the culprit

The next day the boy was woken up by a pair of rough shaking hands.He opened his eyes and saw a wrinkled face like a witch, he gasped in fright, subconsciously grasped the quilt with both hands to cover his head, and the skinny hands that had just left his shoulders took the clothes and motioned him to change.

The drowsiness gradually dissipated in the fright and the cold winter air, and Cyril remembered that the woman in front of him was the old maid who went out to greet him yesterday.His tensed shoulders relaxed, he crawled out of the quilt in shame, and spread his arms to let the maid change his clothes.

"Thank you...uh...what should I call you?" He put his feet into the leather shoes brought by the maid, and asked shyly while scratching his hair.

The old woman who was tying her shoelaces raised her head when she heard the words, opened her mouth and let out a few wow-wah-la-lah, and then raised her hand to make gestures a few times. Only then did the boy realize that she was a mute.While apologizing, he stretched out his little hand to the woman, saying that he could write his name on the palm of his hand.The woman shrank her body hesitantly, raised her cloudy eyes and looked at him, looking very worried.The innocent boy just stood in front of her with his hands outstretched, waiting with a cautious smile.

The thin hand finally grabbed the boy's wrist, and his fingers gently touched his tender wrist, as if worried that his rough skin would cut him.Another finger wrote four crooked letters in the boy's palm.

"M--Mary--" the boy followed the letters written by the woman, nodding slowly and pronouncing her name, "Thank you, Mary."

The woman laughed when she heard the words, the wrinkles on her face piled up, her shriveled lips grinned, revealing her incomplete teeth.She slowly put down the boy's hand, continued to tie his shoelaces, and then took him downstairs to the breakfast room.

Compared to the breakfast room at home, the room in front of me was as small as a woodshed.Cyril looked around the breakfast room of his uncle's house, and was led by the maid to sit in his own seat.Then Mary hurried away again.Even though he was very hungry, Cyril still sat on the chair cautiously and waited for his uncle's arrival.

It was almost noon, the sun shone into the breakfast room through the row of windows, and frosty patches of light fell on the light gray ground, as if a fine layer of snow had been laid there.The light made Cyril feel cold for no reason. He rubbed his arms and turned his head to look at the fireplace on the other side, which also had no fire.

After a while, Heken came in after Mary, and Cyril immediately jumped off the chair and bowed to him, saying good morning to him obediently.Heken still had the spiritless look of last night, the puffiness of his eyes hadn't subsided, and his pale skin looked more and more sick in the cold sunlight, with a grayness that worried the boy endlessly.Facing his nephew's greetings, he just nodded and raised his hand to motion for Mary to bring the breakfast.

The chef of the manor is also an old man, not as thin as Mary, with a rosy face and a strong figure.After serving breakfast to his master and the new young master, he left the breakfast room without saying a word.It was not until much later that Cyril discovered that he was also dumb.

The man and the boy ate the beans and cakes on the plate in silence, and when Heken finished eating the food on the plate, Cyril, holding the tableware, asked hesitantly: "Why doesn't Felix have breakfast with us? "

The childish voice stopped Heken who got up and was about to leave.He turned to look at the boy sitting at the other end of the table, a smile of disgust and cruelty gradually appeared on his face.This smile looked particularly terrifying against his pale complexion, but he didn't realize it, put one hand on the chair beside him, and said in a gentle tone on purpose: "Didn't the count tell you, Felix is ​​not He needs these—our blood is his food." Looking at the boy's blood-discolored face, he seemed very satisfied, and stretched out the red tip of his tongue to lick his lips, "You and I will die in his hands. "

What he said made Cyril freeze there as if struck by lightning, staring at his uncle with wide eyes in disbelief, he sobbed slightly, trying to defend himself and his father, but he could only repeat helplessly "No of".

Seeing his nephew's painful and terrified face, Hucken finally left contentedly, leaving Cyril alone in the breakfast room that was so cold that his teeth were chattering.

It's not that the boy has never heard of "slaves", he knows it all from his father.Except for the father, none of the servants in the family, even his elder brother and sister knew this.And he was the second person in that mansion to know about it.

Father had only told him—the night before he was brought here, the night before.His father, who never took the initiative to talk to him after dinner, called him to the study for the first time. He was flattered, and pushed open the door of the study with anxiety and joy under the surprised eyes of his brothers and sisters.

He saw his father pull out the family tree and spread it out in front of him. Although he was not very literate, he could barely recognize the names of his ancestors.Curiously, the boy leaned over the family tree and read out those names one by one, all the way to his generation, until the end.

He noticed something was wrong.

His name is not on the family tree.

Looking up at his father in confusion, he was about to ask, but his father took the lead and told him a story that started with "a long time ago".He said that a certain brave knight in the ancestors inadvertently signed a contract with a powerful person, and the other party swore to be a servant of the Muller family and would do anything for the Muller family until he died.

"He has incomparable strength, a knight can't wait for it," his father said in a cold tone, as if he didn't see the anxious eyes he was eager to explain, "but he has one condition, that is, he can only recognize one member of the Muller family as his master, and he only obeys his master." and his master provides him with everything he needs to survive. He is a man of immortality, and each generation of the Muller family elects a heir to be his master. He now lives in the country estate with your uncle Hucken .Cyril, I'll take you to him tomorrow."

Uncle Hucken?

Cyril, who was attracted by his father's story, didn't remember the fact that his name was not on the family tree at all, but when he heard this strange name uttered from his father's mouth, he realized that it was not on the family tree either.

"You are the next master of that servant." After saying this, the father closed the family tree and put it back on the high bookshelf.The boy stood beside his father's chair and stared blankly at the candle on the table. Knowing that he saw his father walking out of the study with his hands behind his back, he hurriedly chased after him and grabbed his sleeve.

