MTL - He Became a Salted Fish After Inheriting Millions of Secret Arts-Chapter 27 Victory join forces!

In an instant, all the noisy voices on the train disappeared, and he could only hear his crazy heartbeat and buzzing tinnitus.

If there is a God, then He must be keen to tease mortals. There are countless trains departing from London in one day, but he happened to take the same train with these two night policemen.

There's never been such a coincidence in the world, has it? Z and Xenophon appeared here in broad daylight on weekdays. They definitely didn't intend to go on vacation. They only went to do one thing, and that was their job—hunting mystics.

Have they discovered his identity? Or were they following Yeats?

"Mr. Chester, why don't you introduce your two friends?" Yeats' calm voice called Duan Feizhu's soul back to his body.

Duan Feizhuo wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. Ever since meeting Z and the others, his handkerchief has always been consumed very quickly.

Thinking about it carefully, it is unlikely that they came chasing him. If they had already learned that he was the owner of the trading house, they would definitely rush into his house and arrest him instead of going to a crowded place like the train station, because that would not only easily injure people by mistake, but also make him escape easily. Therefore, they either came to test him, or they happened to be on the same road.

"Uh, ah, yes..." Duan Feizhuo stammered, "These two gentlemen are Detective Xenophon Throfit and Detective Zeno Sinia, both of the Metropolitan Police Department Elite."

Yeats immediately sat up straight, as if something was stabbing his back in the armchair. He asked Duan Feizhuo with his eyes if he was "that kind of" police detective?

Duan Fei nodded calmly and was "that kind of" police detective.

Yeats is worthy of being a future Nobel Prize winner and a mystic who has seen big scenes. He politely shook hands with the two night policemen, and said to Duan Feizhuo with a smile, "You really have a lot of friends, you even know the detectives of Scotland Yard."

Duan Feizhuo tried his best to keep his face sullen, "This...I was kidnapped by gangsters once, and these two police detectives rescued me at that time."

Xenophon narrowed his eyes, "Is this your friend?"

"Uh, this is Alfred, the servant I hired," Duan Feizhu asked Ai Ai, "and this gentleman is...is..."

His throat seemed to be blocked by something. How should he introduce Yeats? Say he is a poet? But how would he explain why he was with the poet?

It was Yeats, who was surprisingly calm, who saved him.

He got up and took out a business card from his pocket, and handed it to Xenophon with both hands, "Your Majesty, William Butler Yeats, is a poor poet."

What happened next made Duan Feizhu admire Al's acting skills from the bottom of his heart.

Al opened his mouth exaggeratedly and tugged on Z's sleeve, as if there were little stars twinkling in his eyes. He said in a strangely coquettish tone: "Mr. Detective, do you know Sherlock Holmes? Do you often handle cases with Holmes? Are all the stories written by Dr. Watson true?"

"Uh..." Z looked hesitant, as if looking for a way to escape.

Xenophon patted him on the back, "Why don't you sit with the newcomer? I'll find a seat at the back."

Z showed a horrified expression, "If you dare to abandon me—"

Of course Xenophon dared. He floated away with the suitcase, leaving Z standing alone.

He really wanted to follow his subordinates, but there were more and more passengers in the car, and the surrounding seats were filled, and people kept pushing in, bumping him away in dissatisfaction, shouting "Let's go" or " Don't get in the way here." Z reluctantly sat down on the empty seat next to Duan Feizhuo.

Al continued to add fuel to the fire, "Mr. Detective, what other cases has Holmes solved? There are many cases that Dr. Watson has not written, but you must know, right?"

His voice was high-pitched like a hopping magpie, and he kicked and kicked his legs under the small table, hitting Z's calf accurately every time.

The train started, and with the whistling whistle, the platform receded to the rear.

"There is no Sherlock Holmes in the world!" Z said coldly, "That's all fiction—"

"Oh, of course," interrupted Yeats. "He's a great detective. Children adore Holmes and look upon him as a hero. Don't you, Mr. Inspector?"

The implication is to let Z not puncture the child's innocent fantasy.

Z gripped the corner of the small table tightly, almost crushing it.

"Yes." He gritted his teeth. "Holmes is a great detective."

