Malzahar couldn't help but think of the rich man who left the big bone stick and poisonous buns on the third floor of the hotel. If he had money, would life be easier?
"Dad, I'm sorry, I can't take you home..."
Malzahar found one of the roads of despair, not the most desperate.
In the bustling crowd, no one helped, and no one came up to ask what was wrong.
It was obvious that they owed their father, but at the moment it seemed as if his father owed a foreign debt. It was probably because they knew that his father was going to seek medical treatment from an old witch doctor who had swindled money, and they were afraid that his father would borrow money.
Just like the female stall owner who made the suggestion, she wanted her father to give all the money to the old witch doctor, so that no one would compete with her family for business.
What did Dad get in exchange for his honesty and kindness...
At this moment, all Malzahar could recall was the happy laughter that echoed in the streets.
The small body tried its best to support his father's cold body. Malzahar took his father to a remote place. Facing the night, he started digging a hole with a stolen shovel. I don't know when a lame man staggered away.
He came over, knelt down on the ground and kowtowed three times to the boy, then took the bloody shovel from the boy's bloody hands, and started digging the hole lamely.
Although they don't have enough to eat, adults are still stronger than children after all.
After the old lame man and his son bid farewell, Birrell hugged the air, and the man lay down in the yellow sand with a gentle expression.
…
It was already late at night when he returned the shovel. Malzahar carefully opened the door, only to see his mother sitting on the bench made by his father, lighting an oil lamp, knitting straw sandals.
There was cold risotto on the table, and the largest bowl looked a bit eye-catching.
"Malzahar, why are you crying? Where is your father? I thought you would come back together. Is he still setting up a stall? Did he hit you again?"
In the dilapidated tiled wooden house, Lydia looked at her hands wrapped with cloth strips in confusion, her eyes red, like her son who had just cried loudly.
She still didn't know that her son was racking his brains to try to deceive her.
"Dad...he went out with Uncle Duncan. Uncle Duncan said that he found an ancient tomb that had not been dug outside. In order not to be taken advantage of by others, Dad asked me to come back and take care of the stall. He decided to go with me
Uncle Duncan tries his luck."
"Duncan? Huh, I didn't expect that stingy guy to be so generous one day... maybe he can really dig out some treasures this time. Then our family will have a good meal of meat to help you grow taller."
The woman's mood improved a lot in an instant. The desperate illusion finally faded from her mind, and Malzahar had a forced smile on her face.
"Mom, your illness will get better soon."
"Silly boy, mommy believes in you. I'll go and heat up the rice for you. Since your daddy won't be back today, just eat your daddy's share. I know you, the silly boy, are very good at eating. But we usually don't
The whole family depends on your father setting up a stall to support the family, so your father must be fed first..."
Watching his nagging mother leave with the bowl in hand, Malzahar just sat on the edge of the bed and was about to take a breath. The next moment, he suddenly burst into tears and ran towards the kitchen without even putting on his shoes.
The bowl had been smashed to pieces, and the thin woman lay on the ground and stopped breathing.
Malzahar knelt on the ground, knowing that he would never hear the worried and nagging woman speak again.
"Why! Why do you want me to see this! I don't want to see this!
I just want my parents to be healthy. Why can’t such a simple wish come true? Why!
"
The cripple who was guarding the door heard the boy's loud cry. He hesitated for a moment, then opened the ajar door and walked into the home. He soon saw the completely collapsed child kneeling in the kitchen.
The cold risotto spilled on the ground made the lame man's stomach growl. This time, the lame man did not pick up anything from the ground to eat. Instead, he limped to the boy's side, knelt down on the ground, and spoke in a confused voice.
"You are a prophet, you are a great prophet, you can see the future, you can see the future, I know, I know, you can see everyone's future, tell me, tell me, my future
What is it, what is your future? Tell me, tell me..."
Malzahar bit his lip and knew that even if he cried, no one in the world would feel sad for his tears. The boy stopped crying and looked at the lame uncle beside him with red eyes.
