lethal arsenal

Chapter 21 Half Tongue
The setting sun shines in the west, a medium-sized tea house.

There were a lot of customers sitting inside, the shopkeeper invited Mr. Laishu to invite customers, and the innermost chopping board was pressed with a piece of jujube wood.

Snapped!
As soon as the sound rang, the surroundings became quieter for a moment.

"Old friends, good afternoon, everyone. The book I am talking about today happened in the Song Dynasty, during the reign of Emperor Renzong of the Fourth Emperor. The name of Emperor Renzong of the Fourth Emperor was Zhao Zhen..."

As soon as the clear and clean voice came out, it did not satisfy everyone.

"Mr. Nan, you, you have told the story eight times, isn't it the story of Hu Jiajiang? Yes, you must change it."

"That's right, Mr. Nan, we're here to cheer you on, we can't keep fooling us with old stories, can we?"

"An exciting one, there is a reward."

"That's right, if you want something exciting, don't drink tea if it's not exciting."

……

The crowd rose up and couldn't be suppressed all at once.

The shopkeeper standing next to him turned ugly in an instant.

It's not easy these days, and it's even more difficult for storytellers to rely on their mouths to get food.

When Mr. Nan heard that his parents didn't buy it, he quickly got up and saluted, "It's Xiaosheng's fault, old regular customers, don't be upset! Then let's change it to an exciting one for everyone."

After speaking, he sat down again.

cough cough.

Mr. Nan cleared his throat, hesitated for a moment, and said, "What I'm going to talk about today is neither the old story of the past, nor the legend of gods and demons. Since everyone wants to listen to exciting things, then I will talk about the recent things."

"This is not an anecdote, but it actually happened around you... Ahem, I'm very surprised."

"On our ground, an earth-shattering murder occurred."

"There is a mountain to the west of the county seat. The name of the mountain is also Wapot Mountain. The thieves of Wapot Mountain are rampant and domineering, plundering hundreds of miles around. The tourists and business travelers who come and go are frightened out of their wits."

……

In a corner of the inn, a swordsman wearing a bamboo hat with a veil hanging down, making it difficult to discern his appearance, was carefully wiping the dried blood on the knife as thin as cicada's wings.

This person quietly pricked up his ears, dressed like a quack, no one would like to sit at the same table with him.

Asked for a pot of cut tea.

The bamboo hat guest took a sip, rubbing the sharply polished edge with his fingers, a little distracted.

After hearing Mr. Nanan say: "Hey, you don't know that there is a master swordsman in the Xingmen. He wears a ghost mask. When people in the rivers and lakes meet him, he is also known as Executioner Zhang. He is ordered by the Yamen. In winter and summer, there is a ghost-headed knife that never leaves his body. He usually wraps it in a red cloth and wraps it around his back when he goes out. Once he encounters an enemy, he can draw the knife in an instant. It's a pity, tsk tsk..."

Mr. Nan shook his head and let out a sigh. These two sighs were slightly ironic, which made the hat maker subconsciously grasp the cup tightly.

Squeak, the teacup made a slight noise.

"It's a pity that although Executioner Zhang is powerful, it is difficult for a strong snake to cross the river. To the north of the crockpot mountain, there are two more heroes who don't know where to join. One of them took a big gun and picked and killed Executioner Zhang. The corpse is so miserable, tsk tsk..."

The hand holding the cup tightened even more.

"The Jade Tower, didn't it burn down yesterday?"

The audience sitting below couldn't help asking questions.

If it's anything else, it's fine, no one knows the truth of the story in the playbook.

But what Mr. Nan is talking about is what happened around him. There is a county town on the left and right, so no one can hide it from the other.

"Ha ha."

Mr. Nan chuckled lightly, but did not explain yet.

Someone from below taunted the troublemaker and yelled loudly: "You are so stupid, the Cuiyu Tower was actually burned. That means they all died inside. Yesterday, speaking of it, the magistrate seems to be... woohoo."

The person next to him was quick-eyed and covered the mouth of the person who was picking on him.

