My staff is inhuman

Chapter 1

On the side of the street, Zhang Yi looked at the peach-colored glass door in front of him. The word [Massage] was pasted on the door with red stickers, but the quality of the stickers was obviously not good, and the color had already begun to fade.

After confirming that the address was correct, Zhang Yi stepped forward and pushed open the glass door.

"jingle!"

A bell hung from the glass door.

In the room, a curtain divides the room into an inner room and an outer room, and the mirror hanging on the wall faces two massage chairs.

"Need a massage?"

Standing by the massage chair, the old man wearing dark sunglasses raised his head.

"Hi, my name is Zhang Yi. Zhang Shulai is my father. I received the notice of his death and I'm here to clean up his belongings."

"You are Zhang Yi?" The old man lifted up his sunglasses and carefully examined Zhang Yi's face with his left eye. "You are very similar to your father."

"Oh!"

"My surname is Zeng. Your father and I are good brothers who have lived together. You can call me Uncle Zeng."

"Hello, Uncle Zeng."

"Sit down and wait a moment."

"it is good."

Uncle Zeng put his glasses on again, walked to the censer on the table beside him, sprinkled some powder in the censer, lit the censer and put the lid back on.

Green smoke rises from the incense burner.

"Hiss... ah!!"

The man lying on the massage chair took a deep breath into the air, and lay on the chair with his eyes closed, his body began to relax.

The man's voice caught Zhang Yi's attention and looked down at the guest.

The other party looked to be in his early seventies, and his shiny head could reflect light under the light.

"Crack, crack, crack, crack..."

Uncle Zeng patted the old man's cheek lightly with his hand. He raised it high and lowered it gently, making a sound like a horseshoe.

Then, he took out a bottle of medicinal wine from the box on the side and smeared it on his palm, rubbed it repeatedly and put it on the old man's neck. After kneading for a while, he made a movement similar to locking his throat: "Lower your head."

"Hey!!"

"Hey!!"

Uncle Zeng lifted it several times in a row, but found that he couldn't lift it, so he could only turn his head and look at Zhang Yi: "Please help me."

"Help?" Zhang Yi looked at the old man and frowned slightly.

"Yes, just give him a hand."

Zhang Yi nodded, and put his hand on the old man's arm. The old man's arm was very hard, and it felt as if he was pinching it on a stone. Zhang Yi lifted it hard, but the old man remained motionless.

"Strength!!"

"it is good!!"

The old man cooperated with the movements of the two to straighten his waist as much as possible.

"Relax!"

Uncle Zeng rested his other hand on the old man's chin and twisted it hard.

"Crack!"

The three breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.

The old man twisted his neck, opened his eyes, looked at the face in the mirror in front of him, touched the face with his palm a few times, and nodded in satisfaction.

"I have suffered so much from head to toe in my whole life, but with your skill, I feel that I am worthy of my face."

"Sit more." Facing the old man's compliment, Uncle Zeng just patted him on the shoulder, turned to Zhang Yi, "Wait a minute, there are not many things, I will pack them up."

Zhang Yi nodded.

"Young man, thank you, if it weren't for you, I really wouldn't be able to get up just now."

"fine."

As Zhang Yi said, he glanced at the old man, only then did he notice that the old man was wearing a purple long gown with a mandarin jacket over it.

"Buzz..."

At this moment, Zhang Yi's phone vibrated suddenly, and he took out the phone from his pocket, it was a short message.

Seeing the above message, Zhang Yi looked a little embarrassed, this message was received once the day before yesterday.

"What, what's the matter?"

"No, my friend's father had an accident. There will be a memorial service at 11 o'clock this morning."

"Oh, I can catch up. The funeral parlor is very close to here. When you go out, turn left and go to the road to the passenger station. Just walk a few more steps."

Zhang Yi put away his phone: "I haven't contacted you for several years."

"That's no friend at all."

The old man leaned half his arm on the armrest, with his index finger and middle finger stretched out and gesticulating with his hand.

