Water flowing clouds

many years ago.At that time, Kunlun was not a god of witchcraft that people respected and feared, and He Jingzhen was just a little pink meat.A massacre just killed thousands of men, women and children who had fled the war.Thousands of people did not expect to escape from the Central Plains to the Southwest, thousands of miles of roads and narrow escapes, and finally ended up in such a quiet and peaceful morning.Most of the people are still in their sleep, and the way of death is not very ugly. A few people are awakened by the sound of the blade cutting into the flesh and blood, and run away in a hurry. The death is not so beautiful. Only if you are willing to stab at the vital points, you will die without a whole body.

He Jingzhen was lucky, the gangsters had been raging for a day, they were tired of killing and looting, and they had done enough crimes, so they planned to save some energy and keep this baby who was still in its infancy, and let him die slowly.

The wind swayed slightly, the weeds were scattered, and the only one among the thousands of innocent people was soaked in blood for a whole day, including the human body and swaddling clothes.More than 20 mouthfuls of blood from He's family pooled in one place, soaked through, and the blood spread out the swaddling clothes, forming a layer of hard scabs on his body.The scabs formed here and there made this little meat look not very refreshing.The He family was so dead that there was no one left, He Jingzhen's father hung on for a day like a gossamer, and endured not dying, just for Tuogu.In one day, three groups of people came to this road, but no one was willing to accept his trust.The world is in chaos.There have just been a few big battles, and people die every day. There are so many corpses, and the grass and trees beside the road are full of fishy smell.The little piece of meat was sheltered between his father's arms and body, and was also affected by the smoke and dust from the trampling horseshoes, and the sun with nowhere to hide, it didn't cry or make noise, it just sucked its hands silently, as if it knew the thinness It won't be long before the asylum is gone.

When Kunlun came, the sun had already slanted to the west, and the remaining light shone on the land.He walked all the way, and when he saw people who were dead but still refused to close their eyes, he always went up to tidy up, closed their eyes and straightened their clothes.In Miao Min's view of life and death, death is nothing more than a solemn matter, not sloppy, neat, meticulous, or at least peaceful.When it was He Jingzhen's father's turn, a pair of eyeballs trembled under Kunlun's hands, and Kunlun moved his hand away to see the pair of eyeballs struggling to move down until they reached the bloody mass.Then, the last look is for Kunlun.It was only at the last glance that the trustee could be seen for real - this is a "human" who is half human and not a ghost.She has silver hair, blue pupils, and a face that is exposed is unnaturally white, but her lips are blood red, which is very different from the people of all colors that the Central Plains people have been used to for generations.

In fact, Kunlun is a wonderful character if prejudice can be put aside.His hair is as radiant as flowing silver, and it tastes good when it's untied or bundled up. It's too tasteful, and it's dull when paired with black pupils. Only blue pupils can hold back the ground. Let it pass quietly with a glance, and make a decisive decision with a single word. Jiuding has everything.He Jingzhen's father gained peace of mind from Kunlun's eyes, and he made a quick decision.The last look of the dying man hit Kunlun's heart straight - are all parents like this in the world?When I was alive, I put all my heart into it, and when I was dying, even if I had no choice, I tried my best to beg for a little sympathy, so as to find the last possibility for my child.As for whether it is entrusted to an inhumane person, I can't control it if I can't see it.

Kunlun has no father or mother, so he doesn't know where he came from.Partly sympathizing with each other, partly because death is like life, He Jingzhen just got into Kunlun's back basket, staggered, and headed southwest all the way.

After walking for half a month, the more I walked, the more desolate I was.The hustle and bustle is far away, and the disasters of war, famine, famine, big treachery, big evil, big right and wrong, and great joy and sorrow are all far away.Further on is the Tuojiang River, after crossing the river and walking for three days, you will reach the border of the Miao people.That was his home, and it was there as long as he could remember. He ate a hundred meals and wore a hundred clothes until he was 17 years old. He worked hard in the village for a month and built a stilted building for him.If he lives in it, he will be considered an adult, and he can marry a man and a woman and spread his branches.

