Supreme pardon

In Wen Renjue's eyes is a blackness without a trace of emotion, it is a kind of blackness that can devour everything, enough to make the person who looks at it unable to last for a minute.

It was Xiang Yang, who only looked at each other for a few seconds, then quietly looked away.

Wen Renjue didn't seem surprised by his sudden turning back, still maintaining his half-supported body, silently staring at his position, and the jungle behind him... That was the direction Feilong and the others left, Xiang Yang suddenly moved the corner of his mouth , and his gaze lightly swept over Wenren Jue.

no, still no...

Without the hatred he thought, Xiang Yang couldn't see the desire for revenge and the hatred... or sadness in the other party's eyes.

It was this violation that made him pay attention... Thinking of this, there was a stick half a person's height in his line of sight, and he suddenly moved towards the stick.

As soon as he moved, Wen Renjue, who was staring in his direction, shifted his pupils, urine was still dripping from the corners of his hair and brows, but the young man didn't seem to feel his embarrassment, and he was carrying something that he shouldn't have. Quiet, staring at Xiangyang.

Unlike a living thing, Xiang Yang frowned even tighter, but still maintained his composure, walked to the stick, raised his powerful right leg back, and suddenly kicked the stick hard, towards Wen Ren Jue's The direction struck.

The half-person tall wooden stick turned its head back and forth in the air, and quickly flew towards Wenren Jue's position. The young man finally shifted his gaze from Xiangyang to the stick, quickly lowered his head, and lay down on the ground again, his arms protecting his head.

The sharp wind from the stick passed by his ears and landed beside him. Wen Renjue seemed to sense something, and looked again at the young man standing in front of him.

But Xiang Yang turned around expressionlessly, and chased Feilong and the others.

Wen Renjue stared at the wooden stick that fell by his side for a while, then stretched out his hand to grab it, and with the support of the wooden stick, he finally stood up.

With some difficulty, he walked a few steps forward with a wooden stick. Yellow liquid dripped from his chin. He paused for a while, as if he remembered something. After thinking about it for a while, he still walked to the right.

There is a small stream dug from the big river near the gathering place, which is usually used for drinking by the people in the gathering place. It is not dangerous and is close to the gathering place.

Using a wooden stick to find a support point in the water, Wen Renjue carefully took off the clothes with the wound on his body, and submerged his whole body directly in the water, and buried his head in the water for a long time. If there were other people around, he might think that he had already suffocated. died.

It seemed that he had reached the limit of holding his breath, a black-haired head popped out of the water, Wenren Jue just came out of the water, and he started to breathe rapidly.

The urine smell left on his body was washed away with clean water, including the blood all over his body.

After getting out of the water, Wen Renjue rested on the boulder on the shore for a while, lost the stick, and seemed to have some inconvenience in his legs and feet, and limped towards the destination. When passing by the wild fruit forest, he picked up two pieces from the ground. A fruit, noticing that there were no gathering place people guarding the forest around him, he carefully hid it.

After walking for a while on the path scattered with fine stones, he turned around several wooden houses, and at the end of the gathering place, there were two small wooden houses there. Wen Renjue walked faster, and walked towards one of them.

Like most of the houses in this gathering place, the structure of the wooden house is simple, with wooden walls, wooden windows, and wooden doors, but the roof is not covered with gray tiles, but a kind of sun-dried vegetation.

Just as Wen Renjue arrived in front of the wooden house, the short wooden door was pushed open, a somewhat withered hand left from the gap in the wooden door, and then there were footsteps moving away from the wooden door, and an old voice sounded in the room: " come in."

Standing at the door for a while, Wen Renjue stomped his feet, shook off the fallen leaves on the upper of his shoes, and then bent down to get into the room. Just after entering the room, he turned around and closed the wooden door consciously.

This wooden house is obviously simpler and shorter than other wooden houses in the gathering area, but it seems to have enough space for an old man to live in. Wen Renjue slightly narrowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room.

There is a small wooden table in the middle of the room, on which is the only light in the room, a white candle.

This candle can't illuminate the whole room at all, but fortunately, the top of the head is not a solid tile, but dried grass, which allows some sporadic sunlight to shine in, barely allowing people to see the appearance of objects in the room.

There is a person sitting bowed on the ground behind the wooden table, wearing a slightly wrinkled robe, the turban is tilted to one side, his face is unnaturally red, the exposed skin is wrinkled, against the firelight, a pair of lifeless light blue The colored eyeballs moved.

He seemed to examine Wenren Jue for a while, and then he sighed lightly and said, "Sit over there, it rained heavily last night, and you're drenched."