He saw three ferocious domestic hunting dogs knocking down the lame man from behind. The hunting dogs tore out the lame uncle's throat with their fangs, devoured the lame uncle's body, and tore the lame uncle into pieces of meat until the hounds'
The owner laughed and opened the curtain, and when he poked his head out of the carriage, the hunting dog regained its ferocity and turned into a wagging tail.
Malzahar recognized the familiar agate ring from that hand.
In the slums of Amakhara, no one could find any fatter, more delicious, white and tender fingers than these, but the dog only ate the lame uncle and not this finger, because the finger was the dog's owner.
If you can't kill the lame uncle today, the lame uncle will die in that person's hands tomorrow.
The lame uncle will die like his parents, worthless.
Just like his parents, they died worthless...
I can't do anything, I can't change anything, I can only watch the established facts happen before my eyes.
"You will die under the bite of the hunting dogs. The person who released the dogs is the person who threw the poisonous buns to you today. He is sitting in the carriage and watching you being killed by his dogs."
Malzahar's voice was very hoarse, not at all like the voice a five-year-old boy could make. However, the somewhat crazy lame man was convinced, and knelt on the ground tremblingly, kowtowing to the little boy again and again.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "Save me, please save me, you are a great prophet, you can definitely save me, you saved my life today, and you will also save me tomorrow."
You can save my life, I listen to you, I will listen to you in everything, please save me, Prophet, please save me..."
The boy moved his empty eyes away from his mother and recalled what his father had said to him before he was alive.
"Did I save you?"
"Yes, Prophet, you saved me."
Standing up from the ground, Malzahar whispered to the lame man.
"Go get the shovel from the house. At least in the end, I want my mom and dad to sleep together."
…
"Have you heard? The only one who died in the Biler family is Biler's son Malzaha. I have seen since I was a child that the kid with a brain problem is a broomstick. Sooner or later, I will kill Biler and his wife.
Damn it, I’m not telling you, I really need to stay away from that disaster star in the future.”
"It's a pity that such an honest man as Birrell died so early. I was still thinking about asking Birrell to build me two sets of chairs when my daughter gets married. I only have so little money on hand. If he dies, I
Who should I call?"
"Go find Marilyn? Isn't her stall right next to Birrell's stall? Her husband is also good at craftsmanship."
"But forget it, Marilyn raised the price of things the day after she found out that Birrell was dead. Before, her carpentry charges were higher than Birrell's. Now it's even more outrageous. A chair actually costs one silver coin.
, It’s simply crazy! Alas, I still owe Birrell a silver coin and I haven’t paid him. If I had known that Marilyn, a money-seeking woman, is so annoying, I might as well have given Birrell more business..."
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Birrell are not in good health. Don't bury that child Malzahar. What can a five-year-old child understand? Maybe he will understand when he grows up..."
"Yes, it's too bitter, too bitter..."
The slums of Amakhla have not changed much from usual. Most people are looking sad and worried about their livelihood today. Only a few people can sit at a high place safely and look down at the living beings that are running around blindly like ants.
If there has been a change, it would be that many people found that Biler who set up a stall had turned into his five-year-old child. The lame man who used to beg in hotels and stalls no longer begged, but followed the five-year-old child.
Boy setting up a stall.
"Malzahar... This is the money I owe your father. I was too tight to pay it back before, but now... Well, I'm sorry about your father. If you have any difficulties in the future, you can come to me and I can help.
I will definitely help, after all your father helped our family a lot when he was alive."
Taking the twenty copper coins handed over by the man, Malzahar nodded calmly.
"Thanks."
Looking at the boy who was becoming more and more stunned, the man sighed and asked again.
"Malzahar, are you planning to take over your father's grocery stall? Do you want me to help you organize it?"
Finally taking a look at the man, Malzahar had a grateful smile on his face.
"Uncle, no need. I plan to close the stall after selling my dad's things, and I won't open a grocery stall in the future."