The day Kunlun arrived coincided with the "Great Market", and all the people in the village rushed to the market, and no one gathered around to look at the "rare" in his back basket.It will take two days for people to find out that Kunlun has raised a bunch of small meat.This little piece of meat was very well-behaved, passing him back and forth with both hands could not make the slightest cry.The appearance is still handsome - a pair of eyebrows can faintly be seen flying into the sideburns in the future, the double eyelids are wide and generous, the bridge of the nose is high, and the small mouth is square.No wonder his father couldn't bear it when he was dying.The women in the village who had children felt their hearts softened by the little meat, so after an arrangement, the three of them lined up to feed each other in shifts a day.A village woman in the mountains, who works hard, has a strong body and plenty of milk. After feeding for more than a month, the sallowness on the face of this little meat has gone down, and a layer of fat has formed on her body.This layer of fat did not fall off until he was seven years old.Because of this layer of fat, Kunlun gave him a nickname, "Rourou".

It has been more than a year since Rourou came to the village, and he still can't speak, only loves to laugh.When he smiled, he showed two small dimples, which seemed very sincere.It is often difficult to sustain gossip and gossip in front of this clean smiling face.Who can afford that kind of heart?What about the Han people?Isn't it also a milk doll?What does the feud between Miao Jiang and Han Tu have to do with a child who has no father or mother!

So whoever made rice cereal also put it in an earthen jar, and sent a jar; whoever raised chickens laid eggs, saved ten or eight, and brought a small basket.After entering the stilted building in Kunlun, he was not idle either. He swung his fleshy little arms with both hands, lifted them up and caught them again, just to see the two dimples on his face.The smile is really good: the voice is the most pleasing, showing a mouthful of small glutinous teeth, and the corners of the mouth and eyes are curved.After a trip, all worries are gone.From this point of view, Kunlun's lack of leisure during the day and lack of sleep at night is worthwhile.

The fleshy ones let everyone hug, and they are not particularly clingy to Kunlun on weekdays.But as long as Kunlun is around, his smile will "turn the corner".When Kunlun walked to the stove, his eyes followed the stove; when Kunlun walked to the window, his eyes followed the window, and his smile followed; At the top of the stairs, Kunlun climbed up from the top of the stairs bit by bit, the light in his eyes also grew bigger, and his smile also became brighter.In the end, everyone could see it clearly—this little piece of meat was not confused, he knew how far and near he was, and he knew what was good and what was bad.

It's a pity that I can't speak.

It wasn't until the end of two years that Kunlun heard Rourou yelling: Hang Hang.

Those few days were scorchingly hot, my fleshy body was hot and prickly, and it was so itchy that I couldn't sleep.Kunlun managed to put him to sleep, and took advantage of the time to go to the back mountain to gather a bunch of herbs, planning to boil the juice to wash his body the next day.As soon as I got back to the Diaojiao building, I saw Rourou waiting by the door, calling: Hang Hang.Kunlun was stunned, and it took him a long time to realize that "Kengkeng" should actually be "Kunkun".After picking it up, I realized that the meat was burning hot, my face was bright red, and I was already groggy.Kunlun picked up his back and left. First, he found a witch doctor in the village, boiled the medicine and poured it down. The two big bowls were like water pouring stones, but it didn't help.I rushed to the town in a hurry. In the middle of the night, the mountains and fog poured into the sky, the road was rough, and there was a bottomless ravine under my feet.You can't slow down, this disease is dangerous, and if you slow down, it will be too late.Kunlun protected the meat in the back basket with one hand, climbed mountains and waded with the other hand, and ran for more than 30 miles in one go.When I came to the town, I patted on the doors of three medical clinics, and they all said that it was "fasha", which could not be cured.The last one was photographed, and the person who opened the door was a young man. He carefully explored the path, and wrote out a prescription with a solemn face. He took it to the backyard and fried it. After blowing cold water, he took out two quilts and spread them in the medicine hall. On the ground, he said: "Wrap the child in it, and you will be saved if you sweat within half an hour." After speaking, he hurriedly boiled a cup of medicine.After coming in, I saw Kunlun stripping off his upper body, wrapping the ball of meat into his arms, and wrapping himself in two layers of quilts, with his silver hair hanging down the outside of the quilt, as if he was trying his best to increase his body size. A little heat, but also like a certain degree of life and death.Two burning little faces were reflected in the blue pupils, doubly burning people.

