All living beings in hell

Chapter 56 - "I Killed My Lover"

The lotus lantern at the door lit up, and the office welcomed No. 30, No. [-] customer.

"Ah! Yah!" Several exclamations of indistinguishable gender came from the door, "What kind of broken door is this? It stabbed me to death!"

I raised my eyebrows when I heard the sound, maybe the wooden door should really be changed: "Please come in."

"My lord, you broke the door, look, you pricked my fingers!" A young woman dressed as a medieval European lady twisted her fluffy and gorgeous skirt under her waist, and walked away with her hips twisted Come in.

While walking, he complained: "And your office, it's a bit too shabby, and you don't grow any flowers and plants, and it has no interest at all."

I poured a cup of bitter tea and waited patiently for the guest to continue to complain.

The guests complained from the messy bookshelves to the creaking floor, and finally said that they were sweating.She took out a white orchid handkerchief from her chest, and wiped the sweat from her temples and neck.Just when I was about to ask her name, she actually started to complain that it was too hot in the office: "My lord, why do you have such a big official staying in such a small place!"

"What should I call you?"

"Mariana Joster. My lord, please call me Mrs. Joster. I like to be called by my last name."

"Good Mrs. Jost," I wrote down her name on the rice paper, "what is the purpose of calling me today?"

"I want to have a good reaction with you. In this hell, it's so hot in summer that we can't wear any skirts. It's really difficult for us."

"There are no four seasons in hell, how can summer come?"

"It's summer now, my dear writing lord, have you come to hell not long ago? I have lived in hell for a while. There is not only summer in this hell, but also winter. The change of seasons comes with the world."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

Mrs. Jost took out a delicate fan from her chest again, and fanned herself.I stared at her breasts with some surprise, not knowing what to get out of it next.Sure enough, while fanning the fan, Mrs. Jost took out a silver wine bottle from her nipples, opened the lid, and took a sip while pouting.

"It's so hot, it would be nice if there were ice cubes. But there's no ice cubes in this bloody hell. Would you mind if I have a drink, my lord?"

"Please feel free. I still don't quite understand what you said. The seasons in hell change with the changes in the world. What exactly do you mean?"

"My lord, do you know anything about business?"

"I knew something before I was alive."

Mrs. Jost put down the wine bottle, and took out another slender cigarette from her chest. She was about to light it, but was interrupted by me: "I'm sorry Mrs. Jost, smoking is not allowed here."

"You can drink, but you can't smoke?"

"Exactly."

"Hmph, what a broken rule," Mrs. Jost stuffed the cigarette back into her nipples dissatisfied, "Let's put it this way, the season of hell is related to how many souls in the world come to hell. If there is a period of time to come to hell There are so many souls, we call it the 'peak season', and the temperature in hell will also rise, just like now, it is as hot as midsummer. If there are fewer souls coming to hell for a period of time, it is the 'off season', cold It's like winter, and even the sea of ​​blood will form thin ice."

"It seems that it has been the peak season recently, and I haven't felt any changes in temperature."

"Your world has not been peaceful for the past two years, isn't it? The temperature in hell keeps rising. I think if this continues, the sea of ​​blood will boil." Mrs. Jost took another sip of wine, "The sea of ​​blood last time The boiling was still in the period when I first came here. Oh, it was terrible. The whole sea was steaming like magma, and the ghosts on the shore were swept into the sea. Look at the bone dregs on the bone beach, probably left over from that time. It's too tragic, too tragic."

Madam Joost shook her head as she spoke.

"Then when did you come to this hell?"

Mrs. Jost took out the cigarette from her chest again: "My lord, I won't light the head office. I won't even speak if I don't smoke anything."

"Um fine."

Mrs. Joost held the cigarette between her fingers, pretended to light the tobacco, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and dusted off the ashes.

"I'm the daughter of a southern manor, the Civil War, you know that?"

"know."

Mrs. Jost's lips moved, and her eyes suddenly turned red: "My lord, do you still have any stronger wine? The whiskey in my bottle has been around for hundreds of years, and it has long been as watery as water."

"Yes, yes." I turned around, took out the cloud wine and ceramic bowl, and poured wine for Mrs. Jost.

Mrs. Jost took a sip, coughed again and again from choking, coughed up tears, but smiled on her face: "Hahaha, this is wine! (That's what I called alcohol!)"

"Tell me, what happened then?"

Mrs. Jost put the unlit cigarette to her lips and took a deep breath: "I fell in love with a black slave under my father, you know that at that time, it was undoubtedly a capital offense for that boy. "

"and then?"

"I love him, I love him very much. Every night I sneak out of the bedroom to meet him secretly. We are in the wheat field, in the barn, under the cover of a big tree..." Mrs. Jost took another sip Drinking, coughing, "It was a crazy day, probably the best day of my life."

"What happened next?"

"My father has arranged a marriage contract for me a long time ago, but I don't like that boy. A rich man with red hair who looks like he has no brains. I have seen this kind of boy a lot. I am not interested in you, but He will listen to the arrangements of his family. After getting married, he doesn’t care about the family, he will only fool around in brothels with his father’s money, that’s the kind of man he is.”

