I see the snow

It was late at night, and the rain was like a waterfall.

"You want to be this?"

In the small pawn shop in the city, the shopkeeper squinted his eyes, approached the small burning oil lamp, and looked at it with the dim and flickering light.

"Forgive me for being blind."

The shopkeeper rubbed the paper between his fingers, raised his head after a while, and said, "I don't see the value of your things, my lord."

It was a thin booklet, about half the thickness of the "Heart Sutra", and it looked very ordinary.The four corners of the cover were even slightly worn out.

If the person in front of him hadn't brought it over, the shopkeeper might not have even glanced at it.

It is only regarded as a biography of unofficial history peddled on the street stalls on the roadside, and half of the attention is stingy.

"The paper is not pine flower paper, and the inscriptions are not authentic works of celebrities."

The shopkeeper rubbed his chin and thought, "It's just a very common booklet, how can we accept it?"

He looked up at the person behind the counter, with hesitation in his expression.

In the darkness that could not be illuminated by the dim butter lamp, there was a vague human silhouette standing faintly.

"Then I'll add this."

After a long time, the man suddenly made a hoarse voice, and put another thing on the counter.

Accompanied by a crisp metallic sound, a piece of snow-white sleeves swayed under the lamp, and a shining sword fell on the counter.Then, the white sleeve returned to the darkness.

The shopkeeper took a closer look, his eyes lit up immediately, and he couldn't help but praised: "Oh, what a sword!"

The visitor seemed to smile slightly, and the shopkeeper asked, "My lord, how many taels of silver do you want for this saber of yours?"

"You want to take it?"

The shopkeeper said: "Naturally!"

The man stretched out two fingers and said slowly:

"With you, I have two conditions. If you agree, I won't even ask for a tael of silver."

"Sir, please speak."

"First, accept that booklet as well."

"it is good."

The shopkeeper responded, glanced at the booklet on the cabinet, and thought in his heart: It's really strange, this sword is clearly priceless, but in the eyes of this person, it seems to be as contemptible as straw, just a small thing that can be thrown away.On the contrary, I attach so much importance to this booklet.

"Second, keep the book properly after receiving it, and don't destroy or lose a single bit."

The shopkeeper said, "Naturally."

After a moment of silence, he felt strange after all, but he still couldn't help asking: "Are you really not asking for a tael of silver?"

The man smiled and said softly: "I'm going to die tomorrow, what's the use of being a silver?"

The shopkeeper was slightly taken aback, and then heard him continue: "700 years later, I will come back to redeem this booklet, and I will give you a million taels of gold as a thank you gift."

The sky was thunderous.

When he said this, it happened that a snow-white lightning bolt exploded, reflecting the whole sky brightly for a moment, allowing the shopkeeper to clearly see his face hidden in the darkness.

... so clear and dusty, so... so sad and desolate.

"You don't have to be afraid, there is nothing weird about this book. To you, it is just an ordinary pawn."

The man seemed to smile: "It's just that for me, I often forget some things. I just recorded the stories I've seen over the years in it."

The rain became heavier and heavier, hitting the tiles of the roof like jade beads falling down.

The visitor left behind the book and the sword, and walked into the rain curtain alone.

The shopkeeper opened his mouth and stared blankly at him, but saw that the man was not holding an umbrella, and not a single drop of rain had touched his body.

It was as if there was an invisible umbrella above his head, isolating him from the dust and heavy rain of this world.

The wooden door at the entrance of the store was not closed tightly, and a gust of rain and wind came in, slightly blowing away the booklet that the man left on the cabinet.

The shopkeeper lowered his head, looking at the thin volume under the dim oil lamp.

After a long while, he reached out his hand hesitantly, twisted the first page, and turned it——

I saw Jiji wrote on the title page: The world of mortals is suffering.

A bitter, weak marriage.