I warmed his cold blood

The two hugged each other like this, and Herron could hear Lucas's heartbeat, which was very slow and powerful.He turned his head slowly, smelling the salty sea and wine smell that Lucas brought back from the sea, rubbed his chest back and forth with the side of his face, as if slowly blending into his solid and strong body like a shuttle drilling sand .

Lucas gently stroked his back, patted him a few times from time to time, comforting him personally, very caring.

Their posture is more that of weather-beaten adults coaxing innocent children than newly committed lovers.

Herron loosened his clothes, his breathing gradually calmed down, his tensed shoulders eased, and his back softened.The panic caused by being unable to control Lucas was slowly dispelled by his comfort.

Lucas felt Herron loosen in his arms.He knew that Herron had been appeased.

He considered his words and said cautiously: "Have you ever considered... Seneca was not stolen by Gattuso's political enemies?"

Helen froze, and pushed his chest to get up: "Are you referring to Brutus?"

"Yeah." Lucas nodded. "After all, he might know that you went to Capua. You know, Felitina will reveal your whereabouts."

"It's impossible." Helen thought for a while, "I only told my mother that I was going to Capua, but I didn't tell my mother that I was going to live in Mount Apega, and Seneca was kidnapped on the mountain. Rather than suspecting the impoverished Brutus, it is better to suspect the more capable Daho. Besides, if Brutus had Seneca in his hands, he would have threatened me a long time ago, and it is impossible to wait until now."

Lucas pondered for a while, "Daho, the political enemy of Sir Claudius? The judge?"

Herron nodded and said, "For that trip, Gattuso asked the Senate for a four-day vacation. His whereabouts are no secret to his well-connected colleagues who want to know more about him."

"So, it is even easier for a nobleman with a lot of wealth and connections to hide a child who can't even speak. But..."

Lucas continued: "If Seneca really falls into Dahou's hands, there is still a glimmer of hope. At least, he will not be trafficked and starved to death. He is the most powerful bargaining chip in the political game."

Herron admitted: "Seneca has been missing for a month, but the court has not made any progress, and Daho is also the judge responsible for collecting evidence. From this point of view, he is the most suspect."

"But these are just our conjectures. We have no convincing evidence to bring the real murderer to justice." Lucas said heavily.

Heron sighed: "Yes...but where will Seneca be hidden..."

……

Since sending the love letter, Brutus has been waiting to hear back.

He was restless, his nails were bitten unevenly, and he took a long time to fall asleep every night.He has not had a peaceful sleep for a long time; in a vague dream, he got the red ring as he wished, captured Polio, and poisoned Harun.He got it all.

But dreams are to be torn apart by reality.

Every time I wake up, it is another day of despair and exhaustion.

He still had to endure Gnaia's abuse, he had to take care of the baby according to Daho's instructions, and he had to bear the devil's call in the deserted house, and he had no money to buy herbs for doctors when he was sick.The mother and son are used to living a luxurious life, and the meager income from setting up a stall cannot satisfy them.

Brutus asked Daho for help, but Daho didn't dare to show it.He was afraid of Silan, and the money he transferred to his younger brother was only a few pennies.

After all, he believed in the supremacy of power.For him, brotherly blood is a loosely tied knot, a bit of a symbolic deterrent, but it can be untied with a little effort.

The cold and gloomy house seems to have a huge crow black feather floating heavily on the roof of the house, covering all things that can be called positive warmth, like an ugly old witch on her deathbed.

Brutus boiled a pot of boiling water, mixed it with cold water, and scrubbed Seneca's dirty clothes irritably. After washing, he hung them casually on the broken poles in the atrium.He picked up Seneca who was crying from hunger, fed him some milk, and patted his back for fear that he would choke on the milk.

His actions are definitely not gentle care, but just to prolong the life of the child.

His elder brother wants to use the baby to restrain Gattuso, and he will use the baby to restrain Polio; the two brothers have their own little calculations, but drink the same dirty water in the same gutter.

Gnaia no longer weaves.

She pinned all her hopes on the red ring, as if her soul was tied to the burned ring.

The strong obsession made her sometimes sober and sometimes crazy.She is a woman driven mad by love.

The phantom of Pliny always appeared in front of her eyes, with her usual frosty temperament, like snow on a steep cliff.She is very aware that it is an illusion, but she is willing to sink into it.

These days, she doesn't eat much and has less time to scold her adopted son.

In a way, she became quieter.

Most of the time she is trapped in self-made fantasies.The difference is that her madness is expressed in a strange tranquility; it seems that the hungry beast in her heart is fed by fantasy, and she no longer acts as a domineering beast.

She went to the atrium and took out a small silver chest from the dilapidated shrine.When it was opened, there was a set of silver cutlery and a rag of black cloth.

Red nails flick the black-stained knife, fork and wine glass.It's an outdated model from 20 years ago, and Pliny used it when she attended her husband's funeral.

