He got up at five o'clock in the morning, opened the windows, let the cool breeze flow into the house, then washed his face, rinsed his mouth, sat on the floor, meditated, breathed, and practiced his sword.
He is a swordsman and a killer.
After burning the incense, he opened his eyes, walked out of the room with a bamboo pole, and did not forget to close the window before leaving the room.
He put the bamboo pole next to the stove and started to light the fire. He wore ordinary clothes, had an ordinary face, and did ordinary things. He was so ordinary that he would be thrown into the crowd. His biggest feature is that he has no special features.
There is a contradiction in the job of a killer. On the one hand, you cannot be too famous, and on the other hand, you cannot be unknown.
If you are famous, you will be found wherever you go. If you are not famous, no one will kill you.
But no matter from which aspect, he is successful. Among the crowd, he is like a drop of water in the ocean, but within the industry, he has quite a reputation.
Many people know a saying: Find that person, give him a sum of money, and he will help you kill a person.
Anyone.
He never failed.
It’s not about how good his swordsmanship is or how powerful his kung fu is, he just can endure and wait. He once spent three years assassinating a target, getting close to the target, becoming friends with the target, being nice to him, drinking with him, and giving him
Buy delicious food. When he is the most helpless and lonely, he will talk to you and say it sincerely: I used to think I had many friends, but now I know that you are my only friend.
Then you draw your sword and stab his heart gently, quickly and accurately, so as not to let your friend bleed too much or suffer too much pain.
His appearance made those young people who were new to the industry understand that killing someone is not just about taking a knife, fighting with the other person, and shouting: Tomorrow is the anniversary of your death.
Such behavior seems very dishonorable, and his lines also make him look more like a villain.
It has to be said that he single-handedly changed the status quo of the industry, allowing those rude, violent, and quality-less killers to start learning intelligence collection, target planning, and risk analysis, from chaos, bigness, and roughness to finesse.
Dense, thin.
He can be called a leader in industry reform.
He is a very self-disciplined person. It is said that when he was young, he got up at five o'clock every morning and finished all the work of the day before midnight. He said: "Success comes from self-confidence, and self-confidence comes from self-discipline." When you
When you have strong control over your work efficiency, self-confidence will naturally follow. Control your emotions and focus on improving work efficiency. You will have more time to control freely, and then use it
Use it to cultivate your own hobbies, improve your skills, enter the cycle of positive energy, constantly hone yourself, and become a better killer.
What a true industry benchmark.
The yellow sand blew by, and an ancient road was paved on the land covered with yellow sand. This official road was built by the founding emperor of the empire, who spent hundreds of thousands of civilians. When the official road was built, the founding emperor said proudly: The Rong people will never dare to live again.
Yes, our soldiers can march directly into the Rong clan's lair.
It's just that times have changed, and many things have changed. Now, the Rong tribe can directly enter the empire's lair.
There is a tea stall next to the ancient road, selling herbal tea, tea eggs, and braised pork, allowing passers-by to rest.
He fiddled with the tea eggs in the pot, watched the light smoke wrapped in the aroma of tea float up, and then played with it carefully.
He is waiting.
The person he is waiting for has not come yet.
He is not in a hurry. He knows that the person he is waiting for will arrive sooner or later. He once spent three years being friends with a person and then killed him. Today, he does not mind spending an hour cooking a pot of tea eggs and spending a day waiting.
A person waits until the person he wants to wait for arrives, then serves tea respectfully, and when the person is most relaxed, he pulls out the thin sword hidden in the bamboo pole and pierces the other person's heart.
Under his ordinary clothes, there is a body as precise as a machine. Every muscle is under strict control, so that he can shoot an extremely fast sword.
Then, he would watch the other party's body, eat a cup of tea eggs, and then leave. Tomorrow he would appear in another place, with another identity, a fortune teller, a restaurant owner, an old man guarding the door, wearing ordinary clothes, doing
Some ordinary things.
…
dong dong dong
The sound of rapid hoofbeats reached my ears, and a fast horse galloped on the official road, with a sword on its waist and a big ax behind it. It was dusty and dusty.
With a loud hiss, the horsemen reined in their horses and stopped, looking at the tea stalls on the roadside.
He was stirring the tea eggs in the pot, and a wrinkled face appeared in the white smoke.
"What do you want to eat, sir? Our specialty is tea eggs, which are very fragrant."
He got off his horse, threw the water bag in his hand, and sat down at a small table.
"Fill it with water, get a cup of tea eggs, and fill it with thirty more to take away."
He was busy, filling the water bag with herbal tea, bringing tea eggs over with a bamboo pole under his ribs.
"Sir, you are on your way."
"Well, I'm on my way."
"Why are you in such a hurry..." He came closer, hung the water bag on the left hand holding the tea eggs, and held the bamboo pole with the other hand.
Cheng Dalei drew his sword and returned it, the blood on the sword spilled as it cut through the air.
"Because I'm in a hurry, I don't have time to talk too much nonsense." Cheng Dalei caught the bowl that fell from his hand: "Sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" A line of blood emerged from his throat.
"You shouldn't occupy your hand with things." Cheng Dalei.
"You knew it earlier, how could you... know..."
His body collapsed to the ground, and the yellow sand on the ground was dyed red with blood.
"Because I'm cheating."
Cheng Dalei glanced at him, pricked the tea eggs and water with a silver needle, drank a sip of herbal tea, and cracked open a tea egg.
"It smells really good."
Yellow sand, ancient roads, tea stalls, a man guarding a corpse and eating a cup of tea eggs.
There are gradually more and more people around, including strong men carrying spears, merchants leading camels, hunters holding hunting forks, and elegant scholars with folding fans.
The four of them did not take action. The strong man with the spear took off his gun, the merchant played with the abacus in his hand, the hunter stared at the hunting fork, and the scholar opened and closed the folding fan. It seemed that he wanted to use this situation to compose a poem, but he could not think of a suitable one.
Beginning.
"How long is it from Xizhao Pass?" Cheng Dalei suddenly said something.
"There are still two hundred miles." The strong man replied.
"It will take a day and a night to walk there," the hunter said.
"If your horse is fast enough, maybe you can arrive in one day." The merchant looked at the white camel next to him and seemed to be showing off.
"The road is not easy to walk, so walk there at least tomorrow evening," the scholar said.
"Thank you." Cheng Dalei stood up, looked at the four people around him, and said, "The last question is, I am going to die soon. Do you want to leave any last words?"