Al continued to jump, "Do you know Detective Lestrade! He always takes the credit from Holmes, it's really hateful!"

Z "Not familiar with him."

Al "Mr. Detective, can you get his autograph for me?"

Z "I'll ask Lestrade when I go back."

Al "No! It's Holmes's! Who wants Lestrade's autograph!"

Z "Lestrade was very sad to hear that."

Next, Al began to express various opinions on the Holmes series of novels, and asked Z for opinions (or forced Z to agree with his opinions). Z replied perfunctorily.

He hasn't broken Al's neck yet, Duan Feizhu couldn't help but admire his perseverance. If it was him, he might have jumped out of the car window in two minutes.

When dealing with Al's time, Z did not forget to inquire about Yeats' situation, which shows that he is well-trained as a night policeman.

"Where are you going with this Mr. Yeats?"

"Shropshire." Duan Feizhuo replied.

"Oh? Where are you going?" Z asked again.

Duan Feizhuo looked at Yeats and asked for help with his eyes.

Yeats replied calmly, "I plan to go to the countryside to gather scenery, so I invited Mr. Chester to go with me. I met him by chance in a bookstore and had a good conversation. I think two friends traveling together are much happier than alone. "

Z raised his eyebrows, "You met new friends so quickly? Or new friends who can travel together?"

Yeats smiled, "There is a saying in the East called 'A white head is like a new one, and the cover is as old as before', which means that the depth of friendship between people has nothing to do with the time of acquaintance. Some people have known each other for many years, but they still look like strangers. People don’t know each other at all. Some people meet for the first time and it’s like they’ve known each other their whole life.”

Z frowned, as if displeased with Yeats' statement.

Because of the disregard, Al jumped on the seat, jumping up and down on the seat cushion like a trampoline "Let's play a game! I'll be Sherlock Holmes, you'll be Dr. Watson! Now let's catch the bad guys! Let me see who's the murderer" murderer!"

Passengers around cast angry and contemptuous glances, hissed, and some even got up to call the flight attendant. Z already regretted chatting with them, and now the other passengers thought they were fellow travelers, and regarded him as an accomplice who indulged the brat.

So, as soon as the train reached the next station and some passengers got off, he couldn't wait to make an excuse to sit with Xenophon, and walked to another carriage without looking back.

After he left, Duan Feizhuo let out a long sigh of relief.

"Nice job, Al. I didn't know you were such a good actor."

After being praised by his master, Al showed a shy smile, "This is one of the few advantages of being a child."

Yeats took out the newspaper he hadn't finished reading at the station, shook it open gently, put on his glasses, and covered his mouth with the newspaper.

"Mr. Chester, are you a student of that detective?"

Duan Feizhuo got a splitting headache when he mentioned this.

"That happened for a reason... Before I inherited the secret trading house, I agreed to join Scotland Yard by accident..."

Yeats was astonished, "As the owner of the secret trading house and the most wanted criminal of the night police, you actually sneaked into Scotland Yard?"

He watched Duan Feizhuo's eyes gradually change from panic to respect, "I see, you are undercover there, right? You pretend to be an ordinary person who doesn't understand the mystical philosophy, penetrate into them, and look for their weaknesses..."

It can only be said that Yeats is worthy of being a writer, and his imagination has made such a leap forward at this level.

Duan Feizhuo tried hard to answer with a smile uglier than crying. Although Yeats's guess was completely incorrect, Duan Feizhuo could only make him misunderstand.

The train arrived at Shrewsbury in Shropshire. It was a very small station, in such a country that only stagecoachs or mail coaches went to and from the various towns. If you are lucky, you can also meet a freight carriage on the same road, and you can hitch a ride for a low price or free of charge.

Duan Feizhuo purposely walked around the train station, but didn't find Z's unique figure among the passing passengers. He breathed a sigh of relief, at least it meant that Z would not come to hinder them.

They couldn't find a stagecoach, but a farmer happened to pass by with a freight cart and agreed to take Duan Feizhuo and others for a ride.

The environment inside the freight carriage is really not flattering, there is a stench of livestock everywhere. Duan Feizhuo felt that the car might have actually carried livestock.

