The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 492 Ch.491 Gift

"Honestly, miss. I've thought about suicide."

Quiet afternoon.

The two people reclined on the lounge chairs like gingerbread being baked, letting the sun shine through the dust and make their skin hot.

The aromatherapy brought by the girl filled the room with a not too strong rose fragrance.

The skin on Old Wells's body was all open, spread out like the wrinkled old dog whose owner had died in the alley, and he was comfortably enjoying the afternoon on weekdays without the trouble of children.

His emotions, which had been ups and downs for a long time, were relaxed, and he couldn't help but express his feelings.

To this young lady who came to repay her kindness, she was an upright, kind and childish girl.

He was willing to talk to her and pour out the bitter water to her.

"I thought about committing suicide."

The old man responded to the girl's disbelieving gaze, leaned on the pillow, and nodded slightly.

"Yes, Miss, I really thought about it - as a devout believer, I shouldn't have had such blasphemous thoughts: The Father of all things teaches us not to kill ourselves, otherwise we will go to the dark hell with endless flames. suffer…"

"But the human world is hard enough for me."

Old Wells smiled bitterly: "Look."

He rolled up his sleeves and showed Xander his forearms, which were almost thinner than the clothes pole: "I don't have enough to eat and I don't have enough clothes to wear. My wife abandoned me, and my friends only like to hear about my tragic past and regard me as a Just a joke at a cocktail party - I have no children, and no one can help me in times of crisis..."

The sunlight that makes all things grow cannot ignite the dying soul.

In the end, the only thing accompanying him was his shadow.

"I was sick, and every bone moved like unlubricated gears. My head was dizzy, and even walking became more and more difficult - I thought about hanging myself, or dying on the ground. Under the horses’ hooves…”

He confessed his ‘secret’.

"But I am a coward and cannot bear the long pain before death..."

Old Wells let out a long breath and looked at the vibrant girl, a blue-gray rose that was just about to bloom:

"You did hold me back. But for how long? Miss Collins, my life is too difficult and too humble. Are you going to continue to waste your time and wealth on me?"

Old Wells believed that a house might still be within the scope of 'repaying a favor'.

But repaying kindness is easy, but life is too difficult.

What should he do next?

Continue to trouble this girl who looks unmarried, make her become dishonorable, and worry about the life of an old man all day long - and then, he uses the remaining time to ruin the rest of a lady's life?

He suddenly started coughing so violently that he almost coughed his lungs out of his throat. The bones all over his body creaked, and those sharp wails traveled all the way through the thinnest wires in the flesh, sending pain into the brain.

He curled up in pain, and his chest was pulled like a bellows, squeezing out hoarse phlegm sounds again and again.

He felt that his end was approaching.

'That's fine, Wells. ’

he thought.

At least on a sunny afternoon, die in a warm and familiar place...

He shivered, but his wrist was wrapped by cold hands.

Gently.

A stream of heat flowed through his flesh, heating his fragile blood vessels.

soon.

He no longer coughs, and he no longer hurts - just like those brilliant medicines that doctors prescribed to him, in tablets or bottles of liquid, to make people feel ecstasy. Old Wells could swear that this made him more comfortable than those medicines.

He seemed to have returned to his mother's amniotic fluid, repairing the wounds on his flesh and soul, waiting to be gently pushed by love and come to the world again.

He couldn't bear it anymore and made a sound that made him feel embarrassed. The picture in front of him gradually became clearer.

The gray-haired girl was half-kneeling in front of him, holding his wrist.

Old Wells opened his eyes wide.

"You, you, you are-"

"Yes, I am a shepherd blessed by God, Mr. Wells." The girl bathed in the glow smiled with a distant smile like a god, and the resurrecting vitality shuttled through her fingertips, funneling It poured into Old Wells's wrist and spread throughout his body.

"You...you are those...people..."

It's not that Old Wells has never seen ritualists, nor has he ever been served by ritualists - but after the wealth left him, those employed ritualists also lost their wealth, wife, friends, dignity, and dignity. Away from him.

In particular, this ritualist of the Holy Cross can make people feel comfortable with the priests who have been living for a long time and the mean people who have their eyes higher than their heads. They not only have to serve the gold pound, but at the same time, they also examine the power behind the gold pound - Old Wells cannot believe that one day he will be able to enjoy such treatment again.

He stammered and looked at the girl again and again.

"You don't have to thank me, Mr. Wells. You have to thank the benefactor, our father." After she gently removed her hand, the broken heat flow made the old man feel lost, "Just like the benefactor taught you to save me, sir. I I will also repay your kindness with the eyes of the benefactor.”

Xander's eyes cannot be described as 'sincere' - Old Wells thought.

Sincerity is even blasphemous.

During these days when he was ill, he hired several powerful people who gave him "temporary comfort" - but none of them were like the girl in front of him, none of them were as selfless and kind as she was, as if they were different from walking through the glass. shine together.

It should be said.

Glow surrenders.

Surrender to her high morals.

Xander Collins.

Such a person can be called "merciful" and "sympathetic" - if she preached, old Wells would be willing to donate all his wealth.

"I have never seen a kinder person than you...child." Unconsciously, the old man changed his address, "I can't persuade you with 'this will be a big loss', it is an insult to you. Miss Cinder Collins, I admire your piety to the glory and your loyalty to the feelings between people."

Old Wells shed tears.

"It also makes me ashamed."

He said.

"'Those who don't drink will never understand the romance after being drunk', Mr. Wells. What you consider piety is only my minimum requirement for myself - please rest assured that I will accompany you and come to dispel the pain in your flesh and blood and cleanse the grayness in your soul every day."

"If you are willing to repent, I am also willing to be the wind and grass, listen to your words of awakening, witness you turn away from evil and do good, and embark on the real road of recovery."

She said something obscure like most pastors in the church, and suddenly changed the subject and turned over again, showing the liveliness of a young girl.

"But now, you have to try to stand up."

She said.

"My legs are sore."

Old Wells was stunned for a few seconds before he realized that the pain that tortured him all day long had disappeared.

"I..."

He returned to the battlefield like a fierce old soldier, sat up straight, and his eyes burst into a light that was the opposite of defeat.

Then...

The stomach made an indecent sound.

Xindel laughed: "It just so happens that I am hungry too, sir."