C22

It turned out that the fifth brother's name was Jia Li. With this name, things would be much easier to handle. I looked back at that stick of incense. There weren't many left, but it was still enough to interrogate the fifth brother. The thought of Cao Lao Wu made my teeth itch. If I didn't have my so-called third eye when I removed the nail, perhaps I would have been like Uncle Fu. No, maybe even worse than Uncle Laifu, because he was twisting my neck. In addition, after his death, he caused so much trouble that even the chickens and dogs in the village were disturbed. This was even more sinful, so this time, he had to let it go with him.

I thought that if I could convict him directly, I would sentence him directly and save myself the time of going to trial again. But here, I suddenly thought of the question of how to convict, how to base the law on anything, and how to enforce it. My eyes wandered to the pile of books in the corner of the desk, three very thick books, and I picked one up at random. The book was very old, and it looked to be quite old. The cover was a painting of how the devils of hell punished the wicked. There was a waist chop, a tongue pull, fried oil, grinds, and so on. These scenes could be seen in some temples or city temples. There were three words written on the right side of the book, and the drawing room was very open. Every line seemed to be drawn with a knife, like bamboo leaves, and there were some areas where a symbol could not be considered a word. I don't understand, say is tadzhiwen also not like, is it a legend of the zhuwen? Some places are also called Water Books, a type of text written for the dead. I turned a page at random and didn't recognize a single word, not even a punctuation.

I put the book back and felt a little tired. It was indeed tiring to stay in this environment for a long time. I rubbed my eyes, composed myself and shouted, "Jia Lai!"

Just when I finished shouting 'Jia Lai', which was Old Cao and Old Wu, I was waiting for him to appear. Unexpectedly, at this moment, the surroundings suddenly lit up. Before his eyes could adjust from the darkness, his face was hit by a heavy hammer. I was about to say something about what kind of plane you were on when I got hit in the face a couple of times. I panicked for a moment, my eyes not only unable to open but also full of stars. I narrowed my eyes and reached out to block it, turning my body away from the frontal attack. I was hit in the back a few more times, and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised at what I saw. I was lying on the floor in my bedroom, with the lights on, surrounded by books, and the legs of the desk on my left. There was a hurried knock on the door, and Mom was shouting for the door to open.

I struggled to turn my head to see which grandson had hit me, but unexpectedly, my face was kicked again. This kick was very heavy, causing my nose to feel sour. A stream of heat flowed into my mouth. When I saw the blood, the fire in my heart flared up and I stood up abruptly. Unexpectedly, a heart-wrenching pain came from my thigh as I was unable to control myself and fell to my knees on the ground. I thought I was going to be beaten up forever. I would have to find a place to hide for a while and wait until I could see what was going on. I scrambled under the desk and crouched against the wall, so that the pain in my thigh was immediately apparent, as if someone had stabbed me. When I looked at the place where the pain was coming from, I saw a red mark on it. It seemed that I had slept in the wrong place. But strangely, I remembered that I was sleeping on a bed. I didn't have time to think about it, because now there were feet on the ground, very white, and when I looked up, a corner of a big blue trouser leg was sticking out.

Glass again! You are a f * cking calamity!

Then the desk was lifted above my head, and I rolled over onto my knees and looked back. Glass was glaring at me with both hands, and at the same time she threw the desk at me with a movement of her hands. I jumped onto the bed, dodging, and the desk thumped against the wall. I crouched on the bed and stared at the glass, trying to prevent his next move. At the same time, he was extremely shocked, because there was a cabinet under the desk which was filled with books, and the desk was made of solid wood, made from sophora wood. This kind of wood was very dense, so the two added together weighed at least a hundred pounds. I looked back at the window. It was still dark outside, and I thought I'd flip out of the window if I had to. However, just as I was thinking about this, the glass flashed and blocked the window, as if it had thought of this beforehand.

Right now, the glass wall definitely wasn't Old Madame Zhao's. It was definitely Old Fifth Cao. She didn't expect him to be able to control the glass to the extent that he could do whatever he wanted. He really wasn't simple.

Glass giggled at me. It was the kind of low, husky laugh that makes people scared when they look at it. Her eyes were evil, filled with savagery. They were not the eyes of glass.

I looked down for something I could use, but there was no sign of it, and then Cao's fifth brother saw the opportunity and leapt at me. Fortunately, I was prepared. I leaned back on the bed, bent my legs slightly against his momentum, endured the pain, clenched my teeth, and kicked. The kick hit him right in the chest of the glass, knocking him back against the window. He thought he would fall down, but instead he grabbed the edge of the window with both hands and squatted on the windowsill. He glared at me, bared his teeth in anger.

There was another knock at the door, and I thought I couldn't stand up to him any longer. I had to get out, or else it would be so easy for him to tear me apart with his strength.

So I got up and moved slowly back toward the door, and then the glass shifted and came straight at me again, like an arrow, very fast, and in the blink of an eye it was right in front of me. I knew it was too powerful for me to block it, so I immediately crouched down and dodged it. The glass could not help but crash into the wall!

I turned around, and before he could turn around, I kicked him again, and the glass slammed into him a second time. I looked at the opportunity and hurried towards the door. If I had run out directly, I would have been able to do it at this time. However, the door was inserted, and the old-fashioned bolt couldn't be pulled due to the rust.