Yeats and Al weren't too happy with the car either, but they had no choice. The three of them covered their noses with handkerchiefs at the same time to prevent inhalation of the smell, and also to prevent the vomit from accidentally splashing on others when they vomited it out.

"Speaking of which, Mr. Yeats," Duan Feizhuo said, "you haven't told me who we are going to acquire."

Yeats leaned against the window, looking out at the rural scenery outside with great interest. It was late spring, and the fields were alive with green meadows stretching to the horizon.

"He is the local baron, Albert Midlow, Lord Perilla. What I hope to acquire is his father's relic." Yeats said casually, "The Lord just inherited his father's title and property last year. Their family It is a long-standing but not very well-known family of mystics. It has not made much achievements in the study of esoteric philosophy, but the secular industry is doing well. But in the previous generation, when the old Lord was alive, their family had financial difficulties. Probably It is for this reason that the old Lord Perilla would rather let his son learn how to do business, and the lineage of mystics has been cut off in this generation."

"Since the new lord doesn't understand esoteric philosophy, why won't he sell his father's relics?"

"I don't know, maybe it's because of seeing things and thinking about people. I thought Lord Perilla was in urgent need of money, so I wrote him a letter, but he rejected it straight away." Yeats was sullen.

"That's why you took me with you?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

Al nodded, "The reputation of the owner of the secret trading house still has some appeal in the industry. Maybe it will be much easier if you come forward."

The carriage drove through the spring-like countryside, passing through an oak forest, and the magnificent Perilla Manor was located on the hillside. Duan Feizhuo let out a heartfelt "Wow—", this is the real aristocratic manor, it can be regarded as carved beams and painted buildings, beautiful and magnificent.

"It's so grand!" Al leaned in front of the carriage and said loudly to the driver on purpose.

Although what he praised was the manor of the lord's family, the coachman was also honored.

"Isn't it? Oak Manor is one of the most magnificent manors in the county. I didn't even want to add 'one', but the Lord always taught us to be modest." He shrugged disapprovingly.

"Why is it called Oak Manor?"

"Because it was built with oak trees, most of the building materials were taken from the Lord's private oak forest."

Al asked about the situation inside the manor again. Perhaps because of his young age and innocent appearance, the coachman was happy to chat with him. Duan Feizhuo had to admit that Al's cliché skills were really proficient. Fortunately, the journey was not long, and the carriage arrived at the gate of the mansion soon, otherwise Arlian might have been able to find out the color of the master's pajamas.

The carriage stopped at the gate of the manor, and Duan Feizhuo jumped out of the carriage, taking a breath of fresh air impatiently.

"What's the matter with you? How can you park such a dirty car at the front door?"

An old man with white hair and dressed as a housekeeper rushed towards them. He exudes the unique indifference and arrogance of aristocratic butlers, perhaps because of his age, his skin is pale, his eyes are sunken, and he looks like a vampire.

"Didn't you say that freight carriages can only enter through the back door? Are you going to dirty the eyes of the Lord and Madam?" the butler reprimanded the coachman.

The coachman lowered his head in shame, "I'm sorry, Mr. Haut, but I want to send these three guests..."

"Can guests break the rules of Perilla Manor at will? What's more, I have never heard of guests coming to the door! How dare you send cats and dogs to the manor?" the butler said sharply.

The coachman bowed deeply, his head almost dropped to the ground, and hurriedly drove the carriage to the back door.

The butler turned to Duan Feizhuo and the others, looking at them with contempt.

Although the three people were dressed in extraordinary clothes, after a long journey, the clothes were wrinkled, covered with straw and dust, and exuded a smell of livestock. The housekeeper looked at them like he was looking at three silly sheep in clothes.

Yeats handed over a perfumed and gold-edged business card, "Your Majesty William Butler Yeats, visiting the master of your house."

Seeing that luxurious business card, the housekeeper's indifferent expression finally loosened.

"Please wait here a moment." After speaking, he entered the mansion with his business card, and left Duan Feizhuo and the three of them at the door.

Al couldn't help spitting on the ground, "Who would leave the guests at the door like this! I don't know anything about hospitality!"