"and then?"

Mrs. Jost sniffed: "I'm pregnant. I know I can't give birth to this child, because this child belongs to that slave. If we give birth to a mixed-race baby, we will all die," Jost said. Madam took out the handkerchief that was used to wipe sweat from her chest again, and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, "When we were young, we always did some stupid things, didn't we?"

I didn't answer, and refilled her ceramic bowl with wine.Mrs. Joost took a big gulp and didn't cough this time.

"I was scared, scared. I thought a lot about me and him, about my future, his future... I did one of the things I regret most in my life..."

"what have you done?"

Tears welled up in Mrs. Joost's eyes. She drained the wine in the pottery bowl, her fingers holding the cigarette kept trembling: "Damn it, Mr. Writer, just let me light this cigarette."

"It really doesn't work." I replied helplessly.

"You damn rules, even ghosts can't smoke."

"There are many places outside the office where you can smoke. When we are over, you want to smoke a few cigarettes after you go out."

Mrs. Jost took a deep breath on the unburned cigarette, and managed to calm down: "Dead wood." She scolded me.

"So what did you do?" I refilled her clay bowl.

"I spoke to my father."

"What did you say?"

“I… I… lied.”

"what did you say?"

Mrs. Jost drank several mouthfuls of wine, making a gurgling sound in her throat.She finished the bowl again, and put the thin cigarette back into her mouth: "I said, that boy raped me. I was pregnant with his child."

"and then?"

"I arranged for the boy to run away before I told my father. I'd heard about the Civil War by then, and it was coming to us soon. I knew he'd be free soon, if he got away, He will be free. Then even if I give birth to the child and raise him alone, it doesn't matter. I just want him to be free. Alas...but he didn't go. He stayed. He stayed for me. .And I just killed him..."

I didn't answer, just poured wine.

"My father hanged him from a giant fig tree, just like he hanged other slaves... I regret it, I regret it..."

"Joster is his name?" I asked.

Mrs. Jost was stunned, looked at me, and then smiled gratifiedly: "Yes, Jost, the love of my life, I killed him with my own hands."

"Then, how did you come to this hell?"

"I committed suicide by jumping into the river with the child we both had in my stomach. When I woke up, I was washed up on the beach of bones. The sea of ​​blood was boiling, and I saw the washed up stumps beside me With a broken arm, I want to find Jost... I've been looking for it for so many years, so many years have passed... He doesn't seem to be in this hell."

"After so many years, he may have returned to the human world. Have you ever thought about returning to the human world?"

"Human world?" Mrs. Jost smiled, "No, no, my lord, I would rather stay in hell than go back to that wretched place."

"why?"

"I just don't want to go, I don't want to go."

"Yes." I put down the sapphire pen, "It's almost time today, thank you for sharing this story with me."

"My lord, ask me a question."

"Well, please."

"If you met the love of your life and encountered a situation like mine, what would you do?"

"I don't know, I rarely assume that I have lived a life that has not happened, let alone my life is already in the past tense."

"My lord, will you lie like me?"

"will not."

"You never lie?"

"It's not that I never lie. This has nothing to do with whether the lie is the truth itself. I will not completely shift the responsibility that should be on both sides to the other party, let alone Jost's situation at the time involved life and death."

"So you think I did something wrong?"

"If you did it all over again, would you make the same choice?"

"Maybe... maybe I will... what a coward I am... I will."

"why?"

"Because I'm too scared, too scared."

"Well, since everything has been done, this is the only way to go."

Mrs. Jost looked a little depressed: "Yes, the force majeure of reality is more terrifying than everything else."

"Even if the reality is irresistible, there are many other creative solutions. All people living in this world are bearing the pull of gravity, and now in hell, the same is true."

"What is a creative solution?"

"I can't tell you this. The world is too random. I don't want my thoughts to be limited to you."

"I don't like randomness, so I don't like the world."

"Then continue to stay in hell, everything here changes very slowly, very slowly, very slowly."

"Well, it hasn't changed. This is what I like." Mrs. Jost stood up, "I'm a little drunk, my lord, your wine is very enjoyable."

"You're welcome, hope you're having fun in hell."

Mrs. Jost walked slowly towards the door: "I will, my lord, I will play, very happy. Very very, very happy."

I watched Mrs. Joost slowly close the door, and the office returned to silence.

Her thin cigarette was left on the table, and the unlit cigarette crumpled into a crooked ball.I picked up the cigarette and sniffed it close to my nose. I didn't know what was mixed in the cigarette. A pungent smell rushed to the top of my head with a sense of dizziness.

I went to the bookshelf and took out the "History of the Civil War" under my arm.Open the floor-to-ceiling windows, the wind from the sea of ​​blood blows on the face, it is indeed much warmer than before.

I sat by the window with the book under my hip.

The waves of blood are so loud, are the souls that died during the war still rolling in it?
(End of this chapter)