Painted Skin: Girl Monster Hunter

The widow felt that the beast she set had harmed the scholar, and she felt guilty, so she carried the injured scholar back to her home.

As for the abnormality of the black dog, she had long forgotten it completely.

For the first time, Widow Zhang felt that the way home from the sorghum field was so short, and she hadn't smelled enough of the books on Xiucai's body.

The scholar was tall and tall, and the widow realized that not all scholars were as weak and unruly as the nerds of the Wang family in the east of the village.

The small courtyard of the widow's house consists of two tile-roofed houses and a pigsty. She lives in the east room and the girl lives in the west room.

Without thinking about it, she helped Xiucai into her room.

"Get on the kang." The widow said softly, her face turned red up to her ears as soon as she said the words.

A widow goes home to bring a man in the middle of the night, no matter what the reason is, it is always bad news.

The scholar didn't ask much, and he didn't seem to have the kind of poor bookishness that always talks about the relationship between men and women.

He obediently sat down on the kang.

The widow was extremely ashamed. For so many years, no man had ever sat on her kang except her own dead old man.

She went to fetch water from the well in the yard, and was about to clean up Xiucai's wound, her fingers trembled when they touched the cold water.She felt itchy, as if something was about to happen.

She washed her face well with the first bucket of water brought up, and then washed her feet.

Then I fetched another bucket of water, found a few pieces of new cloth and took them back into the house.

The widow was never willing to light the oil lamp, and several times the little girl in the family was beaten by her when she lit the lamp at night.

In the mind of the widow, the oil lamps have to wait until the Chinese New Year to light them.

But tonight was slightly different. The widow felt a kind of joy that she had never felt before during the festival.

She took out the dusty oil lamp, wiped it clean with her sleeve, and blew on the red torch to light the lamp.

A handful of light slowly spread out in the simple tile house.

She turned her head, and only then did she see the scholar's face clearly.

I don't know if it was because of the pain, but the scholar's face looked very pale under the firelight, but it didn't affect his heroic spirit at all.

He frowned, with starry eyes and sharp brows, and a face like a crown of jade, he was really a rare and peerless handsome man.

Widow Zhang didn't know where to put her hands, she lowered her eyes and dared not look at him, her cheeks were hot.

She had never seen a man grow up like this.No, it's not just a man, he's even prettier than all the women she's ever seen.He looks like a person who walked off the painting.

Seeing the widow's embarrassment, the scholar said politely: "Thank you for saving me, elder sister. I can't repay you for your great kindness."

The widow bit her lower lip lightly, and said, "Young master is too polite. It was the slave's trap that killed the young master. It seems to be the slave's fault."

The scholar said again: "Xiaosheng really doesn't want to bother elder sister, but now his hands and feet are inconvenient, so he can't bandage the wound. I hope elder sister can help others to the end..."

The scholar's words hit the widow's heart, she said repeatedly: "That's natural, the young master is good to sit down and let the servant come."

The widow stepped forward, took off the scholar's boots and socks, and rolled up his obscene trousers, exposing the wound.

Unlike Zhang Laizi, Xiucai's feet did not have that pungent stench, but a faint rice scent, and his legs were straight and slender.

Widow Zhang held the scholar's foot and carefully cleaned and bandaged him.

On the surface, the waves are calm, but the deer has already been bumping in his heart.