"Then how are you going to live?"
"Prophet! He is a prophet!"
The lame man suddenly spoke, startling the man. Malzaha pulled the lame man's hand and calmed the limp man down.
"I'm currently learning the art of divination on my own. Maybe I can become a fortune teller and earn some Hukou money."
"This... ugh!"
More convinced that there was something wrong with Malzahar's brain, the man sighed and left.
Malzahar no longer cared about other people's opinions of him. The boy just sat silently on the bench waiting for the next customer. With the products sold at low prices, he believed that he would soon sell out everything on the stall.
The rich businessman who drove the dog the day before yesterday had no choice but to give up because he couldn't find the lame Stone. Today, he saw the vision of the lame being taken away by Amakra's sergeants in the evening and put into a dungeon to be killed. He attacked the lame three times in a row.
As if he would not give up until the cripple was killed, Malzahar knew that this matter could not be avoided, and he needed to understand it no matter what.
There was no way he could survive in the Kosai Desert in the west with the lame man escaping from Amakra. Going east into Icathia, which made the Shurima people change their minds, was seeking death. The world was so big that he couldn't find it.
A place to stay.
After all, he was still a child. After thinking for a while, Malzahar couldn't think of a way out and looked at the lame man a little irritably. The lame man, who had been paying attention to Malzahar, opened his mouth and asked.
"Prophet, what did you see?"
"I'm not a prophet, don't call me a prophet, just call me a grasshopper. People living in the Akmala slums have a miserable life. Maybe they are not as good as grasshoppers. At least the grasshoppers on the grassland have
Eat grass.”
After first refuting the lame man's name for himself, Malzahar explained.
"Uncle Lame, if you are destined to die today, this is an unchangeable fact. Will you accept it calmly?"
"If my death is the will of the prophet, I will accept it calmly."
"Why? Aren't you very afraid of death and don't want to die? Why are you willing to accept death now?"
"Everyone will die one day. If I can die in the promise of the prophet, then my life will be meaningful."
I don't know when Malzahar started to understand the lame man's words.
Unknowingly, it was already afternoon, and the items on the grocery stalls were getting less and less. After learning that Bilor’s stupid son had been deceived by a low-priced seller, the people in the entire Amakra slum took action, even if they didn’t want to buy.
Let's take a look. Finally, when the sun began to disappear, the fool who bought out the grocery store at a low price with a arrogant attitude of taking care of his children had left. Malzahar patted his butt and stood up with his bulging money bag.
.
The money was enough for him to leave Amakra, not go to the Xiaosai Desert, nor to the terrible Ikasia. He believed that as long as he moved forward, he would always be able to find a place to stand.
As for that shabby but cozy hut, it was no longer a home after mom and dad left.
"We have to leave. If we don't leave, you will die."
"Prophet, will I die?"
"I saw your death, but I didn't want you to die."
"Then I won't die."
The crazy lame man became more coherent in his speech at this moment, which made Malzahar suddenly become curious about the origin of the lame man's uncle, because many of the things the lame man said did not look like things that a beggar could say.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you are a prophet."
The lame man's extremely certain look made Malzahar remember the somewhat awkward Shurima term 'prophet' in his mind. He didn't know whether it was the word prophet that made the lame man choose to believe in him, or whether it was the result of saving the lame man that made the lame man choose.
trust yourself.
There are still many issues that need to be thought about, but no matter what, we have to go now.
He could even hear the rustling sounds of armor and spears vibrating the ground, causing burrowing gerbils to flee in all directions.
The two of them didn't even collect the stalls, and walked towards the northeast gate of Amakra together. At the same time, a group of soldiers who had accepted bribes were divided into two waves to block the grocery stalls and Bilor's house. The soldiers' marching routes happened to be staggered.
It blocked the path of Malzahar and Cripple, so that the two groups did not meet at all.
Malzahar and the two successfully left the city, avoiding the murderous attack of the wealthy businessman.
