Chapter 1216

Cold moon, white lanterns, mountains in the wilderness, a desolate grave with a long history.

The current environment is definitely a good place to shoot thrillers and horror films. If there are intermittent faint cries, it will be more like.

But there was no cry, but the smell of food came from the thatched house.

The barren grave, which can be seen clearly under the moonlight, is behind the thatched house. There are about a dozen. On the slope down the mountain on the left side of the barren grave, there is a artificially developed vegetable field, that is, within a range of two or three hundred square meters, rows of plant leaves, less than half a meter high, have begun to wither, which represents maturity.

According to the sensitive smell of Mobei, she can judge that these plants have matured because she smells the smell of withered leaves falling to the ground and rotting.

She is quite sensitive to the smell of decay.

Since Mobei can smell that it is mature from the fallen leaves, there is no reason why it can't smell what kind of crop it is: potatoes.

The crops growing on the edge of wasteland graves are potatoes.

The smell coming from the thatched house is also the taste of potato stew. It's just that there is too much salt, soy sauce and sweet flour sauce, which makes it very rich and fragrant.

From the fact that salt and other spices are put more, Mobei can judge that the owner of the thatched house should be an old man.

Compared with the young people, the old people are somewhat dull to the salt taste because of the degradation of taste buds, so they will naturally put more salt when cooking.

Sure enough, just when Mobei first judged that he was here, a cough from an old man came from the hut.

He was an old man, coughing fiercely, just like he couldn't catch his breath at any time and hung up immediately.

It's all like this. He hasn't forgotten to say: "cough -- Xiao Huang, who chased you so embarrassed? Sweating, I'm tired to death. Cough."

Xiao Huang is the hare with light yellow hair.

This kind of yellow haired hare was first tamed in Belgium, so they are also called Belgium. It is a hybrid of hare and rabbit. It has strong disease resistance, large size and delicious meat. It has been popular in the countryside in the north and south of the river more than 30 years ago.

However, Mobei did not expect that rabbits could also be domesticated into domestic dogs, so that they could bring her here from the valley over there.

The most important thing is that you can't die.

If someone else came to the wild mountains in the middle of the night and saw a wasteland grave, thatched cottage, white lanterns and undead rabbits, he should be scared to death. Then he ran away in a panic and couldn't shout.

In particular, who knows if the old thing stewing potatoes in the thatched cottage is an "old ghost" who climbed out of the wasteland grave to harm people and brought a rabbit.

Don't forget that the special day when the gate of hell is open, that is, July 15 of the lunar calendar, hasn't been long.

Mobei did not escape.

People tried their best to attract her here. How boring it would be if she left like this?

Besides, she can be sure that even if she turns around and runs away when she sees something wrong, people can still have a way to force her over.

Both sides are like this, so Mobei really doesn't need to do that. He can walk to the thatched house with his heavy arms and heavy steps, raise his hand and knock on the defeated wooden door, and ask, "excuse me, is there anyone?"

"Cough, cough!"

The old man in the room coughed a few more times before he said, "the door is unlocked."

Mobei pushed the door and walked in. He was almost stung by the smell of rice, tobacco, strong sweat and the unique fox smell of rabbits.

"The smell is not good. Just leave the door open, okay?"

Mobei stood at the door and asked the host's advice politely.

The thatched cottage does not cover a large area, that is, ten square meters at most (if it is placed in the Pearl urban area and well decorated, it is estimated that it will sell at least 1.5 million. After all, the news of the bidding price of 6.68 square meters over there has spread all over the country like the Belgian rabbit variety). It is a wooden bed near the west wall, In the East, there is a broken cabinet with a chopping board and kitchen knives on the wall.

In a small place in the middle of the room, there is a clay stove (that is, a three legged one, like a round tripod, which directly burns dead branches and leaves). On it, there is an iron pot with golden potatoes and white fat meat slices rolling up and down in the heavy brown soup.

Every time she rolled, the aroma could evoke the greedy insects in the north of the desert and make her stomach coo happier.

An old man wearing an invisible vest with gray hair and wrinkled face could not see how old he was. He was sitting on a piece of wood at will, with an old-fashioned cigarette bag pot in his mouth and a rabbit in his arms.

The rabbit is the one who escaped from the northern desert one after another.

The rabbit named Xiao Huang, lying in the old man's arms, is staring at Mobei with her round eyes. It looks scared, angry and strange. It seems that at the next moment, it will suddenly speak: Dad, she almost killed me just now!

Mobei naturally doesn't mind what kind of eyes a rabbit who escaped from death looks at her.

She looked around the room and asked casually, "are you the tomb keeper?"

"Those who do not necessarily live near the tomb are the tomb keepers."