Gnaia took out the wine glass, kissed the rim of the wine glass, and kissed while turning.

She picked up the black cloth again, brought it to the tip of her nose and smelled it, put it on her left cheek, and rubbed it coquettishly.

she cried.

At first it was just a low sob, never louder than the sound of snowflakes falling on the ground; gradually, it became a wavy repeated sob; finally, it became shrill and shrill, as if it could stir up huge waves.

Her cries rang in every direction, calling Brutus like a bell to the courtyard.

Her red cloak was embedded in the dark atrium, like a smear of blood in the underworld.

Brutus put his arms around her trembling shoulders, "Mother..." He was extremely sad, "Pliny is dead! He is dead!"

Gnaia ignored him, holding the silver box and crying, "My Pliny... Please take a look at me... Please... I have paid more for you than Fanny!"

Brutus was nearly collapsed by her obsession.He has been burdened too much, and has been depressed for a long time, and he already wants to cry but has no tears.

He slumped on the ground, staring blankly at the gray sky; after a long time, when Gnaia's emotions calmed down, he tremblingly helped her into the room.

Gnaia lay down on her side, mumbled something in her mouth, pulled her hair, looked crazy, laughed and cried from time to time.

The light in the room was dim, and the air was like the smell of sour fermentation in the sewer, just stuck in the air, and it didn't flow for a long time.Feeling suffocated, Brutus left the house and walked into the cool atrium.

There was a ringing bell at the door.This means someone is visiting.

Brutus was overjoyed instantly, his whole body was shaking with excitement, and his back was numb.A hot current brought by ecstasy rose up in his body, and the stagnant blood immediately flowed at a radical speed.He stomped the ground uncontrollably, his limbs swayed nervously a few times, and he clenched his hands into fists against his mouth, extruding a sinister "giggle" laugh from the depths of his throat, like the last gasp of a dying person.

He collected himself, walked over tremblingly, and opened the door with a mixture of fear and expectation.

He was stunned, as if cement was submerged from his feet to his head, his whole body was solidified like a statue, and it would break into pieces with a slight push.

Standing at the door was a burly man with a ferocious long scar on his forehead, wearing a crudely made cloak, with a rough and reckless aura.Only cloudy eyes showed that he was quite tired.

"Levi..." Brutus murmured, "Did Lord Antony ask you to come?"

Levi nodded and handed him the money bag, "The master asked me to give it to you. He said it was compensation for taking care of your baby. He will come over tonight and ask you to clean up the yard, a little messy None."

Brutus took the money in a daze, and asked, "Did he say anything else? Did he promise to give me a little more money... You know, my life is very difficult..."

"No." Levi shook his head. "The master also has his difficulties. Mrs. Slan controls him very strictly. He hopes you can understand."

Brutus half-closed his eyes in disappointment, leaning on the door frame, his frail body swaying.

He swallowed his saliva, and asked nervously: "You are the adult's confidant, you should know the situation of Claudius recently..."

He paused and exhaled: "You know... how is Mrs. Fanny? It's Claudius' aunt?"

Levi glanced at him strangely, but still replied: "She died not long ago, but it seems that there was no funeral."

Brutus hurriedly asked: "What about his slave girl? The black slave girl?"

"I heard that she went to another province, but I don't know the details." Levi said.

Brutus froze for a moment, then was overwhelmed by shock.His facial features were distorted into a ball, his face was completely devoid of blood, the blood seemed to freeze, his hair stood upside down, and black mist appeared in front of his eyes.It seemed that all the pictures and sounds were messed up and poured into my mind.

At this moment, his soul seemed to be condensed into a sharp object, rubbing against his flesh fiercely, and invisible pain came from all directions.

Levi gave him a puzzled look, and drove away in the carriage.

Brutus was in a daze, for a while his eyes could not see clearly, it was all black, mixed with gold stars.

He turned around stiffly, groping for the erected bamboo poles, and walked forward step by step.

Finally, he lost his balance and fell to the ground.

He knew he was screwed.

Not only that, but the only woman who loved him also abandoned him.

The mournful cry of a crow rang in his ears, and soon disappeared into a buzzing tinnitus.He looked forward, his eyes were like two scarred withered vines, shooting dryly into the house.

There was Gnaia, whom he loved and feared.

He walked slowly and stood at the door of the house.

Gnaia's bedroom was unlit.She raised her eyes slowly, her eyes were full of darkness, only a small piece of gray sky filled the door frame, and a thin black shadow was embedded there.

Thus, Brutus is like the shadow monster in a nursery rhyme, changing size at will, and everything covered by the shadow will be destroyed.

"Pliny?" she said with joy, "you are here at last."

Brutus, in a trance, entered the room and lit a candle.

"It's me... Mother, I'm your Brutus..."

The candlelight illuminated Gnaia's messy hair and the black gemstone on her forehead.

She imitated an obsidian and hung it on her head.

