Panguan

"Throw away the stone and give me your hand," he said.

When he heard it, he lowered his head and saw that he was holding a sharp-edged stone in his hand.

"I've been holding it for a long time to scare people, but I didn't see anyone throwing it away." He said again, with a hint of helplessness and amusement in his tone.

When I heard this, I had a sullen face and hesitated whether to continue scaring people. After a while, my hand hurt, so I threw the sharp stone on the side of the road.

With this throw, he could clearly see his hand.

In the dream, he was young and his hands were also very small. They were stained with a little dust from the stones and were not clean. The most important thing is that his hands are wrapped in black mist, lingering.

He looked down at his hands and rubbed them vigorously for a while until his white skin turned red and almost broke, but he could not get rid of the black mist.

The palm was still open in the wind and snow, waiting for him to grab it.

But he felt that he was dark and a little dirty, so he hesitated and put his hands behind his back. But before he could move, the man grabbed his finger and held him there.

"Why are you shrinking?" The man's hand was big and warm.

Wenshi struggled a bit, but couldn't resist his instinct, and was led by him to move forward.

After walking for a long time, Wen Shi finally spoke his first words. His voice was low, with a child's characteristic muffled voice.

"My hands are dirty," he said.

Many people said that he looked like an evil spirit.

The man was quiet for a while and replied: "It's not dirty."

Wen Shi looked at the snow on the ground and said in a muffled voice, "I just want to touch that bird."

It stared at its eyes, as if it had been sucked by an evil spirit, and fell to the ground motionless... and died. The children were so frightened that they ran away, thinking that he was an evil spirit like a demon.

In fact, he is more afraid than anyone else.

"I know." The man said again.

I was very wary when I heard it and didn't quite believe it.

He remembered that Songyun Mountain was very high. He used to be on the mountainside. He had to strain his neck to look at the top of the mountain, and it took a lot of effort to walk up.

But that day, the mountain trail became inexplicably shorter and not that cold, and we reached the end very quickly. Or maybe he was always thinking about the stiff bird, always feeling uncomfortable and absent-minded.

There is a treasure land on the top of the mountain, and there are also elegant houses like the mountainside.

The man led Wen Shi into the house and placed him on the couch.

When he let go of his hand, Wen Shi raised his eyes and saw that his fingers were covered with veins and were as thin as a handful of bones, with bright red blood snaking down his fingers.

...just like the bird before.

Wen Shi was suddenly frightened, and stayed there, staring at that hand with his eyes wide open, without blinking.

He had just killed a bird and was about to kill a man.

he thought in panic.

"You little kid, why are you so silent when you cry?" The man chuckled and lowered his hands. The wide sleeves fell from his wrists, blocking the skinny fingers and blood stains.

"I'm teasing you." He walked up to Wen Shi and bent slightly. Under Wen Shi's eyes, he rolled up the sleeve to his wrist again. His right hand, which had been withered and gray just a moment ago, had returned to normal, with a clean but pale tone. Those shocking changes just now seemed to be all illusions.

He blinked when he smelled it, feeling something wet dripping down his cheek flesh.

"Why are you staring at me? If you don't believe me, smell it. Does it smell like blood?" He stretched out his thin fingers, touched his chin with his knuckles, and wiped away the two hanging drops of cat tears.

When I smelled it, I didn't smell blood, only a very faint scent of pine.

"I'll show you something more," the man said again.

His clean hand was behind his back and seemed to be slightly twisted. When he stretched out his hand again, the bird that died when he was smelled was nestled in his palm, with its head curled up, and the down on its chest was fluffy and round, like a ball of hair.

He scratched the fur ball with his fingertips, and the bird chirped, opened its eyes, and fluttered its wings to the ground.

"Alive?" His voice was still a bit muffled when he heard it, with a waxy nasal sound.

The man smiled and said, "It's alive."

"Can it be raised?" Hearing this, he still felt uneasy.

The man said, "Are you responsible for food and drink? You can take care of me."

When Wen Shi asked: "How big can it grow?"

"It's very big." The man looked around and said, "The golden-winged roc can't fit in this room anyway."

When he heard it, he became bored again, and after a long time he said: "Then how to raise it."

The man bent down and looked at him, and said with a smile: "Have you called someone today? Call him properly, and I will give him a space to grow slowly so that he can't be squeezed."

The little baby on the couch confronted him for a long time, and then shouted politely: "The dust is gone!"

"No big or small." Chen Buo said.

***

It was at this time that I woke up.

The second before he opened his eyes, he was half asleep and thinking... Among the puppet masters, he was as high as the top of an unreachable mountain. The puppet he had raised for the longest time beside him could lift off half of the mountain with a flapping of his wings. Winged Dapeng was originally used to deceive children. Who would believe it if told.

…

Even he couldn't believe it himself.

When Wenshi sat up from the bed, those in the dream became vague shadows. There is some impression, but it is not clear.

The past seems to have been opened a little, and a little bit of the end is missing. He tried to think too much

I remembered something, but I was so groggy that my sun rays throbbed and hurt.