was raining and the Princess's Mansion was summoned. It was a great time to kill and take revenge. No matter how the government investigates it in the future, I believe He would not doubt him, nor would he dare to doubt him, this is more important.

He looked down slightly at the rain dripping from the edge of the hat, moved slowly, closer to the door.

The surface of the painted wooden door was slightly wet, and his fingers pressed on the door panel felt a little cold. He listened carefully to the sound from the iron workshop in the yard, and listened to the sound of the heavy hammers hitting the anvil iron more and more loudly. It was dense, and his left hand, holding the cloth-wrapped Pu Dao, slowly lifted it up, and his right hand gently pushed open the wooden door.

The old door shaft moistened by the rain let out a whimpering sound. Ning Que, wearing a hat, grabbed a knife and walked down the broken stone steps calmly , looked at the old man squatting outside the woodshed in the yard, and said : "Chen Zixian?"

The old man outside the woodshed was wearing an old thin jacket, with traces of burning fire on the corners of his shoulders and sleeves. Several black cotton stretched out from the cracks of the crisp cloth, looking a bit miserable. feel. The old man's hair was tied around one place, and his thick and long hands were holding the axe and wooden blocks, respectively, and was chopping wood.

The old man raised his head, and a strange color flashed in his muddy eyes. He looked at Ning Que who pushed open the yard door, looked at the shadow under the hat, wanted to see his face clearly, and after a moment of silence, he said, "I yes."

Ning Que stopped, looked up slightly at the simple courtyard, and confirmed that all the apprentices were in the front yard, and there was no one in the courtyard. He turned around and closed the gate of the courtyard, and untied the belt of the hat on his neck with his right hand. Then slowly grasped the front handle of the cloth-wugged Pu knife and continued to walk towards the old retired officer.

The hat fell on the rainy ground.

Chen Zixian blinked slowly, and his left hand, whose fingernails were covered with black mud, released the firewood, wiped the front of his clothes, then reached behind his waist and held a knife, while raising his right hand holding the axe. Looking at the pale-faced boy who came from the wind and rain, he said hoarsely, "We're finally here."

Ning Que's knife is here.

Lao Bizhai, Linsui, used rice water to sharpen the sharp blade for more than ten days, pulled it out of the sheath, easily cut the old cloth wrapped tightly outside the sheath, cut the wind, rain, and move forward without any progress Killed Chen Zixian's neck.

Chen Zixian stood up at the sword, and the two swords intersected and made a crisp buzzing sound, and the raindrops on the blade splashed out.

At this moment, a rapid iron thunder sounded in the iron yard ahead, covering all the sounds of knife in the yard.

Shiny, in the heavy rain, Ning Que held the knife in both hands, looked forward without expression, cut his neck and beheaded and cut his belly, the Pu Dao stirred up the wind and rain, and snuggled with the knife and axe in the old man's hand and rubbed and dragged each other coldly .

Dangdangdangdang, beside the fiery red stove, the apprentices numbly with thick red iron, waving and hammering, and then hitting each other. The sound of wind and rain outside the yard was loud and they heard nothing.

The sound of hissing came out, the thin robe was cut open, the axe was shaken off, the wrist was cut off, the muffled groans in the wind and rain continued, and the pile of firewood outside the room was scattered all over the ground, and in a moment, Ning Que split seventeen out The knife, and Chen Zixian blocked the first sixteen swords.

Then the sound of the knife disappeared without a trace, leaving only the sound of wind and rain and the thunder hammering the chopping board.

Chen Zixian fell to the pile of firewood, his body was covered with mud and water stains, and a few drops of blood were added to his old and dark face. The thin jacket between his chest and abdomen was cut out countless holes, and the gray cotton was stretched around. The cut in the middle was extremely deep, all the way to his bones and internal organs, and blood and other colors of body fluids kept emitting.

The rain dripped from the eaves, dripped onto his gray hair, dripped onto the sad wrinkles between his forehead, and then flowed through his dark cheeks, quickly rinsing the drops of blood.

Ning Que lowered his head and slowly closed his knife. Looking at his rapidly rising and falling chest, looking at the extremely dangerous axe mark on his chest, he couldn't help frowning. Unexpectedly, an ordinary general in the Tang Dynasty was tormenting at the bottom of the market. After so many years of hardship, he still has such strong combat power.

Chen Zixian looked at the boy in front of him with a turbid look. There seemed to be a lot of phlegm in his throat. He coughed a few times in pain, coughed up two mouthfuls of bloody phlegm, and said weakly: "I thought I had been forgotten by this world for a long time. Now."

"You are indeed the most forgotten among those people. I think it is probably because of the people who betray the Lord and seek honor. No one in the court dares to use you boldly, and I don't know if you have regretted it over the years. "

Ning Que wiped the cold rain on his face and looked at the dying old man and said, "But it is precisely because you have been forgotten by the world that I want to kill you, so it won't cause too much trouble. In addition, I passed the exam. The academy is here, killing you is regarded as an essential part of the celebration, just like flowers and doves."

Chen Zixian's old and weak eyes were full of confusion and he whispered, "Give me some fun."

"It's still early, and it's still a long time for your poor apprentices to complete today's order."

Ning Que looked up at the sky, the rain clouds drooped with pearl curtains, and he couldn't see where the sun was, but he knew he had a lot of time and said softly: "As for things like happiness, you have let me do it over the years. I'm very unhappy, so don't expect to die too much."

"I have a poem to read for you." He looked at the dying old man in the pile of firewood, with no expression on his face, and said calmly: "I came from the mountains, rivers, rivers, I came from the Yan land on the grassland, and I came from the general's mansion. Come, take your life."

Hearing the three words of General's Mansion, Chen Zixian's turbid eyes suddenly became brighter, and the expression on his face gradually became relieved. His trembling hands subconsciously scratched the wet pile of firewood, staring at Ning Que's childish face. He said in a trembling voice: "So that's it. It turns out... the general's son is still alive. You... you said... you were admitted to the academy. It's so good. I have lived so tired over the years that I can know before I die... ...The general's son is still alive... he lives pretty well... I can really rest in peace."

"Who is not tired when a person is alive?" Ning Que looked down at the potholes hit by the rain in front of his feet, and whispered: "To learn calligraphy, to learn Olympiad mathematics, to learn piano painting, every weekend I had to sit on the back seat of my mother's bicycle and run around. In the end, the Young Palace is more familiar than home. Do you think I'm tired?"

Chen Zixian didn't understand this passage, covered the bleeding blade and shook his head in pain.