There's something wrong with this assassin

Chapter 6

Qingming solar term, the beginning of late spring.

The moon is like a bright mirror, and the silver light shines down. In the courtyard of Xiaohun Inn, the willows are green and green, and the shadows are like algae.

Xue Ling looked at the full moon outside the window, calculated the time, and sighed: "Qingming is here."

During the Qingming Festival, there was a lot of rain, and there was no rain tonight, but Xue Ling's heart was extraordinarily chaotic.

She couldn't sleep no matter what, she could only get up, put on her clothes and shoes, and walk out of the door—similar to Fang Bie, her room was also a clean side room, less than a foot in size, and could only accommodate a bed With the addition of tables and chairs, it is difficult to put down other luggage, and it is very difficult to vacate a place for dressing up.

Fortunately, she doesn't need to dress up much now.

Wearing moon-white hemp shoes, he walked to the courtyard under the moonlight, and saw that Fang Bie was still dressed in black, with cloth strips covering his eyes, and holding a wooden sword in the moonlight. The sword is like this in a cycle.

His sword moves are clumsy, and there is no subtlety to be seen. The only thing that can be commended is that he swings the sword really steadily, and every time the sword falls, the position is exactly right.

But is this kind of swordsmanship really useful against the enemy?Xue Ling looked at the boy under the moonlight. This is his bee needle. They are about to cooperate to complete the first task, and this task can be called a novice-level task for practicing hands, whether it is reward or difficulty.

But for this person, Xue Ling felt that he couldn't see through.

Back then, he held himself against the wall for questioning effortlessly, just as naturally as a teacher questioning a student.

But getting along now, Xue Ling really felt that Fang Bie was really weak.

When he usually works as a waiter and handyman in the inn, he delivers the dishes accurately and quickly. The big inn can be cleaned cleanly. He treats every guest with a neither cold nor indifferent attitude. He is really a very capable little waiter. However, Xue Ling's own chef is not very good at the table. Fortunately, Xiaohun Inn is a small store even in Los Angeles, and usually no dignitaries come over to eat, and fool ordinary countrymen. questionable.

He seemed to have a weak backhand, a lackluster forehand, loose footsteps, and a slow reaction—just based on this appearance, how did he restrain himself in one move?

No matter how Xue Ling thought about it, she couldn't figure it out.

"Aren't you asleep yet?" A voice came from behind Xue Ling.

Xue Ling turned her head and saw He Ping was wearing a loose green dress, her hair was askew, holding a white porcelain wine glass behind her and asking her.

The girl shuddered.

"What is this?" She smelled the alcohol in He Ping's cup.

"Fenjiu." He Ping said with a faint smile, "It rains a lot during Qingming, doesn't it?"

Where is the restaurant? Shepherd boy refers to Xinghua Village.

"Pedestrians on the road want to die." Xue Ling replied, "Isn't Sister Ping a local?"

"The whole world is home. I really don't know where I am from." He Ping reached out to hold Xue Ling's hand. Xue Ling felt the cold and hard fingers of the elder sister's head, and then followed her around the main room and went to bed. The stairs, in a blink of an eye, reached the roof of the inn.

There was a square table on the narrow ridge of the roof, with a brown coarse porcelain wine jar on it, and a delicate white porcelain wine glass next to it. Such a combination of roughness and refinement made Xue Ling feel a little dazed.

Under the moonlight, the wine in the glass rippled slightly.

He Ping sat on the side of the square table by herself, facing the moonlight, raised her hand and drank the wine in the glass, her cloud temples were loose, and a snow-white ankle fell out of her long skirt.

It was only then that Xue Ling realized that the nominal owner of the Xiaohun Inn, but actually the Miss Bee Introducer, was so breathtakingly beautiful that she couldn't help but feel ashamed.

"Sit down." He Ping said.

Xue Ling had to sit down.

"Drink." He Ping pushed a glass of wine in front of her.

"I don't know how to drink." Xue Ling said.

Not only does she not know how to drink, but also because she is afraid of making a slip of the tongue after drinking.

"How old are you this year?" He Ping asked.

Xue Ling bit her lip, she should have asked knowingly: "Seventeen."

She still said honestly that the real age is seventeen.

"That's not young." He Ping said: "The year I became an assassin, I just celebrated my 16th birthday."

Xue Ling took a look at the young lady who was shining brightly under the moonlight. She didn't look old at all.

"How old are you now?" Xue Ling asked.

"That kid Fangbie didn't tell you?" He Ping asked back.

Xue Ling shook her head.

"Then he didn't let you call me Mrs. Boss?" He Ping continued to ask.

Xue Ling nodded.

He Ping laughed loudly, and the laughter answered in the night sky. This woman's laughter could not be called heroic or gentle, but it just had a different flavor.

A few birds that had just returned from the south were startled in the night sky.

The boy in the courtyard is still practicing his sword.

"I'm 29 this year." He Ping said.

desolate.

Xue Ling shook her head: "I can't see it at all."

"If you practice martial arts, you will grow old slowly." He Ping said with a smile, "But sometimes, people don't grow old, but their hearts grow old."

"I always feel that my heart is getting softer now."

Saying this, He Ping looked down at the cup in front of Xue Ling.

The wine in the cup is full, and it is the best Xinghuacun Fenjiu. This wine is produced in Shanxi, not a specialty of Los Angeles.

"Drink it." He Ping said.

Xue Ling picked up the cup and drank it all in one gulp. Fenjiu was soft in the mouth and sweet in the aftertaste, but it was an orthodox distilled baijiu, so it was still a hot shot in the stomach.

Xue Ling put down her cup and coughed lightly, a cloud of red appeared on her pretty face.

He Ping reached over the square table and rubbed Xue Ling's hair: "You are a good girl, I like you very much."

"Tomorrow noon, Ning Huaiyuan will pass by Xiaohun Inn. This is the best opportunity to do something. You assist Fang Bie and follow his instructions."

"He is my apprentice, a very reliable person."

"Well, sometimes it's more reliable than I thought."

Xue Ling bit her lip and nodded.

"As an assassin, you will die at any time. I am one of the assassins who have lived the longest." He Ping said: "If you live long enough, you will retire one day, but if you know too much, you will retire even if you retire." No organization."

"Please give me a good life."

Xue Ling didn't know why He Ping told her so much tonight, but she could only nod her head and listen.

After all, the proprietress at this time is really kind.

"Drink a glass of wine, and you can sleep well." He Ping said lightly, "You can go back to sleep."

Xue Ling nodded and got up, the alcohol rippling in her chest made her a little confused.

However, there was no problem walking down the roof, she walked away step by step, and suddenly He Ping called her to stop: "Wait a minute."

Xue Ling turned her head and looked at the assassin under the moon.

"Cooking in the future." He Ping said seriously: "Put less salt."

Xue Ling blushed and muttered, "Why did you tell me now?"

He Ping raised her glass and drank it all, then said with a smile, "Isn't this because you're afraid of your embarrassment?"

……

……

He Ping was still drinking under the moon, Fang Bie was practicing sword under the moon, Xue Ling went back to the room to rest, after a glass of wine, the dreamland was really dark and sweet.

It wasn't until the moon was getting higher and higher and Xue Ling was gradually falling asleep that Fang Bie put away his sword, and there was not a trace of sweat on his forehead.

He walked up to the roof, looked at He Ping under the moon, took out a white porcelain wine glass from his arms, filled it up for himself, and drank it up.

He Ping looked up at the black-clothed and black-haired boy: "There is something wrong with Lin Xue."

Fang Bie nodded, expressionless: "I know."

(End of this chapter)