spirits in throat

Rong Zhao was tied outside, watching the fire getting bigger and bigger, Luo Jin ran out from inside.

"Where's Zhou Ye?!"

Only then did Luo Jin know that his real name was Zhou Ye: "He's still looking for something and won't come out."

In fact, everyone knows it, including Zhou Ye himself. If it has been so long and still hasn't been found, it will be very difficult to find it again.

Rong Zhao grabbed the shirt tied around his wrist, looked at the fiercely burning fire, and said loudly: "Either you bring him out, or untie him, choose yourself!"

Luo Jin shook his head: "I can't untie you, and I can't bring him back either."

In the current situation, the only thing he can do right is to listen to Zhou Ye's words and look after his sweetheart.

The fire was getting bigger and bigger, lighting up half of the sky, and thick smoke rushed out of the fire, covering the top of the head, forming a gray-brown mushroom cloud.

Rong Zhao looked at the house that was collapsing bit by bit, and then at the small ancestral hall that was shrouded in flames.

There were large and small ashes floating in the air, which were constantly blown by the wind and thermal air currents. Some of them fell into people's eyes, and the foreign objects irritated the eyeballs, making people want to cry.

Luo Jin untied the rope from Rong Zhao's body, and held his arm tightly with one hand, for fear that the other party would rush in.

Liu Junfeng, carrying a bomb on his back, came out from the side, looked at the burning house and said, "It's all burnt down, no one can get out."

Luo Jin glanced at Liu Junfeng: "Shut up."

Liu Junfeng stared back unconvinced: "I'm not wrong, the houses over there have collapsed, let alone whether the people inside will be burned to death, the thick smoke alone is enough to choke people to death inside, the fire The smoke inside is poisonous."

Rong Zhao raised his foot and kicked Liu Junfeng, and said a word from his throat coldly: "Get lost."

Liu Junfeng was kicked so hard that he hit a big tree, his internal organs were shaken, and he was too painful to make a sound.

Taking advantage of Luo Jin's attention being attracted by Liu Junfeng, Rong Zhao knocked him away with his own arm and ran into the fire scene.

Luo Jin came to his senses, ran after Rong Zhao, and ran to the gate, but was cut off by a thick door frame falling from the top of his head.

He stood where he was and stopped moving forward, not because he was afraid of the burning door frame, but because he knew that no matter what the outcome of the stage in front of him, be it tragedy or comedy, he should not step in.

Rong Zhao's wrists were bound by Zhou Ye's shirt, and he staggered a little while running, almost tripping over the burnt wood on the ground several times.

The courtyard is surrounded by fire, and this is the real place of fire.

The scorching fire waves burned on his body, and thick smoke filled his eyes. Rong Zhao shouted loudly while running: "Zhou Ye, come out!"

The only answer to him was the sound of crackling flames devouring everything.

Rong Zhao put his wrist on a cluster of flames, the fire ignited the shirt fabric on his wrist and burned his skin.

Breaking free from the shackles of his shirt, Rong Zhao ran towards the ancestral hall.

It is said that the ancestral hall is actually an ordinary room.Modern people don't keep cemeteries and memorial tablets at home, so this room is used to store some sacrificial supplies such as joss sticks and paper money.

Zhou Ye covered his nose and mouth with a wet towel, shook off a piece of burning wood that fell on his shoulder, and turned out an iron box from the corner with his bare hands.

The box was scorching hot, Zhou Ye opened it, and a layer of skin on his fingers stuck to the box, and it peeled off from his fingertips as soon as he retracted his hand.

A piercing pain came from his fingertips, Zhou Ye ignored the pain and opened the box with the last hope, his heart pounding with nervousness.

It was empty inside, no photos, nothing.

With a "snap", Zhou Ye ruthlessly threw the box on the ground.

The items in the room were almost burnt, and he wished he had some kind of super power to find the location of that photo, and even if one of his hands was lost, he would help him get it back.

With a "crash", a person ran out from behind the wooden door of the inner room.

This person is about 1.7 meters tall. He looks like a man. His clothes are worn out and worn out. He has no shoes on his feet. He has messy long hair and a beard that has not been shaved for several years. under the neck.

Those eyes were dark and cloudy. When they looked at Zhou Ye, they seemed to be frightened, and they turned around and ran inside.

"Stop!" Zhou Ye kicked away a burning chair and chased into the room inside.

