He wiped the tears from his eyes to the old man.
Now that his wife is awake, he can go to work in the prison.
It's just that Old Man Xiang looks even weirder to his colleagues today.
After work, Old Man Xiang bought two live fish and a live hen from Fangshi and hurried home.
He doesn't know what to do.
Life must go on.
He could only hope for a miracle to happen. Maybe one day he would meet the immortal master again and be able to cure his son.
Thinking of the soul-honoring flag in his hand, Old Man Xiang decided to use the soul-honoring flag in exchange for a glimmer of hope.
This is the magic cultivator's treasure.
There were many people protecting them on the way back, they were powerful and strange.
If he dedicated it to the immortal master, he should be able to invite the immortal master to heal his son.
This was the best solution he had thought about all day.
I was getting ready to go home and tell my wife and son the good news.
open the door.
Enter the inner hall.
What happened in front of him made him freeze on the spot.
Live fish and chickens fell to the ground.
His son, who was paralyzed in bed, and his wife, who was taking care of him by his side, were no longer alive.
He rushed over hastily.
Looking at the rat poison scattered on the ground and his wife and children foaming at the mouth.
He collapsed and knelt on the ground.
"ah!"
A cry of pain.
Like the roar of a wounded beast.
I don't know how long it took, but I stood up to the old man.
He is still older and his body is more stooped, but he seems to be awake.
The fire in his eyes burned again.
Tu Shanjun used to think that Old Man Xiang's life was too depressing, but now Old Man Xiang is very much like a person.
Li Qingfeng.
Hatred can awaken a person.
Not to mention someone who has nothing.
He is like a lonely ghost lingering in this world, only seeking revenge.
Sharpen the knife, store the dagger, and bring the poison and smoke.
Take the Zunhun Banner.
Donning a black robe, Old Man Xiang headed to Fangshi.
Liang Du looks like a mountain ink painting at night.
She is also like a beautiful girl in a boudoir, painting her eyebrows, painting her fan, and dressing herself up.
The lights are bright, and the painted boats on the small glacier are swimming.
The music is melodious.
He hurried towards the old man and knocked on the small door he came from that morning.
Dwarf Mouse was a little surprised. He hadn't seen Old Man Xiang for ten days and a half in the past, but he had been moving around more recently.
"I want to see the old ghost."
The old man's voice was hoarse and he revealed a pair of bloodshot eyes.
The dwarf mouse did not stop him. At this time, the old ghost had returned from work: "Please come in, sir."
There are not many people in the hospital.
Not many people know about this courtyard.
After a while, the gloomy old ghost came out.
"I want to know where my son went a few days ago."
The old man's remaining arm was always pressed against the knife.
The old ghost didn't say anything more, but took out a silk book and handed it to Old Man Xiang: "Sir Xiang, this is the list of people who injured your son. I can't find the person behind the scenes."
There was regret in his expression. After all, he was just an underground rat in Liangdu.
Although he is considered the king of mice, he will still die if he encounters a cat.
And the one wearing official fur is the cat.
The dignitaries are even more powerful tigers than cats.
We can't afford to mess with these gutter bastards.
Being able to give Old Man Xiang this support is already taking a huge risk.
No one knows whether the nobles above will anger them because of this incident, leading to disaster.
Xiang grabbed the silk book from the old man and said in a cold voice: "From now on, our kindness is clear."
"No one owes anything."
After he finished speaking, he turned around and left.
The dwarf rat frowned and said angrily: "What a stubborn old man who doesn't know what's right. Boss, you took such a big risk to help him find someone, and he still has this attitude."
The old ghost looked complicated, shook his head and said, "Master Xiang, you don't want to implicate us."
"This matter is very complicated. The quarrel between the nobles affects the fish in the pond. If they fall to the nobles behind you, they will have to be liquidated even if they hand over power."
"My poor brother, I will have to lie on the bed for the rest of my life."
Having said this, the gloomy old ghost's face turned full of anger, then returned to normal.
He has seen a lot of these things.
Growing up in the sewers, I witnessed a lot of bloodshed and intrigues.
Now we are just getting closer to them.
The dwarf mouse seemed to still want to find a place to prove his point of view, and then said: "Boss, even if we give him the list, we don't dare to attack the old man."
"He is old."
The phrase "he is old" seems to have wiped out all the feelings and sentiments in one fell swoop.
The old ghost didn't object.
really.
Xiang Hu is getting old after all.
He is not the top expert among the 100 embroidery guards and the 24 yamen back then.
There is nothing better than a hero dying late.
He hunched over the old man.
Even if his strength regresses, he is still a second-rate master with a strong internal energy.
I have practiced the family-inherited martial arts for 40 to 50 years.
The method of fighting is like using the arms and fingers.
He can walk through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and monsters and monsters cannot kill him.
Killing people is just returning to their old profession.
"Wild Dog Gang."
A lively gambling stall.
Dim light.
The red-eyed gambler shouted loudly about the number of points he had bet, making the table vibrate.
It was crowded and crowded.
From time to time, people would shout out to borrow money.
There are also bad gamblers who were thrown out by the vicious guards at gambling stalls.
In the back hall of the casino, a man with a scar on his face was working hard and sweating profusely.
Just when he was ready, he suddenly felt a slight coldness coming from his neck.
Suddenly my hair stood on end and I became paralyzed.
Just as he was about to scream, a sharp dagger was pressed directly against his neck, and blood flowed down the wound.
Looking at the woman beneath him, she had already fainted.
"Hero, spare your life."
"Spare my life."
"I didn't harm a good woman. This is a secret door in an alley outside Yihonglou."
The scarred man raised his hands and explained quickly.
He was afraid that some chivalrous knight might come after hearing about his deeds of bullying others.
After just one meeting, he knew that he was no match.
The person behind him is definitely a great master.
Without realizing it, he knocked the woman unconscious and put the dagger on his neck, causing him to tilt his neck upward and unable to move at all.
If you were to have your head chopped off by a knight because of your gossip, you would really be unwilling to die.
"Wild Dog Gang, Chen Quan."
"One of the deputy gang leaders of the Wild Dog Gang." His voice was old, but sonorous and powerful, full of energy.
It sounds strangely familiar.
Even Chen Quan couldn't remember where he had heard it.
"I'm here to ask you one thing. If you answer well, your life will be saved."
"If you don't answer well, life would be worse than death."
As a hereditary embroidered guard from a hundred households, he naturally masters the techniques of extracting confessions that are rare for ordinary people.
Sometimes no evidence is needed at all and a confession can be coerced as long as there is suspicion.
They can't be taken back to jail, so before killing people, they must extract confessions and obtain information on the spot.
He had countless ways to get Chen Quan to talk.
"Excuse me, hero." Chen Quan responded quickly.
"Who ordered you to beat me?"
Hearing the old man Xiang's question, Chen Quan's pupils narrowed suddenly, his maroon eyes were full of fear, and he opened his mouth to shout: "You are!"
"Crack."
As soon as the old man turned his thumb, Chen Quan's jaw had been lifted off.
The thumb rests on the chin.
Chen Quan was horrified to find that he couldn't make any sound at all.
A deaf-mute person can still make a sound, but it's like he can't speak anymore, he doesn't even have a sound.
Tu Shanjun couldn't help but sigh: "What a good technique."
It is not that there is no merit in the secular world.
They cannot practice, but they have studied martial arts to the extreme, and their control of the meridians and acupuncture points of the human body is flawless.