Yeats calmly said, "It's often said that Dao would rather mess with the master than the housekeeper. It means that the master is highly educated, knowledgeable, and courteous, while a housekeeper with little education likes to look down on others."

After a while, the butler came back.

"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry for neglecting you guys!" His attitude took a 180-degree turn, with a smile all over his face, "So you are a famous poet! Why didn't you say it earlier? My master treats you best. Writers and artists! Please come inside! I am the butler of Perilla Manor, Hao Te. Please forgive me for my negligence."

He graciously opened the door for the guests. However, no matter how enthusiastic he was, he couldn't erase Duan Feizhuo's inner disgust for him.

Hao Te welcomed the three guests into the manor. As expected of a nobleman's mansion, just a single hall is more spacious than Duan Feizhuo's entire house. Huge portraits are hung on the walls. According to Hao Te, they are the portraits of the successive generations of Lord and Madame Perilla. Duan Feizhuo always had a strange feeling that the people in the portraits seemed to be glaring at them, the uninvited guests. Although the room was magnificent, it gave him a lingering sense of darkness.

Through the foyer is the reception room. Waiting there was a young man in a morning coat, of medium height, square jaw, not outstanding in features or build, very much like the portraits in the hall, but generally a notch uglier. It can be seen that the painters who painted those portraits must have worked hard to beautify the pictures.

There was also an elderly woman, well-jeweled and regal, who, despite her grizzled hair, still looked vigorous.

Hot introduced, "This is Lord Perilla, Albert Midlow."

The man in the morning coat shook hands with Yeats and Duan Feizhuo, and patted Al on the head kindly. Al wasn't too happy.

Haut added, "This lady is the Lord's mother, old Lady Edith, Lord Perilla."

Mrs. Edith stretched out a hand noblely, allowing Duan Feizhuo, Yeats and Al to take turns kissing.

Lord Perilla winked at the housekeeper, "Hot, you go out first, I will entertain the guests."

Hao Te bowed his head and left.

Lord Perilla was the most enthusiastic about Yeats. He took his hand and said, "I have known you for a long time, Mr. Yeats. I have always admired your poems! I have read your "Crossroads" and "Rose" countless times. !"

Yeats smiled a little far-fetched, "I'm not here today to discuss literature with you, my lord. I wrote you a letter, and today I'm here for the matter written in the letter."

Lord Perilla's face immediately collapsed, "I should have written it very clearly in my reply to you."

Yeats said, "It is because I have been rejected many times that I want to see you. My lord, your father has long passed away. Why don't you just sell those mysterious little things left by him? Those things Putting it in your house is also a disaster, right?"

Lord Perilla didn't dare to answer, but first asked his mother's opinion submissively, "Mother, since the owner of the trading house has come to lobby in person..."

Mrs. Edith said awe-inspiringly, "Those are the relics of my late husband. I see things and think about others, and I don't want to sell them."

Her son hastily tugged at her clothes, telling her to keep her voice down. "Mother, anyway, I don't understand mystical philosophy, and I don't plan to let my descendants learn it. It's useless to keep those things..."

"Have you no respect for your dead father at all?"

The Lord persuaded, "Mother, you have to consider the reality! Otherwise, how about selling those items with special powers and keeping the ordinary ones as souvenirs? You know, those items are also a disaster in our house." If those policemen know that our family has hidden secret art items and cause some trouble, then our family's reputation will be ruined! My marriage may also be blown!"

Madam Edith turned her head away, "Our family is aristocratic, I don't believe that night policemen have the guts to raid our house!"

"They are night watchmen! As long as they want to, what can't they do?"

Duan Feizhuo could see that Lord Perilla himself was quite willing to sell his father's inheritance, but his mother was the main obstacle. As long as he can pass his mother's test, the business will be easy to talk about.

Yeats was also aware of this. The master of the business was not Lord Perilla, but his mother, Lady Edith.

He turned to persuade the old lady, "I understand how you really love the old lord's relics, but don't you think about your son and family? Those occult items are bought by our professional merchants, which are much safer than keeping them in your home. I don't look down on them." You mean, but you are not a mystic after all..."

Lady Edith shook her head stubbornly.