"My old friends, even if they went to other places, they kept in touch with each other every month, and got together every other year to listen to music and drink tea. People who haven't been in touch for a few years, let alone his father died , it's none of your business if he dies."

The old man said that he reached out and groped in the clothes for a while, and then took out a bag of Huazi.

After searching for a while, I couldn't find the lighter.

"Hey, that little bastard in my family is so patronizing in giving me cigarettes, but not a lighter, does little brother have a lighter?"

Zhang Yi took out the lighter from his pocket and handed it over.

The old man took the lighter: "In my whole life, I have only two hobbies, listening to music and smoking, drinking tea and singing opera."

As he spoke, he lifted his clothes, took out a pink Walkman from his waist, and pressed the play button.

A small song of Su Qu accompanied by pipa and erhu.

Listening to the ditty, the old man put the cigarette by his mouth, turned on the lighter, and the cigarette burned like paper.

But the old man didn't care, he took out a cigarette and handed it over: "One?"

Zhang Yi stared at the flaming smoke on the old man's finger, and shook his head: "I don't smoke."

"You still carry fire if you don't smoke?"

"For entertainment."

The old man nodded, took the cigarette back, and took a deep puff of the cigarette in his hand.

"Hiss... poof."

"Shu Tan, in a person's life, everything is imaginary. When he dies, how many relatives and friends can come to the funeral is real."

The old man got up, smoked a cigarette, listened to the music, walked towards the door, and couldn't help humming along with the tune: "Listen to the music, smoke a cigarette, this is life!"

"Dingling, Dingling" the door closed.

After Zhang Yi watched the old man leave, Uncle Zeng came out from behind the curtain, holding a box in his hand and putting it on the table.

On the box was a death certificate.

"Here, these are your father's things."

He pointed to this store.

"Including this shop."

"Shop?" Zhang Yi was a little surprised, he thought that Uncle Zeng was the owner of the shop.

Zhang Yi looked at the box in front of him, and reached out to pick up the death certificate. On the black and white background photo was a photo of a strange man.

"I don't want this thing, you can deal with it."

He put away the death certificate, and as for the box, Zhang Yi pushed it back.

"don't want?"

Uncle Zeng looked up at him.

"I think it's dirty!"

The year I just remembered, this guy took Xiaosan to sleep at home. After being smashed by his mother, he not only injured his mother and hospitalized him, but also abandoned their mother and child.

"I don't have any other intentions here. I just want to see this guy dead with my own eyes. You can do whatever you want with his things. Just don't bother me in the future."

"Wait a moment."

Seeing that Zhang Yi was about to leave, Uncle Zeng stopped him and took out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket.

"Whether you want these things or not, you must always leave a voucher and sign on it, so as not to embarrass me, an old blind man, in the future."

Zhang Yi took the paper, and the handwriting on it was all written with a brush, neat and elegant.

It probably means that I have already received the relic, and I must not continue to entangle in this matter in the future.

"Don't talk about the future, if there is no accident, I will never return to L City in my life."

"Who can say for sure if the guarantee is not complete. I don't feel at ease if you don't sign it."

"alright."

Zhang Yi nodded, picked up the pen on the table, wrote his name on it, put the pen down, turned around and left.

"jingle……"

Hearing the sound of closing the door, Uncle Zeng played with the piece of paper with Zhang Yi's name in his hand, stood up, and opened the curtain behind him.

Behind the curtain, there was an altar with a coffin.

Take out a long incense stick from the altar, light it and insert it in the incense burner, look at the photo of the man enshrined in the coffin,

"You're so ugly, but your son is quite handsome. Hehe, I'm afraid your wife borrowed money behind your back."

"Just kidding, it's fine if it's your son. If you're dead, your son will come on top. I don't believe it. I can't find that thing."

As he spoke, he took out a black book from the box containing the relics and placed it on the altar.

With a shake of the hand, the piece of paper signed Zhang Yi's name floated up, the ink on it dissolved and twisted, surrounding the signature left by Zhang Yi, entangled together to form a strange curse pattern.

The curse pattern flowed down like ink, pouring on the black book...

