The Record of Righteousness

It was dark.

The spring breeze outside the paper-pasted window was no longer gentle, as if there were wronged souls clamoring in it, knocking on the doors and windows tirelessly.

Three bloody bodies lay in the house, one of which was the boy and girl, and one was the old man's.

The murder weapon, the kitchen knife, was thrown aside carelessly, and the blade was covered with blood.

Wang Qing curled up on the dark earthen kang, looking at the bodies with a pale face, lost in thought.

After all, he killed these three innocent people. For some reason, his conscience was aching.

Wang Qing didn't know what time it was now. There was a piece of white wax on the window beside the bed, flickering and emitting a faint light.

In the endless darkness outside the house, this piece of candle was like a boat drifting in the turbulent waves, and it was unknown when it would be overturned by the waves.

Wang Qing couldn't sleep. He had just had a nightmare again.

He just dreamed of his parents and brother, standing at the door of the house with pale faces, calling his name over and over again, asking him to go with them.

Wang Qing refused to obey in his dream, repeating:

"If I go with you, who will avenge you?"

But his parents and brother laughed out loud when they heard these words. The laughter sounded like an owl or a wolf, like a howl or a cry, filled with endless sorrow and resentment, as well as disdain for Wang Qing.

That terrifying smile made him unforgettable for life, and now he still gets goose bumps when he thinks about it.

Then the ghost in the dream gradually faded away.

Wang Qing watched his relatives go away, but he couldn't help crying and howling.

When he woke up, he found that his clothes were wet with tears, and his face was soaked with tears like a civet cat.

He took out the "Sunflower Manual" in his arms for some unknown reason.

"If you want to practice magic skills, draw a knife to castrate yourself."

Wang Qing was at least half a scholar, and he read the words in the book effortlessly with the help of a candle.

"I never thought that the books I read now would be used for this. It's God's will, God's will."

He smiled sadly, unable to express the helplessness and sadness in his heart.

He seemed to have made up his mind, and the confusion between his eyebrows turned into courage, and he picked up the kitchen knife directly.

Wang Qing put it on the candlelight to bake for a while, and looked at his lower body.

"Dad, Mom, please forgive me for being unfilial."

The hand holding the knife trembled slightly.

Wang Qing held a wooden stick in his mouth, raised his head and widened his eyes, and raised the kitchen knife in his right hand high.

After taking a deep breath for two moments, Wang Qing's face became fierce, and he roared in his throat, and he led the knife to chop down directly.

In an instant, Wang Qing's lower body was soaked with a touch of scarlet, and then the blood spread wildly, dyeing the entire earthen kang red.

The kitchen knife fell to the ground with a clang.

Wang Qing was like a beast, his throat kept roaring, his whole body was shaking constantly, and his nails were digging into the soil.

With trembling hands, he picked up the slightly cleaner cloth that he had just prepared to stop the bleeding.

The severe pain made him sweat profusely, his eyes were full of blood and blood, and he covered his lower body and rolled around on the kang uncontrollably.

"If I survive today, I will make the world repay me tenfold or a hundredfold in the future!"

The wind outside the window howled even more joyfully, mixed with painful wails and roars, like an evil ghost who had suffered injustice.

...

When Wang Qing opened his eyes again, it was no longer the thatched hut where he had just killed people and robbed goods, and the three bloody corpses were gone.

Instead, it was a familiar scene.

He returned to the long-lost and familiar home, the dilapidated wooden door of the house, and the devastated paper windows.

Everything was so familiar. Wang Qing looked at the dazzling sunlight outside and couldn't help but mutter to himself in a trance:

"How can this be... so real?"

"What's real? Qing'er, what are you talking to yourself about?"

A woman suddenly appeared and patted Wang Qing's forehead kindly.

Feeling the warmth of the palm on his head, Wang Qing looked at the woman in front of him, his eyes moistened, his voice trembled and bitter, as if it contained endless sorrow and helplessness, which turned into one sentence at this moment:

"Mom, I really miss you."

The woman smiled kindly and said, "Silly boy, why are you crazy again? Isn't mom always here?"

"I'm not crazy, mom, I just miss you."

Wang Qing rubbed his eyes, feeling very relieved, and asked again:

"By the way, where is my dad?"

"Silly boy, what happened to you today?

Your dad took your brother to the county to buy things for the wedding. Xi, the day after tomorrow is your elder brother's wedding day, how come you don't remember this?"

Wang Qing was confused, and felt that his head was like paste. He could only fool around when he heard his mother's doubts:

"Oh, so, I just woke up from a nap and felt a little dizzy."

The woman smiled, motioned Wang Qing to lie down, and said:

"Then it's probably because you didn't sleep well last night, and you must be too happy, so sleep a little longer."

Wang Qing wanted to refuse, but his body was not under his control at this time, and he lay down by himself. Looking at his mother's smiling face, sleepiness surged like a tide, and he lost consciousness all at once.

...

"Pah pah pah pah pah pah..."

"Clang clang clang clang..."

The sound of firecrackers mixed with the sound of gongs and drums woke Wang Qing from his sleep.

He suddenly sat up from the kang and found that he had changed into a festive red dress, which was much more decent than usual.

The room was no longer filled with shabby furniture and dim, dark wooden doors. Instead, it was filled with brand new furniture with an antique feel, a dazzling collection of calligraphy and paintings, and curling scents of sandalwood. It was obvious at first glance that this was a wealthy family.

Looking out, the shabby little thatched courtyard had long disappeared, and what came into view were flying eaves and brackets, a beautiful pond and bamboo, a finely crafted pavilion, thick walls of blue bricks and gray tiles, lanterns and decorations, and many smiling servants and maids hurrying around.

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