It seems difficult to continue the conversation. Unless a night policeman descended from the sky and ransacked the house on the spot, Mrs. Edith might hang on to her husband's estate until she followed him.

Suddenly, someone "bang bang" knocked on the door of the reception room.

"Open the door, Albert! I want to see you!" A girl's voice came from outside the door.

Mrs. Edith showed displeasure, "Go and open the door, Albert."

Lord Perilla immediately opened the door like a humble servant.

A girl rushed into the house like a whirlwind.

She was tall and richly dressed, and wore a rich opal collar around her neck, which was of great value at first glance.

Lord Perilla panicked when he saw the girl, "Melissa, I'm entertaining guests, what are you doing here?"

Mrs. Edith snorted coldly, "There are no rules. Is this the kind of tutor in your family? I really can't tell you are from a noble family."

The girl named Melissa ignored the old lady and ran straight to Lord Perilla.

"Albert, I heard that you are going to demolish this mansion?" Melissa's voice trembled, obviously reluctant, "Why? This house is fine, why do you want to demolish it? Besides, it was just repaired a few months ago Ever? It's a thankless effort! I love it the way it is!"

"This is not your home." The old lady said almost gnashing her teeth.

The two women stared at each other incredulously.

Melissa went on to say, "Besides, if the mansion is sold together, the price will be higher? Albert, you should settle the account!"

Lord Perilla became more and more flustered. He hurriedly pushed the girl out of the house, and said in a good voice, "Melissa, there are guests here! How can you say this in front of the guests..."

He turned to Duan Feizhuo and the others, and said with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, it seems that the business can't be negotiated. Please come back. If you want to discuss literature, I'm very welcome."

Duan Feizhuo also realized that it was impossible to talk normally in this situation, so he had to bid farewell to the Lord.

Butler Hao Te sent them out. Probably because he noticed that the host and the group of guests had broken up, Hao Te's attitude changed from courteous to indifferent.

"It seems that every family has scriptures that are difficult to recite." Yeats said.

Hote glared at him, as if blaming him for chewing Lord Perilla's tongue behind his back.

Duan Feizhuo asked, "Who is that lady?"

Hote replied coldly, "That's Miss Melissa, the lord is pursuing her. Soon she will become the mistress of the manor."

Duan Feizhuo asked again, "My lord wants to demolish the mansion and sell the land?"

Hao Te gave him a look, "This is none of your business. Please stop pointing fingers at other people's affairs."

Duan Feizhuo was so choked by him that he couldn't speak.

The three walked out of the gate of the mansion, and Hao Te slammed the gate with a "bang", as if saying that you should never come back.

Al made a face at the door.

"Don't you find it a bit strange?" Duan Feizhuo asked, "The girl named Melissa said that Lord Perilla is going to sell the manor, which means that he is short of money. If so, why did he demolish the mansion? Selling the house and the land together, as the girl said, is more profitable than selling a vacant lot, isn't it?"

Yeats frowned, "I don't want to go home empty-handed. Let's stay in a nearby village first, and come back tomorrow."

Duan Feizhuo knew that he would never give up until he achieved his goal, so he had no choice but to agree.

There is a village near Perilla Manor, most of the villagers are tenants of the Lord's family. There is only one small hotel in the village, named Clover Hotel, which also serves as a tavern, a village meeting place and other functions.

Since it was Yeats who proposed the trip, it was natural that Yeats paid for it. They asked for three rooms at a time, and they were naturally treated like VIPs.

It's past lunch time now, but Duan Feizhuo didn't eat anything along the way, and the pungent smell dampened his appetite in the freight carriage, and now he has an appetite. The hotel owner was also easy to talk to and specially made lunch for them.

The three of them sat down around the dining table. Just as the proprietress brought a pot of onion soup, a familiar and bluffing voice came from outside the hotel.

"Oh, it smells so good! Boss, I think we should just stay in this hotel?"

"There is only one hotel in the whole village. If we don't live in this hotel, are we going to sleep on the street?"

"That's not bad, the sky is on the ground, it's unique."

A cheerful Xenophon and a gloomy Z walked into the hotel.

Duan Feizhuo just wanted to shout out why it's you two again! Heaven save me!