I was just about to unbolt the door when a gust of wind from the glass came up behind me and I turned my head and he grabbed me by the neck and pinned me against the door. It's too fast for me to dodge. Subconsciously, I tried to break his hands, but his hands were as hard as cement. Furthermore, his strength was so great that I couldn't break his hands at all. Even if I used my hands to push him, I wouldn't be able to move. The glass face gradually broke into an evil smile, and at the same time, my hands tightened their grip on my neck as they held me up against the door. As soon as my feet left the ground, I could not muster up any strength. My mind went blank, my face grew larger and larger, I could not breathe, and my hands were powerless as they hammered at the door. It seems that I won't be able to pass this test today. In the end, I died at the hands of my own brothers. How ironic.

My eyelids drooped, and though I tried to open them, it was useless. At this moment, there was a sudden "smack", as if the door was kicked open. Following which, I fell forward. I was lying on the glass, gasping for breath. I heard footsteps in my ears, and I felt the glass beneath me start to move, but then it suddenly shook violently and stopped.

Someone came to help me up, sat me down on the bed, and helped me to straighten up. I coughed for a while before I came to my senses. After taking two deep greedy breaths, he finally managed to regain his life after two lifetimes of experience.

"Fortunately, the door was made of five-fold plank, otherwise, something big would have happened this time!" Dad exclaimed.

The so-called five story plank was made from a five story plank. Although it was a bit thicker than the three layer plank, it was much more brittle than the solid wood or iron doors. It was usually used for temporary buildings. Our house had just been renovated, and since we were short on money, we used this kind of door first. I didn't expect it to save my life today.

"Glass... How's the glass? " I whispered.

"The glass is fine, his life is not good, it's too easy for him to get those things." His mother said, then continued after a while, "It's best if you don't get entangled with him too much in the future. Otherwise, you might lose your life as well."

Glass's fate is too poor, I know that, but it's not so easy for me to give up this friend of mine. The brotherhood between me and him is beyond the comprehension of others, including my mother.

I rested for a while before I completely recovered my strength. My parents told me a few things before they went back. I walked over to the glass and squatted down to look at him. I saw that he was sleeping, so I ignored him. After all, it was still very hot, so it didn't matter if he slept on the ground.

Then I noticed that there was something stuck to the glass's forehead, like a speck of ash, and I was about to wipe it off for him when my hand stopped at his forehead. Because the dust didn't look like it was his own, it looked like someone else had pressed it, and I hadn't noticed it before. His mother had probably pressed the button on the glass to suppress it. I have heard about this thing before, people's foreheads are the way for the soul to enter and exit. With cinnabar and cinnabar, mixed with glutinous rice water, it will form a paste and fall on the forehead to prevent the soul from entering and leaving. I had heard this recipe from my mother before, because I always lost my soul when I was young, and she had done it before. I thought he was just talking about it, but who would have thought that it actually worked today? The glass was quiet now, and it must have been his own soul that was sealed inside of him. However, only his parents would know how Cao Lao Wu's soul was forced out of his body, or perhaps only his mother, since she rarely revealed these things to anyone else.

I looked at the wound on my thigh. The mark was still very clear, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I rubbed it with my hand, and the pain made me gasp. I turned my head to look at the glass before looking at the bed. I thought to myself, Forget it.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but it was done in an instant, from drowsiness to wakefulness, because someone pinched me hard in the thigh, right where the herringbone mark was, and I jumped at the pain I had never felt before.

"Erlang, you wicked thing, I, your father, will accompany you to your home and you actually let your father sleep on the floor. You didn't even give me a seat, yet you took a bed for yourself. Your conscience has been eaten by dogs."

I didn't know what to say when I heard the glass say that, but I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, the glass was still hanging by a thread yesterday, life and death was unpredictable. Now that it can return to normal, I'm really happy. On the other hand, Glass almost killed me last night, and now she's wronged me, which makes me sad. The two emotions were intertwined, and for a moment I didn't know what to say about him. I glanced at the glass and pointed at him without saying anything. As soon as this anger subsided, the pain in my thigh spread throughout my entire body. I collapsed onto the bed, grimacing in pain.

How clever Glass was to see that I was not right, and she came to look at my lap and was stunned. After a long while, he suddenly shouted, "It's not me, it's not me. I've been holding back my strength."

When I looked at it, I was also shocked because the red mark had turned purple. "Shut up, grandson!"

I rested at home all morning and my legs were better, but I still didn't understand how my legs could be like this. I carefully organized the events of the night before. I didn't fall asleep when Cao Lao Wu came in, and I confronted him when I was standing by the desk. I picked up the head and threw it at the glass, and then Cao Lao Wu stabbed me with his knife and I entered the process of judging Yin. That's right, Old Fifth Cao stabbed me in the thigh, and the place where he cut me was in my thigh. Thinking about that, a layer of sweat appeared on my head, because I remembered that Old Fifth Cao's trident blade, which was originally used in the special forces combat situations. Even if I didn't die at that time, I would have died because I couldn't stop the blood from flowing. The marks left by these knives are very similar to the marks on my leg, and they are also shaped like an adult's shape, which means that Cao Lao Wu's knife strike was both real and non-existent.

Because if it was true, my leg wasn't bleeding, and I went straight to the shady part; if it was empty, it left a trace of the triple-edged knife, and I woke up at the desk. This was truly too hard to explain. Also, the question is whether I was in a dream last night.