The voice is dry and hoarse.

But Wen Ren Jue still obediently moved forward a few steps, touched it with his hands, and found a slightly dry place before sitting down on the floor.

It's not gray tiles, so it doesn't have the effect of blocking the rain. Whenever it rains heavily, the inside of the wooden house may be more humid than the outside, but the "old man" has lived in such a place for five years.

According to the habits of people on earth, when they meet old people, they will call them "old man" respectfully, but Wen Renjue dare not call the person in front of him "old man" because the people in front of him hate this appellation so much, so he has no choice but to call it "old man". The other party shouted at the request: "Old An."

Old An's light blue eyes lingered on him for a moment, then turned around again, groped in the cabinet beside him for a while, seemed to find something, and threw it over with a wave of his hand.

Wen Renjue reached out to take it, it was the same as before, it was a small bottle, he held it in the palm of his hand and turned it for a while before looking up at the old man again.

Mr. An leaned back, and handed over the shiny object again.

Wen Ren Jue didn't answer, but frowned.

The old man in front of him let out a "chi" laugh, and with just one sound, the dead silence was restored again. The hoarse voice seemed to be panting with difficulty before asking: "If you don't hold the mirror, how are you going to unplug your mirror?" The thorns in the face?"

Wen Renjue didn't speak, just took off the half-wet black robe from his body with gentle movements, just now he went to wash himself in the stream, he washed the black robe together, it wasn't dry at all.

Borrowing the candlelight on the table, he stroked his upper face with his well-defined but wounded fingers, and when his fingertips touched the thorns, he pulled them off his face one by one without even raising his eyebrows.

Because there is no mirror, I can only touch randomly on the face. It is inevitable that some thorns will be broken by fingers or penetrate deeper into the flesh. It can be seen that Ren Jue still has not changed his mind, and stubbornly groped to pull out one by one.

Mr. An sat and watched him pull out the thorns one by one from his face, his movements were numb as if the bleeding was not his own face, and finally he said: "Ask for trouble!"

Two people were in the small and dim room, one was huddled in the robe and leaning against the cabinet with dead eyes, the other was groping with his hands to pull out the spikes one by one, the movements were smooth, and there was some harmony for a while.

It's just that this harmony was quickly broken. Wen Renjue pulled out the thorns on his face, dug out some ointment from the vial, wiped it perfunctorily on the wound on his face, quickly put down the vial, and opened his mouth. .

"You're dying."

Discourse is assertive and direct.

The old man trembled while leaning against the wooden cabinet, and then smiled wryly: "Little brat, why don't you know how to repay your kindness?"

"It's the truth." Wen Renjue put away the small bottle and stuffed it into his bosom, he understood the benefits of this ointment very well.

There was a sudden expression on the old man's silent face, as if he rolled his eyes towards the sky, "If I still have strength, I should beat you!"

"You can hit me now if you want to." Wen Renjue has never had anyone who can communicate with him since he was a child, and Mr. An is an exception. Maybe he didn't realize that he talked a lot in front of this old man.

After speaking, he moved his body in front of the old man, as if waiting to be beaten.

Old An raised his hand angrily, and after a long time it gently landed on top of his head.

The person under the palm trembled, and under the dim light, the old man saw the young man raised his head, his dark pupils staring at him for a moment.

Still unable to bear it, the old man opened his mouth, his voice was unprecedentedly gentle, "Boy Wen, sit down, don't stick so close to me, like a child asking for milk."

The muscles on the ugly face seemed to tremble, Wen Renjue backed away again, and sat down on the ground three steps away from the old man.

After waiting, he still opened his mouth: "The garbage man can live for five years, which is not short-lived."

Mr. An stopped his hand to pour the water, and suddenly "hahaha." He laughed loudly, as if the boy in front of him had told some terrible joke.

"Boy Wen, are you comforting me?"

Wen Renjue didn't answer, just watched the other party quietly.

It has been five years since Mr. An came to their gathering place. When he first came, he was only nine years old. Since the death of his six-year-old mother, he has been given alms by the people in the meeting place like a dog. At the age of nine, I was already able to find food by myself.

It was not the first time he saw garbage people, most of them would die within a short period of time, and there had been garbage people in the gathering place before, but Mr. An was the first garbage person he was interested in.

I remember that time when the people in the gathering place hunted the "big thing", they were excited to share the food in the open space. When night fell, they even lit a bonfire to celebrate. More than 200 people laughed happily and shared the roasted meat. The delicious meat, this kind of joy infected everyone in the gathering place, and also allowed the young him to get in and get a share.