When he got off the train, he even walked around the station to make sure that Z and Xenophon didn't get off at the same station as them. Why did they appear again now? !

Yeats and Al also had ghost expressions on their faces.

Xenophon saw Duan Feizhuo and others sitting in the corner of the hotel at a glance, and walked straight towards him. There were tables and chairs blocking the way, so he directly stepped over the chairs.

"What a coincidence, you are here too!" He sat down at Duan Feizhuo's table carelessly. Obviously no one greeted him, but he took a spoonful of onion soup and put it into his mouth.

"It's delicious, I didn't eat anything all the way, I was starving to death."

Duan Feizhuo asked tremblingly, "Detective Throwfield, why are you here? We shouldn't get off at the same stop, right?"

Xenophon's mouth was full of onion soup, and Duan Feizhuo didn't understand after babbling for a long time.

Z also sat down at their table. He slapped the spoon from Xenophon's hand, and said angrily, "This guy is standing on the wrong side."

Duan Feizhuo had nothing to say.

Yeats asked, "What is the business of the two detective gentlemen here?"

As expected of a future literary giant, he is unruffled in the face of danger and still maintains a personable appearance.

"Of course it's investigating a case," said Z.

"What case?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

"It has nothing to do with you. Don't ask too much." Z's empty red eyes flashed a chill, "What about you? Didn't you say you were going on a trip?"

Yeats replied, "We're going to spend a holiday here, gathering folk songs."

"That's really a coincidence." Z smiled coldly, dragged Xenophon away from the table, and called the proprietress, "I want two rooms, and lunch will be delivered to the room."

The proprietress stared blankly at Z for a while, stunned by his beauty, and after a long while hurriedly led them to the room.

Their figures disappeared upstairs. Duan Feizhuo, Yeats and Al looked at each other silently.

"Could they have come to trouble Lord Perilla?" Al asked in a low voice.

Yeats said, "But the lord himself does not know the occult..."

"Shh!" Duan Feizhuo hurriedly raised a finger, pointed to the upstairs, and said with mouth shape, "That guy has very good ears, be careful not to be heard by him."

The three of them hung their heads in silence and continued eating their lunch.

After a hasty lunch, they left the hotel and walked along the dirt path to the center of the village. It was so far away from the hotel, Z should not be able to hear them, so they spoke with confidence.

"The lord himself doesn't know occult arts, so the night guards shouldn't have any trouble. But once they find items related to occult arts in the lord's house, they will definitely confiscate them," Yeats said.

Duan Feizhuo asked, "Then we won't be able to buy anything?"

Yeats smiled, "Don't panic. Lord Perilla is an aristocrat. No matter how arrogant the night guards are, at least they have to show off the face of the aristocrats. They don't dare to blatantly raid the house. Besides, most mystics will send their books and The magic weapon is hidden in a place where ordinary people can't find it. This may be an opportunity for us. The old lady may be anxious to clear her deceased husband's inheritance because she is afraid of showing her feet.' The Lord's house was ransacked by the police for hidden illegal items ’, if such headlines were published in the newspapers, the reputation of their family would be greatly affected. The marriage between the lord and the beautiful lady is also in jeopardy.”

A bare oak tree was erected on the small square in the center of the village. Many villagers were surrounding the oak tree and hanging ribbons on the branches.

"What are they doing?" Duan Feizhuo asked.

"Ah, it's almost May 1st, and they're preparing for May Day." Yeats turned to Duan Feizhuo, "Why, aren't you all celebrating May Day?"

It has been three years since Duan Feizhuo traveled to this world. Although he has heard the name May Day, he has never actually experienced it. He vaguely knew that May Day was a kind of folk festival in Europe, but he didn't know what it was to celebrate.

Al defended Duan Feizhuo that "May Day is rarely celebrated in cities."

"I see. May Day is indeed more common in the countryside. This custom has probably disappeared in the cities." Yeats easily accepted this explanation, "This is a festival for farmers to celebrate spring and pray for a good harvest. .This festival was originally to worship Diana, the goddess of the forest. During the festival, people will erect a May tree or a May pole, go on a group outing in the mountains, and break twigs. In some places, a pair of men and women will be selected and let them have a One plays the role of the forest goddess, and the other acts as the king of the forest. A marriage contract with the forest goddess means that the goddess will bless the weather and the harvest.”

