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Chapter 208 We are the same kind

It's dilapidated, deserted, and dead.

It's as if the moonlight from the outside world can't shine in, and the falling snow can't drift in.

All I could see was black frozen soil, with yellow and fallen leaves all over the ground, swept by the cold wind that came from nowhere, making the ground desolate.

But there are people living in this alley.

The temporary houses made of thatched grass were exposed to the wind and cold, and the small bonfire seemed to be the only light in this small world.

Balian stopped and looked quietly at the old man beside the bonfire, who was feeding his granddaughter water with trembling hands. His eyes were filled with sadness and vicissitudes of life, and he said: "Baby, grandpa is sorry for you."

It is hard to imagine that there is such a small and dangerous place in Xianling City.

A dark wind rises in the alleys of heaven and earth, and the night fog lingers in the valleys.

A cold wind is blowing, and the sound of the wind is sometimes distant and sometimes closer.

Faintly, from the west in ancient times, the faint and indistinguishable sound of a child crying could be heard.

The long, deep and ruined road and the withered old alley seem to have become a forgotten and dark corner of the immortal city that never sleeps.

The bright lights of prosperity are enough to illuminate the long night. The stars are vast, but there is no bright light to give to this small world of dark alleys.

There was a faint glow from the stove, shining on the old gentleman's face, but it made his facial features even more hazy and unclear, making him less clear.

The granddaughter of the old storyteller saw blood tonight, and she seemed to be frightened and unconscious. Before she could recover, the old man gave her some water, but she didn't take a sip of it, and it all spilled from her lips.

The little girl pursed her blue lips tightly and made a strange muffled sound.

Bai Lian stood with an umbrella and said softly: "Old sir."

The storyteller, who was feeding his grandson water and wiping the wet spots on his lips, was slightly startled, as if he was startled by the sudden call.

But he quickly calmed down and put down the old porcelain bowl with a small mouth missing in his hand.

He straightened his sleeves and looked at the young man under the dim light: "Young Master, it's late at night. All kinds of evil things happened tonight. It's not safe to wander outside."

The night wind swayed the firelight, pulling the shadows between the sloping walls on the ground into the gloomy darkness.

Balian lowered his head and looked at the swaying shadow under his feet. He took out a piece of Allegro from his sleeve and said, "The old gentleman was in a hurry and forgot this."

The storyteller touched his granddaughter's hair, showed a smile on his face, and immediately stood up to greet him, with a grateful look on his face: "Thank you, young master, for sending this specially."

He reached out to take it, but the hand that Balian handed out suddenly dropped down, and the palm holding the Allegro was covered by his big sleeves and could no longer be seen.

The storyteller looked stunned.

Balian nodded slightly to him and said, "But I suddenly remembered that this belongs to that little girl."

With that said, he bypassed the storyteller and walked straight into the simple doorless tiled house.

He knelt down and looked intently at the lost little girl by the fire.

He glanced at the grass-strewn ground with his peripheral vision, but did not return the Allegro. He smiled softly at her and said warmly: "Don't be afraid."

In the darkness of the night, his pair of pitch-black eyes, which were larger than ordinary people, should have been eerie and creepy.

But his smile, gentle words and drizzle, like the light, wind and moonlight, dispelled the invisible cold and weird feeling around him.

The little girl nestled in the corner stopped trembling, her tightly pursed lips relaxed slightly, but she immediately gritted her teeth again.

The palms in Bailian's sleeves moved lightly.

The little girl's face suddenly became extremely panicked, as if she was facing a nightmare, and her face was covered with sweat.

However, when Balian opened his palm, it turned out to be a piece of butter sugar that looked like a fat white rabbit. It was very cute and interesting.

A wisp of sweet sugar fragrance floated in the night wind.

The little girl was obviously stunned, but her expression was no longer confused and frightened. Her eyes fell on the white butternut sugar in his palm, and she swallowed unconsciously.

A child like her who comes from a poor family cannot afford to eat such high-quality butter sugar.

She timidly stretched out a hand, her fingers were covered with chilblains and blood blisters from years of playing Allegro and Erhu, which looked sad.

As soon as he stretched out his hand, he realized something again. He took his hand back and wiped it carefully on the corner of his clothes.

Wiping her fingers as clean as possible, she picked up the White Rabbit butter candy as if it were a treasure.

A happy smile appeared on her small face.

She looked at the lovely butter candy over and over again, but was reluctant to taste it.

I don’t know if it’s because I can’t bear to eat it, or for some other reason.

The moon was high in the sky, but barely a ray of the desolate moonlight penetrated this deserted alley.

Baili looked at the little girl quietly for a long time, and suddenly said: "Old sir, your granddaughter can't speak?"

Whether it was in the inn or here, he seemed to have never heard a word from this little girl.

Except for the screams and screams.

He never heard her say a word.

The old man's sighing voice came from behind: "Oh, my little granddaughter was born with mute disease. They say that Xianling City is a magical city where immortals live. Anyone who is sick, seriously injured or dying, if they can have the chance to enter the city, If you live and cultivate yourself in the city, you will be blessed by the immortals, and you will live a long and healthy life without fear of suffering or illness."

Bailian said: "But it seems that the old gentleman was disappointed."

The storyteller laughed and said: "It's so disappointing that we can't even call it a disappointment. At least since we entered the city, we, my grandfather and my grandson, have never suffered from a fatal disease even if we stayed overnight and were hungry."

At this moment, the hot water was boiling on the stove, and the sound of gurgling boiling water sounded in the quiet night.

"Really?" Balian lowered his eyes and rubbed the Allegro with his fingers in his sleeves. There were barbs on the rough surface of the board, which pricked his hands a bit.

He said: "I don't know what kind of mute disease in the world can prevent people from opening their mouths to eat."

The old man said: "I'm used to living in poverty, and I can't bear to eat good food."

Balian said: "There are many spectators in the audience today, and there are also many rewards."

The old man had no voice this time.

Balian continued: "But the old gentleman didn't take any money. Even though there was a murder, he didn't take any money. Are you too panicked, or do you not need the money at all?"

There were footsteps coming from behind, and the storyteller's shadow slowly approached towards Balian's back.

His tone remained the same as before: "Young master, this is your first time entering Xianling City, right? A murder like tonight is actually not uncommon for the border city of Xianling.

But even if it is not uncommon, it does not mean that people's fears will relax as they get used to it, but it will deepen the fear in their hearts. I was very scared just now because life is more important than money."

Balian didn't pay attention to the approach of the man behind him. He picked up a piece of grass from the ground, cut his fingernails, smeared the blood on the grass and lit it with the stove.

Slowly burning vegetation was placed in front of the little girl, and wisps of smoke mixed with the faint scent of blood lingered on the tip of the girl's nose.

The wisp of smoke was inhaled by the girl, and her panicked brows became calmer, but her throat squirmed uneasily, and then her expression changed.

"Wow!!!" With a cry, he spat out a pair of eyeballs mixed with smelly juice and blood, and gurgled to the ground.

In the bloody water, you can still see a few corpse insects burrowing in the arch.

After finally opening her mouth, the little girl's face was distorted and she kept coughing, but she could only make weird sounds.

Balian saw that the tongue in her mouth had already been uprooted.

No wonder I can't speak.

A cool breath blew on the back of his neck, and the storyteller who was very close to him chuckled, seemingly surprised: "Why can your blood raise ghosts? It seems that we are the same kind." Everyone who likes Long Night Walk invites everyone.

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