Hunting College

"Life and magic have a common feature, that is magic."

"Every life is a magical incarnation, and every magic is also a magical result."

Mr. Wu was sitting by the iron stove, swaying an old pu fan in his hand. While fanning the fire, he muttered the old man’s gossip to the small red clay teapot. He also held up the tea cup from time to time and sipped two sips of tea, which seemed very pleasant:

"...And we wizards are miraculous witnesses."

Having said that, he seemed to notice something and suddenly turned his head to look at a corner of the bookstore. The bookshelves there are full of books, but Mr. Wu’s eyes did not fall on those books, but as if looking at the world through those books, through the thick walls, and through the long void. A corner of

After a long while, he added in an admiring tone: "...We are also witnesses to history."

After that, he shook the broken pu fan in his hand again, and the milky-white flame that had been restrained a little bit boiled again, stretched out the slender tongue of fire, and licked the maroon-red pot wall.

"Crack."

A small voice suddenly sounded in the corner of the bookstore, but it stopped abruptly. If you didn't pay attention, you might think that the abnormal noise was an illusion.

But Mr. Wu has always been aware of the details.

"I thought you won't be back today, so I gave the dried fish to Boss Huang on Huiji. The little granddaughter of his family has a new Persian cat with a big mouth." The gentleman shook his head without looking back. While holding the broken fan, he said kindly: "If you want to eat, you can go fishing in the sea of ​​stars."

No one replied, only a faint ‘squeak’ from the depths of the bookstore, as if a cabinet door was opened.

After a while, the furious voice of the yellow raccoon came over:

"This matter has nothing to do with me. Why do you want to detain my dried fish? Doesn't your conscience hurt?! Those dried fish belong to me! I exist here, how can you do it casually? Take it to give it away?"

"It's sending the cat," the husband corrected: "Moreover, those dried fish were brought back by you when I was out hunting... After opening a shop for so long, my biggest experience is that the accounts must be clear."

The yellow raccoon jumped out of the shadow in the corner of the bookstore angrily, jumped to the desk next to her husband, stared, arched, groaned in his throat, and the cat's claws were rubbing against the table, but he wanted to pounce on it. She didn't dare to flutter.

The husband squinted his eyes and took a look at it:

"Add another barrier to that young sapling. The store is very angry, so don't let her get dehydrated."

Hey, the yellow flower raccoon immediately put away the fight, and looked sideways at the transparent ball floating beside his shoulder. I don't know if it is an illusion, it also feels that the small tree sapling in the ball is a little bit wilted than before.

"Illusion, this must be an illusion." The yellow lily muttered with some guilty conscience, opened his mouth, and spit out a bubble with a pop. The bubble rose in response to the wind, and it rose from the size of a soybean to the size of a basketball, and covered the ball next to the shoulder.

Then the ‘bubble’ was closed and tightened to the size of a volleyball, adding a ‘film’ to that transparent ball.

The figure of the young sapling in the sphere became more and more blurred.

Mr. Wu changed the pu fan from his right hand to his left hand, so he asked in time: "Didn't you go looking for the bad luck of those two mice? Why did you come back so soon?"

Speaking of the two mice, the violent temper of the yellow cauliflower exploded again.

"I told you at the beginning that those mice cannot be kept... you are better, and you will keep more and more of them! How are you now? After messing with you, you can't find them!"

With a cursing grin, the tabby cat picked up Mr. Wu’s teacup, licked it and drank two sips of tea. While complaining about Mr.’s wrong decision in the past, he condemned the cunning and sneaky of the two mice, feeling the difficulty of the cat’s life:

"It can only be said that they are worthy of being mice, and they hide more slippery than real mice... I have not caught mice for many years, and it is inevitable that there are some handcrafts, but it does not matter. Give me some time. I will put those two mice in their nests. I'll look through it all for you!"

Mr. Wu curled his mouth, glanced at the teacup used by the yellow lily, flipped his hand, and found a new cup for himself.

The small red clay teapot on the iron stove spit out two bursts of heat, re-attracting the attention of the bookstore owner and the flower cat.

"How long has it been cooked?" The yellow lily craned his neck and asked curiously.

"A few hours, it's almost time." The husband was vague, and did not give a precise number. He lifted the lid of the teapot, poked his neck and looked inside, then nodded: "It's almost there."

The yellow raccoon sighed with an old sigh: "At the beginning, I said that you can teach him it properly. Why do you have to send him to school? There is now a smog and a mixture of dragons and snakes on Phuket Island, even a great fortune teller. I don’t know what will happen in the future..."

"I am better than a great fortune-teller." Mr. Wu reminded him in a low voice.

The yellow raccoon seemed to be stuck in a fish, and his voice stopped abruptly. The cat's face was suffocated for a long time before he emphasized: "...Even if you are better than the great fortune teller, you are not much stronger... This kid has been punished twice in three days, and now it has been less than a year, he has fallen to pieces and returned to the oven to re-cook?"

"That's true." Mr. Wu nodded and raised his head as if thinking of something. After hesitating for a while, he picked up the lid again, then stretched out the index finger of his left hand, swiped his thumb nail on the belly of the index finger, and a drop of red blood It oozes out and slowly drips into the small red clay teapot.

The milky white blood at the bottom of the pot seemed to be stimulated~www.readwn.com~ The flame suddenly squeezed a little, and there was a faint thunderous sound from the teapot, rumbling, and the shaking lid buzzed. ring.

Then the husband retracted his fingers, caged his hands, and sat back comfortably: "...Next time, he should not explode so easily."

The head of the yellow raccoon shrank back, "ho ho" in her throat, as if holding a mouthful of thick sputum.

After a long while, it screamed: "It's not too much, you gave him a drop of blood? I have worked so hard for so many years, but saved a few dried fish, you still deprive you...your conscience. Doesn't it hurt?!"

This is the second time it mentions the topic of ‘conscience’.

The husband felt that he had to answer this question directly.

"I think it doesn't matter if it's you or me," as he said, he pointed his finger at himself and emphasized: "In this state, talking about'heart' is really a very extravagant topic. Moreover, even if the state is intact At that time, everything needs to be weighed against the pros and cons, but you cannot ask your conscience."

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