Chapter 52 [Ox Head]

previous life.

2021, December 23.

A small town on the west coast of Maple Leaf Country.

A wooden house.

The gardens and lawns were obviously carefully manicured on weekdays. One day before Christmas, some colorful balls and ribbons had been hung in the yard, and there was also a Christmas tree placed in the yard, which had been trimmed in half.

Near the eaves, in a glass greenhouse, which cuts off the cold air outside, pots of flowers and plants are growing happily.

Inside the house, there is a room with excellent lighting. There is a Chinese-style table, with a square of snow-white rice paper spread on the table at the corner of the curling cloud, and copper tiger head paperweights pressed on both sides.

A woman stands at the table with a phone in her hand.

"... His last message... Everyone is silent... See you in the next life, Niutou."

"Okay, I'm on a mission, so I won't say any more."

The woman answered calmly and gently pressed the button to hang up.

"So... is he dead?" The woman sighed and said to herself, "Do you still like to call me Niutou so much... I hate this name so much."

It was as if the news of that person's death did not bring any emotional fluctuations to her.

The woman calmly put away the phone.

Raising his hand, he held a stick of rosin ink with his slender fingers and gently ground it on a water-patterned lotus inkstone.

Every movement she makes is gentle, meticulous and methodical.

After a while, she put down the ink, reached out and gently picked up a wolf hair hanging on the pen mountain.

Soak it in ink, pick up the pen and start writing on the rice paper.

In the warm room, the woman's delicate face had a calm expression, and she was wearing a long red dress, which highlighted the sickly paleness of her face.

Especially the long snow-white hair is even more weird.

With a flick of the wrist, the pen moves like a dragon:

The spring breeze does not hesitate to be beautiful,

How can I sigh at the passing years and smile at my white temples?

After writing, the woman put down her pen, read it quietly for a few seconds, exhaled, and nodded with satisfaction.

"Actually, I understand the mentality of people like you."

The white-haired woman said slowly. She raised her head and looked at a middle-aged man sitting on the sofa in the room.

The middle-aged man was about fifty years old. He originally had a square face that was quite dignified, but now his face was full of fear. He was leaning weakly on the sofa. He seemed to want to move, but he could only slump there helplessly.

The woman blew on the rice paper carefully and continued: "You are the kind of person who does big things, then rolls up the money and comes here, treating it like a paradise, as if you have committed all the evil things."

It has nothing to do with you.

Every day, I play with flowers and plants, and get some artsy antiques.

Write and draw.

Did the devil become a Buddha?

But there is nothing so cheap in this world.

Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha immediately. Is it so easy to become a Buddha?

Those whose families were ruined by you, those whose wives and children were separated by you, those who were swept away by you for most of their lives, those who were deceived by you into selling their houses and land...

You said you put down the butcher's knife, and those creatures you tortured could be wiped out like this?"

At this point, the woman smiled faintly and laughed at herself: "Of course, I am not a messenger of justice. To kill you, someone paid for your life. Not much, one million. The job is small, and others will look down upon it.

, I took it on my own initiative."

"I, I can give you more!" The middle-aged man gritted his teeth, blushed, and struggled desperately, but was still unable to make a single move.

"I know that you are rich, and you took away hundreds of millions from that scam in China. But... it won't work. If the person here today is not me, maybe you can spend tens of millions to find a way to survive.

"

The woman looked up at the middle-aged man and said calmly: "But it won't work for me."

After a pause, the woman then smiled and said:

"If Yama wants you to die, I will be responsible for seducing souls. Remember me when you walk down the road to hell. I am the soul seducer under Yama's tent."

After saying that, the woman picked up a gun on the desk and gently turned on the silencer.

Plop!

Two shots!

One shot in the forehead and one shot in the chest.

The middle-aged man stopped moving.

The woman walked quietly to the sofa and looked at the man's body quietly.

After a few seconds, she raised the gun and pointed it at the man's body.

Puff, puff, puff...

Empty the magazine in one go!

After putting away the gun, the woman looked at the body quietly for a while, then turned and left.

With very light steps, she opened the door and went out of the house, taking a look at the flowers in the greenhouse in the yard.

"Humph, the beauty cannot withstand the wind and rain."

The woman slowly walked to the side of the road and got into a car parked there.

He started the car with a calm expression and drove along. As the car drove, the coastline in the distance became clearer and clearer.

Over and over in my mind, I recalled the conversation I had when I sat in front of that guy for the first time.

"May I have your name?"

"Yu Naitang."

"Is it the pickled fish?"

"……Yes."

"White Rabbit toffee's toffee?"

"No, it's Nai! Does Jiuding know what big tripod means? It's a ritual vessel used by emperors in ancient times."

"...I don't know, which word? Write it for me."

"..." Pick up the pen...

"Oh, this one. Where's the sugar?"

“Begonia’s Tang!!”

"...Oh, Naitang...NT, hey, let's call you Niutou from now on!"

"It doesn't sound as good as milk candy! Don't want it..."

"No, you want it! How can there be no bull's head in Yama's tent?"

"Who is that horse face?"

"I don't know. I'll tell you when I meet the right one later."

·

That guy... that guy... is dead?

The fingers holding the steering wheel slowly tightened, but a smile slowly appeared on his face.

"There are green mountains in your heart, why bother to follow others to see peach blossoms.

But Qingshan is no longer there, so there is no attachment left."

With that said, he let go of his hand on the steering wheel, picked up the phone, and sent the last message.

"Niutou...is offline."

On this winter afternoon, a car rushed out of the coastline. The silver car body seemed to draw a strange arc in mid-air, crashed out of the beach, and flew into the waves!

·

Return to this time and space again.

2001, March 26.

Lao Sun got up and sent the guest to the door.

Next to worker Liu was a man in a suit, with a calm expression and quite a bit of momentum.
To be continued...