Duan Feizhuo listened intently, completely oblivious to the appearance of a haggard woman behind them.

The woman looked at Al steadily and grabbed him.

"My child!" she cried, "you are back at last! My child!"

Al was stunned, then struggled to break away from the woman's embrace, hid behind Duan Feizhuo, and looked at the woman vigilantly.

"I don't know you!" The boy shouted angrily, "You've got the wrong person!"

Duan Feizhuo's first reaction was to meet a child trafficker. If a woman grabs a child and insists that he is her son, most people will probably believe it.

But as a human trafficker, this woman is too untidy. Her hair was disheveled, as if it hadn't been taken care of for a long time, her face was yellow and thin, her clothes were ragged, and only her eyes were shining.

The villagers in the square noticed the commotion here and gathered together. Several women rushed forward to pull the woman away, and the other villagers were full of guilt. The clothes of Duan Feizhuo and others can be seen as guests from afar. They were pestered by the woman, and the villagers felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, that's a crazy woman," said a villager. "Her son, Barney, has been missing for a year and a half. Now, whenever she sees a child of the same age, she will mistake it for her son."

Duan Feizhuo looked at the ragged woman sympathetically. When she was dragged away by the villagers, she kept looking back, as if she had decided that Al was her child.

Al came out from behind Duan Feizhuo and tugged at his sleeve, "Master, let's stay away from that crazy woman. How about going elsewhere?"

Duan Feizhuo nodded. They wandered around the square. Yeats was very interested in the village's May Day customs, and insisted on staying to watch the villagers decorate the May Day tree. Al is also a child at heart, because it is the first time to travel far, he is very curious about everything. A dead tree can make him linger. Duan Feizhuo felt bored, so he went back to the hotel alone.

He greeted the landlady and walked upstairs. He only came to his own room once before when he was packing his luggage, but now he doesn't remember which room is his.

It seems to be the second room on the right hand side of the corridor, maybe the third room. Duan Feizhuo went to the second room first and tried to push it, but unexpectedly the door was unlocked and opened in response.

There are people in the room.

A wooden bathtub was placed directly opposite the door, and a person was sitting in the bathtub with his back facing him.

Although he couldn't see the man's face, Duan Feizhuo recognized him just by looking at his back.

Wet silver hair cascaded down her shoulders and floated on the water, like a pond full of moonlight.

— is Z.

Witnessing someone else taking a shower, it was so impolite, Duan Feizhu hurriedly lowered his head and stared at the floor. But that glimpse still made him see something he shouldn't have seen.

Z's bare shoulders were carved with old scars one after another.

Layers of scars, like some kind of tattoos, covered his body.

A metal spine was inlaid abruptly in the center of his back. With his movements, the vertebrae opened and closed, and the ends pierced into the flesh.

There was a crash.

Z stood up and looked back at him indifferently.

Two red clouds flew over Duan Feizhu's cheeks.

"I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean to! I entered the wrong door!"

He hastily closed the door and pushed open the door next to him. That was his room.

He threw himself on the bed, his heart beating violently. He saw Z taking a shower, would Z kill someone to silence him?

But compared to his own safety, he cared more about Z's body. Z not only the limbs, but also the spine...

He is obviously such a beautiful person, but his body is full of scars. It's like silently declaring a truth that nothing in the world is perfect.

Boom, boom, boom.

There was a slow knock on the door.

"Who?" Duan Feizhuo jumped up in shock.

"Me." Z said.

"What's your business?"

"Open the door."

Duan Feizhuo hesitated for a moment. Was Z here to kill him? If yes, then why knock? With the power of Z, just break into the door directly. Since he knocked on the door politely, does it mean that he didn't intend to kill?

Duan Feizhuo jumped out of bed and opened the door carefully.

Z stood outside the door, wearing only a white bathrobe, and his wet silver hair was still dripping down his shoulders. Between the messy bangs revealed a pair of ruby ​​eyes.

"Did you see it all?" he asked.