On the street, Zhang Yi walked briskly. From time to time, he could see pedestrians wearing Tang suits and Hanfu taking pictures. There are antique shops everywhere on the street. With the antique buildings in Shanghai L City as the background, it doesn’t look out of harmony. feel.

"Zhang Yi!!"

A car passed by Zhang Yi and stopped. After the window was lowered, a man wearing a cloth on his head poked his head out and waved at him.

How did we meet here?
"Crack!"

Wang Bin got out of the car and walked over excitedly: "I thought I had misjudged the person just now, but I didn't expect it to be you. I didn't expect you to come here. Thank you, thank you."

Hearing this, Zhang Yi knew that the other party had misunderstood, but he didn't explain. He just followed Wang Bin's words and said, "I ran into you just as I was about to rush over. My condolences."

"Wang Bin."

A woman in the car poked her head out of the window.

Zhang Yi had seen a woman once in his memory, and knew it was Wang Bin's mother, so he took the initiative to say, "Auntie's condolences."

Wang Bin's mother nodded numbly: "Get in the car and go together."

"it is good!"

Went to the funeral home by car with Wang Bin.

"Xiaopeng, thank you."

In fact, Wang Bin wanted to talk to Zhang Yi, but he didn't know how to speak.

"Let's talk about it later today." Zhang Yi patted him on the shoulder.

"He's got lung cancer from smoking, and you burn him back!"

The two walked to the paper burner, and Wang Bin's mother grabbed the cigarettes from her youngest son, tore them up and threw them into the trash can.

Seeing this, Wang Bin hurriedly supported his mother to leave.

After the youngest son saw his mother leave, he quietly took out a plastic bag from a nearby bush, which was full of cigarettes made out of paper, sticks of big China.

Zhang Yi walked past him, watched the cigarettes being thrown into the fire one after another, and suddenly remembered the old man's appearance when he was smoking without fire: "Don't just burn the cigarettes, remember to burn two lighters."

The youngest son was stunned, and nodded thoughtfully.

There were many guests at the funeral, but not everyone had a look of sadness on their faces.

Zhang Yi was caught in the crowd, and from time to time he could hear the parents discussing things around him, and several elderly people were also in the crowd, with sad expressions on their faces.

"Last time we agreed to go to Suzhou and listen to the authentic Xiaoxiang Night Rain."

"Now that Old Wang is gone, there will be fewer opportunities for us old fellows to get together to sing together again."

"Hmph, he left faster than me, and we old friends are the only ones left. Whoever survives to the end will be left alone."

"Fuck you, Crow's Mouth!"

At this time, there was a burst of mourning from the loudspeaker, overwhelming the gossip in my ears.

"Dong dong..."

At this time, the master of ceremonies walked onto the stage, clapped the microphone on his hand, and while checking the microphone, he also reminded everyone that the farewell ceremony had begun.

The solemn mourning, together with the master of ceremonies' eulogy, caused a burst of crying from the crowd from time to time.

Silence and ceremony.

Zhang Yi followed the crowd into the mourning hall, completing the final farewell journey.

The suona sound that was harsh in the past sounds different today.

As soon as I entered the gate of the mourning hall, I heard the displeased voice of the aunt behind me: "Die, why is there such a strong smell of cigarettes, who smokes in this place."

Zhang Yi raised his nose. There was indeed a smell of tobacco, but it was not as exaggerated as the other party said. As the team moved forward, Zhang Yi looked up and saw the photos hanging in the hall.

In the black and white photo frame, an old man smiled kindly.

Zhang Yi's face turned ugly, he turned his neck stiffly, and looked at the crystal coffin.

Familiar with the gown, he did not dare to look up, and stared straight at the hands lying flat on his chest.

Holding the pink Walkman in his left hand, the index and middle fingers of his right hand are slightly stretched, as if holding a cigarette.

The pitch of the suona in the funeral music was getting higher and higher, but the voice of the old man emerged in Zhang Yi's mind.

"Listen to music and smoke, listen to my own sorrow and joy, I want to smoke a cigarette too..."

(End of this chapter)