The man held a piece of paper tightly in his hand, and it was hard to see what it was under the cover of thick smoke. Zhou Ye had a strong premonition that it must be the photo that Rong Zhao wanted.

Zhou Ye picked up a piece of wood leaning against the wall and smashed it hard at the man's leg.

The man was hit, and his escape slowed down. Zhou Ye took the opportunity to catch up, grabbed the man's shoulder, led him to his side, and pushed the man to the ground with his backhand.

Zhou Ye reached out to snatch the photo from the man's hand, but the other party held it too tightly for fear of tearing the photo, so Zhou Ye didn't dare to use too much brute force: "Give me the photo in your hand."

"No." The man seemed to have not spoken for a long time, his voice was so hoarse that it was difficult to utter a complete syllable, "No."

"I don't know who you are, but I guess you are one of the seven murderers back then, you don't deserve to hold this photo with these pair of people who killed people," Zhou Ye raised his foot and quickly landed, sternly Stepped on the man's wrist hotly, "I tell you to let go!"

"Ah--" The man's wrist was in pain, and his entire palm seemed to be broken, and he couldn't exert any more strength.

Zhou Ye took the opportunity to take away the photo, the man rolled on the ground, rolled into a room further inside, his clothes caught fire.

Zhou Ye wiped the photo on his hand, and saw the picture clearly in the bright firelight.

The sun shines through the leaves of the big locust tree, casting warm light on the lawn. A young and beautiful girl is wearing a big red dress and sitting on a white swing. She tilts her head and looks at the camera with a sweet smile on her face. .

A middle-aged couple stood behind the left side of the swing.

The husband was wearing a gray-blue shirt with delicate twig lotus patterns embroidered on the cuffs, and the wife combed her gentle long hair and wore a hairpin inlaid with a pearl.

The wife held her husband's arm, and leaned her head lightly on her husband's shoulder. The husband turned his head slightly and looked at his wife tenderly.

The wife's eyes fell on the boy on the right side of the swing.

The young man was slightly bent over, with his hands behind the swing, wearing a white top, with a big smile on his face, and the unruliness of a young man in his eyes.

Reminiscent of Moonshine and Spirits.

Looking at the photo, Zhou Ye never knew that when the corners of Rong Zhao's lips were bent to a certain extent, there were dimples. He had never seen his dimples, and he had never seen him so vigorous and vigorous.

After time passed, Zhou Ye saw that the boy in white got on his horse, his clothes were stained by wind and snow, and his shoes were splashed by muddy water, but he didn't care at all.Galloping across the mountains, rivers and plains, the young man stopped his horse, his long and narrow eyes were bent, and he smiled at the person: "There is wine, the strongest kind."

The brutal massacre ended all of this. Overnight, the boy became another person. He changed his white clothes into black, and he couldn't laugh anymore.

He could only recall the massacre that night over and over again in the endless solitude and darkness. The only purpose of his life was to take revenge and kill those demons with his own hands.

Zhou Ye felt as if his heart was being grabbed by a pair of ruthless hands, and he was so distressed that he couldn't breathe.

He clenched the photo tightly, his hands trembling uncontrollably, not to mention Rong Zhao, even he himself had the urge to kill.

As good as it used to be, how evil those demons are.

A burning cabinet was stolen, Zhou Ye dodged to avoid it, calmed down a bit, and went out with the photo.

Rong Zhao ran to the ancestral hall, and saw a tall figure walking out through the thick smoke, fire and burnt door frame.

The white vest on his body was scorched in a large area, turning it into a hard dark brown, the skin was covered with shining shadows, and the whole person seemed to be translucent due to the fire.

The fire was bright behind him, and the backlight made his features look deeper than usual.

Everything around him was scorched and dry by the fire, only his eyes glowed like water, softly watching the people standing in the yard.

Rong Zhao ran two steps forward, fixed his eyes on Zhou Ye, and looked him up and down.

Zhou Ye opened his mouth, took out the neatly folded photo, wiped the saliva on it, and handed it to Rong Zhao in the folded state: "Sorry, I got wet."

It was not safe to carry the photos in his pockets. His clothes had already been burned. The photos were much more fragile than the clothes and could easily be burned too.

Don't worry, hands and hearts are not safe, and if he does fall, the fire will burn through his fingers and consume the picture.

The safest thing is to protect it with your own body and flesh.