Her complexion was very bad, her greasy long hair was in a mess, and her eyes were full of madness, like a sinister old witch.

"Why are you?" She was a little annoyed, "You bastard, I was really cursed by the devil to adopt you! Get out of here!"

Brutus was so angry that he swayed a few times, knelt down beside her bed with a thud, grabbed her hand and said:

"Mother...we don't want Polio anymore...I will make good money and give you a comfortable life. We still have such a big house and a chance to rise..."

Gnaia went crazy, slapped him, sat up as if struck by lightning, and kicked him with her feet.

"Asshole! Asshole...it's not your turn to speak...you incompetent thing..."

Brutus' mouth was kicked violently by her, collided with teeth, and a stream of blood flowed out.His lips were numb with pain, and he quickly grabbed her hand.

Gnaia withdrew her hand and scratched his face with her red nails.Her strength was neither light nor heavy, and she showed no mercy to her adopted son.Soon, Brutus's face was scratched with deep blood marks, and there was also human flesh between her nails.

Eventually, she lifted her foot and kicked him hard in the ribs.Brutus was thrown to the ground, clutching his stomach in pain, unable to get up for a long time.

Rather than saying that she is punishing her adopted son for "speaking poorly", it is better to say that she is venting the pain that has been pent up for a long time.

Brutus' stomach writhed and he spat out a stream of sour water.He was in tears and his face was filthy.He groaned a few times in pain, kicked his legs weakly a few times, then froze on the ground like a bug that had been frozen to death, and fell into silence.

Gnaia's cursing voice came and went, and he just listened.

Suddenly, he trembled all over, and laughed lowly, like a devil moaning from an abyss; gradually, he stepped up a step, and suddenly became sharp, like a strange bird whizzing by in a deep cold valley Howl.

He seemed to be possessed by some kind of monster, laughing wildly, clutching his stomach and rolling, like a clown trying to please the public.

Gnaia stopped cursing and looked at him faintly.

"Mother...you know..." he said with a smile, "you never smiled at me..."

There was a cry in his voice, but a distorted smile on his face, "What did I do wrong... just because my life is in danger... are you all going to abandon me..."

He sat up, put away his smile, and faced Gnaia.

Half of his body was placed in the candlelight, and his face was black and white by the candlelight.The disheveled black hair covered half of his eyes, his sunken bulbous nose glistened with oil, his chin was unshaven, and his lips were tightly closed tremblingly.

His eyes looked at Gnaia through the hair, vaguely, and a long-lost light appeared in his pupils, as if emerging from the soul, at the cost of burning the last bit of hope.

His face was serious, his throat trembled, and he seemed to have put all his energy into the words he was about to say.

"Mother... let me ask you a question..." he said tremblingly, "do you regret adopting me?"

Gnaia froze for a moment, laughed loudly, and said darkly:

"Regret!" she blurted out, "The thing I regret the most is adopting you! My current life is better than death because of you, the broom star!"

Brutus endured the soreness in his heart, and asked again nervously: "I'll just ask you a question...do you regret adopting me?"

Gnaia glanced at him strangely, and said impatiently: "I said it, I regret it! If you ask me again, I still have the same answer!"

Brutus was not reconciled, "Mother...you regret adopting..."

Before he finished asking, Gnaiya picked up the scissors on the table and threw them at him, "Are you fucking deaf? I said I regret it! I regret it! I regret it..."

She kicked her legs up on the bed and repeated it loudly, crying out regrets and crying, her voice was shrill and ugly, like a complete shrew.

At this moment, black mist gathered in front of Brutus' eyes, as well as in his brain.He picked up the scissors slowly, expressionless, like a puppet that can only move.

With a muffled voice, he walked quickly towards Gnaia.He walked faster and faster, and finally almost jumped in front of the bed, raised the scissors high, and stabbed Gnaia hard.

He couldn't hear his adoptive mother's screams, and blood sprayed all over him.He just mechanically repeated the stabbing action, no matter where it was, and grinned.

But in reality, he could see and hear nothing.He's just being manipulated by evil instincts...

After a long time, his arms felt sore, and the black fog in front of his eyes gradually dissipated.Only then did he realize that he was sweating profusely, and his heartbeat was as violent as a heavy hammer hitting iron.

He wiped his blood-smeared eyes, opened them slowly, and saw a shocking scene.

Gnaia had already died, her body was covered with blood holes, and blood was gurgling.Mattresses, walls, and curtains were all stained blood red.Her eyes were wide open, without the slightest light in her eyes, her face was ferocious and frightened, her hands were twisted upwards, her legs were curled up strangely, and she was lying in a pool of blood.

Brutus was stunned, his blood-stained hands lost strength, and the scissors fell to the ground with a snap.

He was stunned for a long time, and then traced the side of her lips with the blood from his finger, drawing a weird and terrifying upturned lip shape, as if she was smiling.

He bent down, trembling, and kissed her lips lightly...