At this time, the roosters began to crow, far and near, high and low—the sky was about to dawn.

An hour has passed, and there is not a drop of sweat.The younger generation came over to persuade: "I'm afraid I can't be saved, so take it back while you're still alive."

Kunlun didn't know if he heard it.Just sitting upright, sitting in the same posture for an hour, and another hour, intending to sit like this until eternity.If you can't save this little piece of meat in your arms.

After standing for a while, Housheng handed over the second bowl of medicine: "Forget it! It's up to this time whether it works or not...Children as young as tiger and wolf medicine generally dare not use it. It's just a dead horse as a living horse medicine..."

Kunlun took the bowl, and fed the medicine to Rourou mouthful like feeding a chick, but Rourou couldn't swallow anymore, and every mouthful leaked. in the quilt.

"...Kengkeng...home..." Rourou called Kunlun for the second time, with his eyes half-opened, tears scattered from the eyes that couldn't move, and the three souls and seven souls slowly disappeared from inside.

Kunlun leaned down, gently lifted him up, put him back in the basket gently, adjusted his clothes and walked home.Before leaving, he went to the medicine hall cabinet and put a piece of silver on it, and took away a piece of red paper for wrapping medicine.

For more than 30 miles of mountain roads, Kunlun went all the way back.He would stop and kowtow when he encountered a place with big rocks, old trees or wells.Take a little dew from rocks and trees, or well water from wells, and lightly dab it on the fleshy forehead.No swearing, swearing, or wishing all over the sky, just kowtowed hard.Knock until the skin is broken, knock until the blood is visible, knock until the flesh is exposed, and it is destined to leave scars in the future.When he arrived in front of the giant tree of unknown age in Zhaikou, Kunlun threw out the rest of his strength-biting his middle finger to bleed, dripping to the root of the tree, took out the red paper from his arms, and half tore out a pair of small shoe nails and threw it on the tree root. On the body, the other half was used to write the horoscope of the fleshy birthday, and they were nailed together.The Miao people have a custom: When they die of illness, they entrust their life and death to boulders, ancient trees, and wells—write the birth date on a piece of red paper, cut out a pair of small red shoes, and place them on the rocks, trees, and wells for good The only thing is that they are adopted as children by stone spirits, tree monsters, well gods, and they have to offer wine and meat to show their filial piety during festivals.

When life and death have no medicine or stone, they become open-minded.

Kunlun has been living in Miaojiang for so many years, and he has been familiar with common customs to the bone marrow in basic necessities of life, food, housing, transportation, life, old age, sickness and death, but there is always a part of him that he is not familiar with.That part came from his blood family, the blood flowed, and the darkness, tyranny, bravery and courage were hidden in it.On weekdays, if you don’t show the mountains and don’t show the water, if you get anxious, Kunlun’s broad-mindedness is not broad-minded, but the tyranny and bravery after being desperate.Entrustment is not entrustment, it is a ruthless bet.Bet that half of his lifespan will be given to Rourou, to stone elves, tree monsters, well gods, or something else, and whoever can give him a way out will give it to him.When I gambled on the giant tree in Zhaikou, I gambled too much.A life is a life bet.

All his life in Kunlun, he gambled fiercely, never gambled with others, only gambled with fate, life and death, and contacts.