Daming's Bizarre Story: Painted Skin

Who is this silver-haired, red-robed young man with a handsome face but a cold face, Wen Zhigeng?

Unexpectedly, Wen Zhigeng's black hair had faded into silver threads, and he was not dead yet. He clearly regretted that he didn't make up for him twice last night, and now he is going to die if he doesn't die.

"Go away!" Wen Zhigeng flicked with his hand.

Zhaoran fell out a few steps in a row, but his clenched teeth loosened. He suddenly realized that his appearance was very different from last night. As the saying goes, when a dead tree comes spring, no one recognizes the old man with a new look.

"Yes, yes." He bent down, turned around and walked a few steps, but suddenly heard Zhigeng's cold voice, "Stop!"

Zhao Ran had no choice but to turn his face around and put on the appearance of a common man: "What orders does your lord have?"

Wen Zhigeng's description was a bit haggard, it seemed that last night he was indeed hurt, he glanced up and down with cold eyes like sharp swords, and frowned slightly: "Where did you come from?"

Zhaoran's eyeballs moved slightly, and there was no sign of dog slaves around, he bowed his waist and said: "Little man Hu San, a man from Rongjiazhuang, came to the town to sell firewood and buy something by the way."

Wen Zhigeng walked up to him slowly: "Buy something... what is this?"

Zhao Ran is somewhat fortunate to have delivered Ru Niang's mink coat to the boss of Nanbei Express, and now he is wearing an earthen linen bag, but there is still Ru Niang's human skin in it, and his back is sweating immediately when he thinks about it Lai: "Returning to the adults, the villain bought the Zhou Zhou gift for his son."

"Catch Zhou Li, a mahogany sword?" Wen Zhigeng said.

Zhao Ran bit the bullet with a flattering look on his face: "The villain's family can't afford a real sword, but he also hopes that the child can become a human being like an adult, so it can be regarded as a villain's ancestor."

But in his heart he gritted his teeth and thought that if my son turned into a dog like you, then my grave must have been soaked in dog urine, and he didn't think about his own grave. not going anywhere.

As expected, Wen Zhigeng had a look of disgust on his face after hearing this: "You dog, you know how to daydream."

"Yes, yes." Zhao Ran bent down and replied, he replied in his heart, "The dog scolds people!"

Wen Zhigeng suddenly raised his hand to lift Zhaoran's chin, his fingers were cold, and when they touched Ling Zhaoran's skin, a layer of fine bumps appeared.

"Big, my lord, this villain's skin color is average."

Wen Zhigeng scolded: "Shut up, let me say something, and you read it after me."

Zhaoran blinked his old eyes twice and said with a sad face: "What do you want me to say?"

Wen Zhigeng already parted his red lips lightly: "You are an unfilial son, how dare you beat your father..."

Zhao Ran was so frightened that his teeth chattered up and down that almost all of them flew out. He said in a trembling voice: "My lord, my little man, there is an 80-year-old mother in this little man's house, and his children and grandchildren are young..."

"Say it!"

Zhao Ran had no choice but to say as if mourning his concubine: "You, you, you are an unfilial son, dare, dare to beat your father..."

"I'm sorry for your ancestors, how did your parents give birth to such a beast like you?"

Zhaoran's jaw was about to be crushed by Wen Zhigeng, he endured the pain and followed, "I'm such an ancestor, why did your parents give birth to such a beast like you?"

How happy he was when he said these few words at the time, but now he stutters, like a bereaved dog, and his appearance is naturally very different. One thousand, and I will never let go of one, even if I have doubts, I am afraid that I will not be able to leave today.

He was thinking hard about the way to escape, but suddenly he heard a bell sound in the wind, the tone was faint, but it seemed to knock on the heart of the person every time, it lifted people's spirits, it seemed to be enlightened, like a dust in a spiritual realm , It is an instant wisdom flower.

"Buddha!" ​​Wen Zhigeng whispered, suddenly abandoned Zhaoran, and left.

Zhaoran got up from the ground, coughed twice and ran out of the alley. When he ran out of the alley, he saw a group of Buddhist disciples in white cassocks passing by. They had long black hair, snow hats on their heads, and long clothes Flying in the wind, but falling silently, giving people a sense of dusty socks and ethereal.

"It turns out that the disciples of the Buddha are a group of young monks who have not yet been ordained." Zhao Ran looked at the backs of the group of people and thought to himself.

The person at the front of the queue was holding a golden Buddhist staff. The top of the staff was a pagoda, and there was a circle of small golden bells floating around. Every time he took a step, those bells would fly up, drawing a golden arc.

The entire long street was silent, and there was no whispering when Princess Fuma passed by just now. Everywhere she went, she knelt down and waited for the Buddhist disciples to pass with a pious look on her face.

"This fake monk has some skills." Zhao Ran murmured, thinking that it was just far worse than their cultivators' demeanor of immortals who only subdue demons and subdue demons, but hide their achievements in fame.

"Hmph, Taoism is not conspiring with monks!" Zhaoran thought that Wen Zhigeng was still nearby, so he turned around and rushed out of the city to Sandun Village.

When he got out of the city, he looked around, but he didn't see Hu San. He couldn't help but think that the mountain people are simple, and they don't want to take any reward for leading the way. I didn't care about selling it, and ran for another twenty or thirty miles to return home.

----

Clearly knowing that the dog slave has a good nose, he can smell the smell at least a mile away, so he didn't dare to go straight to Santunzhuang, went around in a big circle, and sprayed some soil bought at the grass market outside the city. liquor.

The local wine made by the mountain people is made of wild fruits in the mountains, and the smell is fragrant but not pungent.

After pouring the wine, Zhao Ran shook the remaining half jar of local wine in his hand, picked it up and took a sip, a rush of enthusiasm rushed to Baihui, and he felt that his ears and eyes were instantly clearer, far better than the Buddhist music he just heard.

He splashed around in the mountains for a while, and he didn't catch half a chicken or rabbit in the cold winter, but wine without meat is not good, so even though he didn't like fish, he had to rush to the nearby mountain pool.

From a distance, he could see the mountain lake at the bottom of the valley, wild rice and cattail grass by the water, growing along the water, dying along the water, and being illuminated by the setting sun, they turned from dark blue to light brown, criss-crossing the fields, and altars grew in the snow. There are five kinds and ten colors.

Zhao Ran felt relaxed and happy watching, he jumped down from the mountain path with his wine in his hand, and shouted: "I have a jug of wine, which is enough to soothe the wind and dust, to see the beauty of the mountains while drunk, and to laugh at people all over the world."

As soon as he finished yelling, he suddenly realized that he was not alone by the lake, and there was a person sitting by the rock, who was bending down to pick up the plain shoes on the ground, and then turned his head, Zhao Ran suddenly felt that he was wrong, he Even if you see all the colors in the mountains, you can't laugh at the people in the world, because there are people in this world who seem to stand there, and they can make the mountains and rivers lose their color.

Zhao Ran felt that he couldn't be described as good looking, and it wasn't that he was stunning, but that he couldn't pick out a single fault. Thinking about it carefully, there was no word to describe him, which made him suddenly stunned.