When he was run around in the crowd begging for a little bit of food like a dog, shouting "little bastard, little bastard", he inadvertently looked up at the man sitting next to the village chief. It was thanks to that garbage man that he hunted the big thing, but after just one glance, Wen Renjue's small body stopped unconsciously.

What kind of look is that...

Back then, he couldn't express how he felt at that moment, but after five years of secretly studying and reading with An Lao, Wen Renjue understood what kind of pupil he was watching when his eyes met at that moment back then. mood.

Compassion, or, a touch of mockery.

Against the background of more than 200 pairs of joyful eyes, it is enough to enter his mind deeply and never forget it.

There is a high and supreme, condescending gaze like a god.

It's just a weak garbage man, but he barely obtained the capital to survive in the gathering place by relying on pharmaceuticals.

After that time, Wen Renjue remembered this garbage man, and it happened that after being raped by Feilong and the others, he fell into a daze, and unconsciously approached the garbage man's residence, like a subconscious self-help.

After so many years, Wen Renjue began to think about why he chose to approach this garbage man after his despair that day, but there was no good explanation.

It's just that the subconscious choice was not wrong that time. The garbage man saw himself lying at the door after going out, dragged him into the house, and treated himself.

This kind of tacit understanding lasted for many years, until one time when the old man was away and Wen Renjue was silently staring at a book in his room, Mr. An decided to teach him to read again.

In the past five years, Mr. An taught him how to read and write, silently treated him after he was injured, and even taught him to identify some poisonous plants and food that can be eaten. And he, relying on the knowledge of Mr. An, Survived better in this gathering place, and even shared half of the food problem for the elderly.

Elder An will regularly make a batch of venom for the people in the gathering place. Applying this venom will always make it easier for the people in the gathering place to defeat those huge prey and eliminate those aliens that are harmful to the gathering place.

However, the production of this venom is troublesome and the amount is small, which also makes An Lao's situation a bit strange, saying it is useless?Of course there is.Said useful?It is not very useful, so the people in the gathering place are not enthusiastic about him, they only treat him as a translucent person.

But Wen Renjue, who has been with Mr. An for a while, knows that Mr. An's abilities are definitely not limited to those he showed, and even that kind of venom. If Mr. An is willing, it is not a problem to make as much as he wants.

Wen Renjue didn't ask why Mr. An didn't fully demonstrate his abilities, so as to gain a higher status and a better situation for himself.He just thought that Mr. An must have a reason, and he could no longer be curious to explore the rest.

There's always something odd about these trash men.

Yes, these garbage people are always different from the people on the earth. They come from outside the sky, with a sense of aloofness, and each of them is fragile and quickly collapses into the dust.

The earth has been the star of "garbage dumping and criminal exile" for more than 300 years, and it has been isolated by humans who migrated to outer galaxies for more than 700 years.

For more than 1000 years, except for the earliest period of turbulence, in the long years after that, the people on Earth have already become the outcasts of the interstellar humans.

And native earthlings like Wen Renjue can't feel any kindness to these human beings who are dumped onto the earth together with alien garbage.

Even if they are both outcasts, they cannot give birth to the idea of ​​being of the same kind.

So these non-"indigenous people" got a title different from the people on earth: garbage people!

Mr. An has said many things to himself in the past five years, but Wen Ren Jue has always had a heart for one of them.

It was a sentence that Mr. An often stared at himself inexplicably and then talked to himself.

"You shouldn't live like this..."

It's like a seed, buried in the heart, although there is no sign of germination, but it is ready to move at any time.

Shouldn't it?

Wen Renjue would occasionally have such thoughts. When he was free to be lonely or in the mood to meditate, he felt that he should have a father to rely on, preferably a village head like Feilong's father, so that he could live. more comfortable.

Or he could have had a mother, not the dark lunatic I remembered, but kind and smiling.

But those thoughts, too many are just a moment.

He has survived without his parents, and he has never owned it, so he is surprisingly unaware that it is very difficult now.

Even if you are humiliated...

Old An's pupils were rarely angry, but every time he said that sentence to himself, the emotion was so high that he rarely became curious again.

Hearing people feel that he wants to see something.

what do you know.

The author has something to say: the plot of the second volume may really start to move in a sense...

But one volume is essential, even if it seems very slow.

However, reading has always been a matter of fate, and it is doomed to enter which pit.

It is estimated that one volume will polish many readers?

Although it is very heartbreaking, I will continue to ink a roll.sad!