The tall man stopped abruptly and turned around, pulled his sleeve back from his hand, and stared at him with a gloomy expression.

Father would only be kind to his elder brothers and sisters, and Cyril had long been used to this.He bit his lips sadly, and asked timidly: "Why, why are my names and Uncle Heken's names not on the family tree?"

Hearing this, his father just snorted coldly, ignored his question, and left the study, and he was soon taken back to his room by the maid who rushed over.

Before he had time to tell his brother and sister this bizarre story, he was sent to the carriage that arrived early in the morning, and drove for a long time in the wind and snow, until he arrived at this dead manor in the evening when the snow cleared and the sky cleared.

And his father never told him that the result of becoming a "master" is to die at the hands of his servants.

Fear seized Cyril's small body suddenly, and he tried to hold the knife and fork that fell on the table again with trembling hands, but failed repeatedly.Tears fell into the sterling silver plate, he suddenly jumped off the chair and rushed to the door of the mansion, running in the snow for a long time, so long that he thought he had escaped from the terrible manor, turned back anxiously, only to find that The house surrounded by ivy still stands in sight.He sniffed nervously, raised his hand to wipe away his tears indiscriminately, and tried to escape with weak steps, but the back collar of his clothes was grabbed by a hand that suddenly reached out.

The boy screamed in fright, crying and yelling "no" as he struggled on his hands and feet, trying to escape the horrific shackles.Unexpectedly, his body suddenly soared into the air, and he was suddenly carried on his shoulders like a bundle of firewood. No matter how much he was kicked and beaten, the hand holding his waist never let go.

Until he was brought back to the manor.

As soon as the hands put him back on the ground, he ran again, but he was caught back before he could take two steps.Those hands simply hugged him and lifted him up high, and carried him all the way up the stairs and into the room.

He was thrown into the bed, and rolled around awkwardly in the soft quilt twice.He raised his frightened eyes, and saw an unusually tall old man standing beside the bed, panting with his hands on his hips.The old man's face is also covered with gullies, his eyes are almost buried by wrinkles, his nose is small, but his mouth is big.He was dressed in the rough clothes of a chef, with a hat that was missing the seam, and his hands were ridiculously large.

The old man's hard-to-distinguish eyeballs rolled half a circle in his eyes that were almost too small to see. He walked over and grabbed Cyril's shoulder and pressed hard twice before leaving the room.Seeing him go, the boy who was buried under the quilt hurriedly got up and ran out the door. Unexpectedly, when he reached the stairs, he saw Mary's slightly stooped figure appearing on the stairs.

He wondered if she would let him go.

Everyone here is weird.

Why did his father send him here.

The more the boy thought about it, the more frightened he became, the sadder he became, and finally he squatted on the stairs and began to cry.

The old woman seemed to have heard the cry, looked up anxiously upstairs, and walked up to Cyril with the hem of her skirt, patted him on the back, and yelled a long series of words that he couldn't hear at all. understand the syllables.

"I want to go home... woo..." the boy whimpered, "I want to go back..."

"I want to go home?"

The sudden appearance of a human voice made Cyril stop crying for a while, and raised his head.

A man in a black cloak stood beside him.Sobbing, he raised his hand to wipe away his tears, squinted his eyes to identify it carefully, and found that it was actually Felix.

Thinking of what Uncle Heken said not long ago, he immediately tightened his body in fright, and tried his best to hold his knees tightly with his arms, as if in this way he could avoid the tragic fate.

Mary on the side also showed a surprised expression when she saw Felix.Normally, he should still be resting in the room at this time, it is impossible to appear here.She looked at the man wrapped in black in embarrassment, and at the boy who was crying pitifully, with her hands stuck in front of her body, not daring to go over to comfort him.

"What is old Jack doing? The sound of going upstairs was so loud just now." Although it sounded like a question, Felix's tone was not half curious, and his eyes were fixed on Cyril, and he did not show any expression of impatience.

Like he doesn't have any feelings at all.

Mary gestured a few times with her hands in mid-air, pointed to the outside of the room, and then pointed to Cyril in front of her, made a movement of running away, and made a movement of carrying something on her shoulders.

Felix, who roughly understood, nodded, and suddenly bent down to pick up the boy who curled up into a ball and kept crying.Cyril took a breath in horror, stared at Felix warily with teary eyes, and the man just wrapped him in the black cloak slowly.

"I want to go home?"

Cyril closed her eyes, not daring to speak, not daring to admit.

"I'll take you back."

The boy was shocked when he heard the words, and was about to open his eyes, but he heard the man say: "Don't open your eyes, or you won't be able to go back." He hesitated for a moment, and asked in a crying voice: "You, are you really Will you take me home?"

"It's coming soon."

The voice came from the man's chest, a little dull, like thunder trapped in the clouds.Cyril put her ear on the man's cold body and whispered "OK".

He closed his eyes hard, heard the sound of the wind and Felix's breathing, the hands holding the cloak gradually lost their warmth, he sneezed, and his body shook violently in Felix's arms.But from the beginning to the end, he obediently did not open his eyes.

I don't know how long it took, the hands holding him put him on the ground, and the voice said in his ears: "I'm home." He opened his eyes in surprise when he heard the words, and found that he was really standing in the earl's mansion outside.The two metal gates with spikes at the top were closed tightly. He anxiously wanted to pass between the fences, but he heard a voice shouting "Master Cyril" from afar.

is the housekeeper.

He is really back.

Cyril smiled in surprise and wanted to thank Felix, but turned around and found that there were people coming and going on the busy street, but the man in the black cloak was missing.