The old man took a cigarette, raised his head slightly, looked at the north and north of the desert with those muddy but deep old eyes, and then continued: "however, I am really a tomb keeper."

"Can I sit down?"

Mobei went to the earth stove and asked.

The old man didn't speak, but pointed to the firewood behind the door with a cigarette bag and pot, meaning to let her take a piece of wood suitable for her to sit down.

Mobei used his toes to hook the stump on the edge of the firewood pile in front of him, bent down and sat down, looked at the house again: "is it not afraid of heat to build a stove in the house on such a hot day?"

The old man coughed and said, "as long as you are normal, you won't feel hot in any season in this environment."

"Well, what you said is very reasonable. After normal people come here, they will only be scared to the cold air all over, so they won't feel afraid."

Look at Beimo and tell me, "it's normal for you to bow your head."

"I'm a normal person."

After the old man smoked the last cigarette, he knocked the cigarette bag pot on the soles of his shoes and asked, "who stipulates that the tomb keeper is not a normal person?"

"What mountain is this?"

Mobei suddenly asked.

This small mountain at an average altitude is called xiaoqunshan. Li Jie told her when he took Mobei north to alfalfa field.

However, after seeing the undead rabbits, the barren graves and the old man who claimed to be a normal man, mobeibei knew that the correct name of the mountain was not a small group of mountains officially named.

At the very least, this hill with a barren grave must have its own name.

"Why do you suddenly think of asking the name of this mountain?"

The old man seemed to turn his eyes. Before Mo Beibei answered, he said, "it's called returning to the mountain. Return is the return of return, and the mountain is the mountain of small mountains. "

"Back to the mountain? Back to Songshan Road, fireworks cover the grass. Green grass, clean mountains, green mountains, poplar and willow spring. At dusk, the sound of pines closes, and empty songs think of killing people. "

Mobei thought and read a poem.

"This is the return to the mountains by Liu Xiyi, a poet of the Tang Dynasty. I didn't expect your world to know."

The old man said faintly. From a greasy looking ceramic basin next to him, he picked up a wooden spoon that really didn't fit with hygiene, put it into the iron pot and slowly stirred it up.

More fragrant.

Mobei could not feel it. After the old man said this, her eyes and pupils narrowed like the tip of a needle. She put them on her legs, and the five fingers of her fat right hand clenched them fiercely. She was silent for a moment and asked slowly, "do you know the world?"

"As long as anything does exist, it may be known. This truth is very simple. It's really nothing to make a fuss about."

The old man didn't seem to see the change of Mo Beibei's look, and still stirred the pot slowly.

"Have you ever been to that place?"

Mobei loosened his clenched right hand.

The old man asked, "I said, I came out of that place. Do you believe it?"

"I don't believe it."

Without thinking about it, Mobei denied the old man's words: "as far as I know, no one has been able to come out of the Jiuyou world alive in recent 100 years, and can safely guard the grave here."

"That's because you don't know much."

The old man seemed to smile and stopped stirring the pot.

Mobei leaned forward slightly and asked almost word by word, "you really came out of that place?"

"I never seldom repeat what I said to people a second time."

The old man said lazily, took out a big bowl with a gap from the nearby pottery basin and began to serve vegetables.

Mobei looked at the spoon and said, "your words remind me of a person."

"Who?"

The old man finally cooperated and asked.

"Square -- circle."

Mobei felt a bitter taste in his mouth when he said the name of Fangyuan.

"I know the boy."

The old man didn't deny anything.

Since he knew the existence of Jiuyou world, he naturally had to know the area with complex relations there.

"What is your relationship with him?"

Mobei asked again.

"I want him to be my grandson. Do you think he will agree?"

The old man blinked and handed over the big bowl full of food: "do you want to eat?"

Mobei's mouth moved, but he didn't say anything. He reached out to pick up the heavy bowl and asked, "where are the chopsticks?"

The old man didn't speak, but he stretched out his dirty right hand, directly into the boiling pot, picked up a quick potato and filled it into his mouth. After chewing for a few times, he closed his eyes and sighed: "Alas, the cooking skill is a little bad, but it's OK."

Mobei looked at it directly.

Even when she was invulnerable, she didn't dare to eat like an old man.

The temperature of potatoes in boiling water is even higher than that in boiling water, but people's oral epidermis can be scalded at more than 70 degrees. The old man can comment on the taste of the food.

No wonder he doesn't have to wash his hands.

Even if there are any bacteria on your hands, they will almost die after reaching into the boiling water.

With a thump, Mobei swallowed and spit.

She really didn't have the courage to eat directly like the old man, although she had forced herself to ignore the hygienic quality of the food. After a silly moment, she broke two fingers thick and thin from the firewood next to her, so she could be regarded as chopsticks.

"Who the hell are you?"

Mobei picked up a potato and asked hard.