He even thought about it, if he really couldn't get out, he would swallow the photo at the last second when he lost consciousness, and the forensic doctor would cut open his stomach and take it out afterwards.

After the house was destroyed, this photo became Rong Zhao's everything.If the photo is gone, he will die forever along with the massacre, and he will never be able to live again.

What Zhou Ye was looking for and saving was never a flimsy photo, what he wanted to protect was the boy in white who was smiling in the sun.

Rong Zhao took it, hugged the photo tightly in his arms, looked up at Zhou Ye, and tremblingly said three words after a long time: "Thank you."

Thanks for bringing them back.

Zhou Ye raised his hand and rubbed the corners of Rong Zhao's eyes, helped him wipe off the overflowing tears, and said softly, "Don't cry."

Rong Zhao turned his head away, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and wiped away the last tear.

I feel a bit ashamed to cry in front of others, so I hesitate to turn my head away.

Zhou Ye hugged Rong Zhao's head, forced his face back, and stared deeply into the other's watery eyes: "Don't make my heart hurt anymore."

Rong Zhao looked at Zhou Ye again: "Have you been injured, have you been burned?"

Zhou Ye shook his head, hid his injured finger from opening the iron box behind him, smiled and said, "I'm fine."

Rong Zhao looked down at the photo in his hand, and was about to speak when Zhou Ye interrupted him.

"The fire inside was too big, and the smoke was too thick. I didn't see the picture clearly, mainly because I didn't have time to look at it. It's important to escape." Zhou Ye walked in front of Rong Zhao, raised his arms and hugged his shoulders , "It's too hot here, let's go outside and wait for the fire."

Rong Zhao walked out of the yard with Zhou Ye, and turned to look at him: "Are you really alright?"

Zhou Ye pointed to the bite mark on his arm that was still faintly bleeding, fearing that Rong Zhao could not see the tooth marks on it clearly, he raised his arm and shook it in front of his eyes: "Here, it hurts like hell, your teeth are too bad a bit."

It was Rong Zhao who was bitten out when Zhou Ye hugged him when he wanted to rush to the fire.

Rong Zhao saw the black and red patch on Zhou Ye's finger, grabbed his wrist, frowned and said, "What's wrong with your hand?"

"Don't look," Zhou Ye clenched his fingers, hid his fingertips in his palm, and said dodging, "It's nothing, just a little dust."

He struggled hard twice but failed to break free, so he gave up resisting and whispered, "It doesn't hurt, it really doesn't hurt."

Rong Zhao pushed Zhou Ye's fingers away, and saw that the pads of his thumb, index finger, and middle finger were burnt until the skin peeled off.

Ten fingers connected to heart, how could it not hurt.

Rong Zhao lowered his head and blew lightly on Zhou Ye's injured finger, raised his eyes and said, "I'll go down the mountain and take you to the hospital for bandaging."

The soft and clean wind from Rong Zhao's mouth blew away the pain from Zhou Ye's fingertips, and made him numb all over, as if he had passed through an electric current.

Zhou Ye withdrew his hand unnaturally, and said in a hoarse voice, "Don't do this."

Rong Zhao held the photo tightly, standing at the gate of the yard, watching the house collapse little by little, he didn't feel so much pain anymore, because they were in his palm, fresh, warm and smiling.

He turned around, turned his back to Zhou Ye, Luo Jin and the others, and spread out the photo in his palm.

With the help of firelight and moonlight, he finally saw clearly that his father's shirt was gray-blue, that there was a pearl hanging from his mother's hairpin, and that his sister showed four teeth when she smiled.

The last drop of tear fell in the middle of the picture, he smiled slightly, put the photo away, put it in his pocket, checked several times that it would not fall out, and then turned around.

Zhou Ye walked to Rong Zhao's side, looked in the direction of the fire, and said in a low voice, "I saw him."

Rong Zhao's expression turned cold for a moment, regardless of it, he raised his legs and was about to walk into the yard: "I'll go and catch him."

Zhou Ye grabbed Rong Zhao's wrist: "His fate is nothing more than two, one is to be burned to death, and the other is to be forced out by thick smoke and fire. We just need to wait, there is no need to risk our lives." Take it in."

"It's not worth it for that kind of person."

Being held tightly by a warm and dry palm, Rong Zhao resisted the urge to rush in and swallow that person alive, his eyes fixed on the sea of ​​flames in front of him.