The people next to him couldn't help yelling in a low voice, "You can say that." The voice was very low, but it made everyone around feel awe-inspiring.

Family affairs, state affairs, world affairs, people are like worthless things, how can the three-inch grass people care about them?

Why don't you ask someone if you want a key?

The big guys fell silent immediately.

"Don't talk about state affairs, everyone."

Mr. Nan patted Yatang Zaomu, and said: "In short, the death of the Raksha ghost was extremely tragic. At the Cuiyu Tower, most of the charred corpses were mixed together. No one can tell who is here. If you want to be buried, you don't even know how to erect a monument?"

"As the saying goes, it's not that the raptors can't cross the river, but the Rakshasa's ghost skills are not as good as human beings. They have chopped off a lot of heads over the years, and their morality has been damaged. It's time to report it..."

click!
A crisp voice came to the ears of the fascinated sitting guest.

The ceramic cup was crushed raw.

The warm tea splashed on the hands of the bamboo hat guest, and the broken tiles stuck in the delicate palm, creating an unclear bloodstain, and the blood mixed with the tea dripped down.

Do not know why!
This inconspicuous corner seemed to have magical powers, and the shopkeeper of the bamboo hat guest was the first to notice. His face was flushed, like a big rooster with its neck stuck.

The listeners who turned their heads when they heard the noise around them were thrown off their feet.

Several fell directly from the stool.

When Mr. Nan heard the sound, he also stood up quickly and looked forward.

Sisi!

He couldn't help but gasped, feeling chills in his heart.

The people around spread out to both sides like a tide.

The speed of dispersion is extremely fast, for fear of accidentally splashing blood all over.

The bamboo hat hat standing in the center lifted his hat, and what he was surprised to see was a face of a Raksha ghost.

"Raksha ghost? Friend, are you talking about me?"

The hat guest has an indistinguishable voice, braids wrapped around his neck, and he is dressed in a black suit with a large loose cloak, making it impossible to see the specific figure. His two slender legs are hidden in the hat, and his left and right hands are holding a long and a short thin knife with a strange shape.

Mr. Nan suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

He looked left and right, and a large area was vacant.

Some of the audience in the dark showed gloating expressions.

"This uncle in Xingmen, I was wrong. I shouldn't be discussing people behind their backs. Please let me go."

Mr. Nan bowed abruptly, begging for mercy, his knees softened, and he was about to kneel down.

The Rakshasa ghost walked towards him without slowing down.

"In the art of storytelling, each family has its own rules. There are two rules in my family-the first is not to talk about things about living people!"

"Secondly, don't touch anything that happened only a few days ago! I, Nan Guangsheng, violated the taboo of my ancestors today. I should be punished. I should be punished with death. I beg you to lend me a knife. I will definitely give you an explanation!"

Nan Guangsheng begged softly.

Whoosh!
The bamboo hat guest raised his wrist, with a strange shape, and the petal-like hibiscus knife swirled and flew out.

Ding a sound.

It landed on the floor between Nan Guangsheng's legs, and the knife was inserted into it, more than an inch deep.

The Raksha ghost stared at him with interest, as if wanting to see what he could do.

"Misfortune comes from the mouth, as the old saying goes, sincerity does not lie to me."

Nan Guangsheng pulled out the Furong knife, he swallowed his saliva, his heart froze, he stuck out his tongue, but his hands were trembling, the knife was getting closer and closer to his tongue, but he couldn't cut it.

"Why, you don't want to?"

"If you don't want to, then I'll help you."

With a flick of the bamboo hat guest's right hand, another hibiscus knife rushed past, the blade whirled, rubbed against the air, and made a sound of wind.

Ah!
With a scream, half of his bloody tongue fell to the ground.

Nan Guang covered his mouth with life and death, and the blood gushed out continuously. He fell to the ground, his body twisted and twisted like a long insect, and life was worse than death for a while.

Those who watched the theater, with sweat on their foreheads, turned their heads away.

"Hey."

The shopkeeper sighed, hesitating whether to report to the officials, when he looked up, the Raksha ghost disappeared in the hall, disappeared without a trace.

(End of this chapter)