Wang Jin squinted his eyes, pointed the muzzle of his gun at the person coming, and looked up and down.
The man who calls himself Song Paitou uses crutches, but it can still be seen that he is tall and burly.
Layers of cloth wrapped him tightly, leaving only his hands and face exposed.
The exposed skin has become dark and reddish due to constant exposure to wind and sun, and even has a scaly texture.
His dark face was not good-looking at all, but he shaved his head for the convenience of fishing, which made him look even more mature.
Even so, he looked to be no more than twenty years old at most.
He is not the person Wang Jin is looking for...but he is still an indispensable part.
"Brother Song!"
Ergouzi, who had just escaped from the muzzle of the gun, had not had time to catch his breath before he immediately rolled and crawled up to the man.
Obviously, this bald head can bring him a lot of security, and even allow him to ignore the threat posed by the shotgun.
"Shui Sheng, this is..."
The bald man frowned and looked at the scar on Ergouzi's forehead caused by the shotgun barrel.
"He! He hit me!"
Ergouzi pointed at Wang Jin and cried, then trembled when he saw Alice.
Even so, he still glared at Wang Jin fiercely, as if he felt that he finally had a backer.
Hu Xiaobei stood beside Wang Jin with his hands on his hips, staring at Er Gouzi.
Wang Jin didn't care so much, he just looked at the bald head in front of him with interest.
Ergouzi really wanted to come over and kill him just now. If he were an ordinary person with no ability, he might have suffered a loss.
Not shooting to kill someone the moment he sensed hostility was a sign of great restraint.
Wang Jin planned to see how the bald man made his decision.
The latter frowned and glanced around.
After a moment of silence, the bald head kicked Ergouzi over, and then faced the other's surprised gaze and took out a short knife from his back.
Dang.
The dagger fell to the ground, and Ergouzi's face instantly turned pale.
The bald man spoke slowly, his voice as hoarse as a crow's.
"Shui Sheng...you have murderous intentions towards my guest."
"The guests are tolerant, but you have to give them an explanation."
"Brother Song..."
Er Gouzi spoke with disbelief, but only received a cold stare.
He was stunned for a moment, and stretched out his trembling hand with dull eyes, picking up the short knife with dirt on it.
Then he stabbed himself hard on the thigh.
Here comes a matching pair.
Blood gushes out slowly, but Wang Jin can see that he is lucky to have avoided the artery.
"Little flower."
The bald man waved, and a dirty little girl wiping her tears ran out of the next room. While crying, she helped Ergouzi, who was covered in cold sweat, back.
Wang Jin looked at these quietly, with no emotion in his deep eyes.
He knew that his reaction was also noticed by the bald man, but Wang Jin didn't care too much.
Hu Xiaobei didn't react at all. He just raised his eyebrows when he saw the little girl, as if he thought she was cute.
"The second dog's name is Liu Shuisheng. Like Xiaohua, my father picked him up from the river."
"Shui Sheng has been a little irritable since my father disappeared. He doesn't want to see outsiders in the village."
"Let's come in and talk."
Baldhead said as he walked back to the house on crutches, his legs dragging on the ground making a rustling sound.
Without crutches, it seemed difficult for him to even stand.
"Ah good."
Wang Jin nodded, put his hands in his pockets and entered the courtyard with Hu Xiaobei.
Perhaps because they are in the first row, the bald family is obviously more impressive.
The few blue bricks in the village were built on the slightly sloping houses, and strange white cloth strips were tied around the roofs.
The strips of cloth were wet from the rain and hung weakly.
Make the entire roof look like a wreath or a soul streamer.
"This is…"
Hu Xiaobei raised his eyebrows and looked at the things placed in the middle of the yard.
Wang Jin squinted his eyes and continued to look around.
He usually doesn't look at the most eye-catching places, lest he be distracted by other people's deliberate arrangements and lose his life in vain.
After confirming that there was nothing wrong, Wang Jin set his sights on that thing.
There are two coffins.
One is made of fine materials, exquisite workmanship, and even has a slight luster.
The figure is slightly slender than the bald one.
Although the workmanship of the other one is fine, the materials are really poor.
The continuous rainy days have made it slightly moldy, and there are blue spots in the cracks that have been soaked in water.
It looks like some weird plant.
This is the cheapest coffin and is only slightly more dignified than being buried wrapped in a straw mat.
The size is just right for a bald head.
"Don't worry, I prepared it in advance."
"My father and I are the only ones in the family. Shuisheng has never been out much, so we don't know how to buy these things."
The bald man smiled apologetically, opened the door curtain and entered the house.
There was nothing in the house except a simple wooden bed. Wang Jin didn't even see anything like a stove, only some traces.
It used to be a great place to live, but now it's just the opposite.
"My name is Song He, and I am the son of Song Paitou."
The bald man sat on the bed and put the crutch aside.
"The fact that I have survived till now means that you are not hostile, at least not yet."
"But I don't remember asking you two for help, and my father never mentioned it."
"May I ask you two...are you sent by Hongshan?"
The man named Song He smiled, showing his white teeth.
"My name is Wang Jin, and I want to go to Chenjiaweizi."
Wang Jin didn't care. He sat next to Song He and held Hu Xiaobei, who had turned back into a fox, in his arms.
"A disciple? It's really unusual to carry an immortal with you."
Song He wanted to touch the chubby white fox, but was startled by Wang Jin's cold eyes and retracted his hand wisely.
He softly repeated the place names mentioned by Wang Jin and quickly gave the answer.
"Chen Family Waizi...it is true that only my father can go there."
"If you had come a few days earlier, I might have been able to give you a try."
"It's a pity that I'm already dying."
Song He shook his head, his face full of helplessness.
Wang Jin didn't speak, just looked at Song He quietly.
He didn't think the other party was lying, after all, normal people wouldn't prepare a coffin for themselves.
But the bald man in front of him looked very energetic and didn't look like he was about to die.
Song He sighed and began to take off his clothes.
One piece, two pieces, three pieces.
Wang Jin could gradually see the blood stains on the cloth, and the blood stains became more abundant as he went down.
In the end, the clothes Song He took off were almost bloody.
Those linen clothes were soaked with blood, and the blood gradually dried and stuck to the body, forming layers of hard shells.
Song He almost used all his strength to tear those clothes apart, as if tearing off his own skin.
A scalp-numbing tearing sound sounded, and a strong smell of blood spread.
Wang Jin had no reaction.
He watched quietly as Song He pulled off the last piece of clothing, revealing his body riddled with holes.
Chest, arms, back, neck.
You can see bumps the size of coins in these places, and in some places there are blood holes of the same size.
The little fox covered his eyes and burrowed into Wang Jin's arms.
Although the bulge is not too dense, it still makes people feel a little uncomfortable.
"We call this the haunted dragon...it can't be cured."
Song He smiled helplessly and rolled up his trouser legs again.
There was almost no good flesh on the muscular legs, as if someone had been raped, and the skin and flesh had been cut off bit by bit with a fishing net and a knife.
"I can…"
Wang Jin waved his hand, and the fruit knife appeared out of thin air.
He looked at Song He and asked for his opinion.
The pain level of "Haunted Dragon" is similar to that of Ling Chi.
Under such circumstances, I can still happily arrange my own funeral arrangements...
Wang Jin was a little more interested in Song He.
What's more, Song Paitou's son can also sail to Chenjiaweizi, so being able to cure him can be regarded as a backup plan.
"...That's fine, it will make me feel more relaxed."
Song He smiled and did not refuse.
"Can you tell me about the fishing village?"
Wang Jin was worried that Song He would faint from the pain, so he planned to use this method to distract him.
"Um."
Song He nodded, looked at Wang Jin who slowly raised the fruit knife, and closed his eyes.
"Our place used to have a name called Huajiang Village."
“The fish and shrimp here are very delicious, and they are even famous throughout the city.”
"When I was a child, this place was very lively and the houses were almost full."
Phew.
Wang Jin slowly swung the fruit knife and stabbed through the skin to the things under the bulges.
It is a flat fan shape and feels soft like fingernails.
Song He's expression remained normal and he continued talking.
"There are only a few people who have their own bamboo rafts, and the most powerful among these people can live in the first household in each row. They are the leaders."
"My father and Hong Shan were both unfashionable fishermen at that time and could not be considered leaders at all."
puff.
Wang Jin pierced the skin with the fruit knife at an angle, trying to pry open the bulge on Song He's body.
The smelly blood flowed out, and Song He frowned slightly.
"Later...about ten years ago."
"A dragon king made of clay floated across the river. He rushed straight into Da Paitou's home and stopped moving after crossing the courtyard gate."
"The platoons are all masters of miscellaneous studies, and they are good at all kinds of specialties, especially the big platoons."
"He made various arrangements and seemed very confident."
"One day later, Da Paotou suddenly died."
Song He sighed and continued to tell the story of that year in a hoarse voice.
"According to the rules, after the first platoon leader dies, the second platoon leader has to take over."
"Since then, a Mud Dragon King will float down from the upper reaches every rainy season."
"The leaders of the platoon died one after another, and they rose up one after another."
"The villagers really couldn't bear it and tried to leave here."
"It's a pity...every resident who leaves will die when the Mud Dragon King appears the next year."
"Everyone in the platoon is dead, and the villagers can't leave."
"So every year everyone draws lots to find someone to live in the house in the row, and if one dies, they will be safe for a year."
"This year it's our family's turn."
Snap.
The sound of skin tearing sounded, and Wang Jin used a fruit knife to pry open the bulge on Song He's body.
Blood splattered, and Wang Jin grabbed what he had picked out.
After wiping it on his body, Wang Jin frowned and checked.
It was a piece of white cartilage the size of a coin, looking a bit like a shell without patterns.
You can use your nails to leave marks on it, and you can also bend it with force.
"Tell me, does this thing look like scales?"
Song He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and turned to look at Wang Jin.