His tone doesn't sound like he's blackmailing me, but these legs are on my own body.
It's up to me to keep or leave them.
Is there any other way he can forcefully detain me?
When the old man saw that I didn't believe it, he ordered the bamboo pole.
My son came out with a thread-bound booklet.
I was just about to see what tricks he wanted to play, so I took it and flipped through a few pages.
The exquisite thread-bound booklet contains many names.
I flipped through it briefly, but didn't see anything significant.
I was about to hand it back, but my eyes were caught by the content on one of the pages.
It turns out that the three characters "Hu Bayi" were clearly written on that page, and no matter how you look at these three characters, they are all written by me and are definitely not imitated by others.
I thought about it for a long time, but I really can’t remember when I left my name on this booklet.
The most outrageous thing is that my birth date is also marked next to my name, which is exactly the same.
I quickly flipped forward a few pages and found a few names that looked like I had seen them somewhere.
They were probably old colleagues who dug holes and dug sand.
They hung out on the same road.
Although they had never met each other, they were still hanging around.
Sounds familiar.
Could it be that Mr.
Sang opened the shop under false pretenses and was secretly working for the government, specifically responsible for investigating the illegal activities of private tomb robbing and fighting.
He was a retired veteran cadre who was fed by the emperor and received the emperor's orders.
If this is true, then I will be in big trouble.
I hurriedly read the booklet from cover to cover and confirmed that Fatty and Shiry Yang were not "nominated for the gold list" with me, and the rope in my heart was loosened.
"How about it, you understand" "I understand, I'll do it all.
I'm ashamed of the motherland's education over the years, and the army leaders' training for me.
I only have one thing to say, everything is my idea, others are innocent, they are all They were coerced and used by me.
I am the culprit, the evil fascist dictator.”
I have practiced this alone countless times in private.
When I first entered the industry, Fatty and I each prepared one.
We have never failed to do it for so many years.
From time to time, we will find an empty place to practice it.
How do you say that one minute on stage, ten years of hard work off stage, I finally hit it today.
That's good, it saves you the worry all day long.
Later, if the old man asks about his accomplices through torture, I will give him a thorough questioning.
If he could, he sent me to Auschwitz just to see who had the toughest bones.
At first he thought he had heard it wrong, but then he asked me to say it again, and then he laughed: "You little donkey, yes, yes, you are a bit similar to me when I was young, hahahaha."
He almost laughed until the end.
Can't afford to raise my waist.
Zhuganzi, who was originally expressionless on the side, couldn't help covering his mouth and snickering a few times.
Looking at the expressions on the young and old's faces, I knew that I must have guessed wrong.
I felt embarrassed and had to ask him for advice.
As if the bamboo pole had been waiting for me to ask a question, he took out the rice paper he asked me to sign when he came in and placed it on the table.
Then he put his hands together and retracted to Boss Sang, and said no more.
"This kind of paper is called double flying wings."
Mr.
Sang pointed to the signatures on the two pieces of paper and said, "It is a long-lost craft."
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After speaking, he picked up the brush and wrote a few words on a blank rice paper.
I immediately opened the thread-bound roster in my hand, and sure enough, I saw a row of "The World is for the Commons" that suddenly appeared, exactly the same as the calligraphy written by Mr.
Sang on the rice paper.
"Double Flying Wings" is indeed magical, but I, Hu Bayi, am not blinded by it.
Do you think you can keep me like this?
The old man seemed to understand my thoughts.
He opened another page, pointed to a name framed in black and said, "You might as well look carefully.
What does he have with other people?"
the difference."
I thought to myself, isn’t it just a name?
Even if it’s in foreign language, what’s so strange about it?
What's special about it?
Could it be that this person's surname is Wang Badan?
Mr.
Sang kept asking, so I couldn't shirk it, so I had to figure it out over and over again, and I could see some subtle differences.
This man's name was "Lin Jushui", and his name was outlined in a square black line.
In addition to his birth date, the booklet also noted his death wish.
This boy was in his prime when he died, a few years younger than me. age.
The most special thing is the stamp on the footer, which is a hollow model with a gold background.
The content on the stamp looks a bit awkward.
For a moment, I just felt that it was familiar, but I couldn't explain why.
Looking further, I found several more framed names one after another.
They were all of different ages, but they all had a gold medal stamped on the footer.
Although I can't guess the meaning of the inscription on the seal, I don't think the suggestion printed under the dead man's name is anything interesting.
This old man Sang loves to show off too much.
He throws out strange things one after another but refuses to reveal the connection between them.
Since entering "Yiyuanzhai", I have been led by his nose.
Up to now, I haven't even touched half of him.
I'm afraid it will be useless to talk more if I continue to waste my time.
I put the pamphlet back in front of the old man and prepared to retreat.
Mr.
Sang rubbed the small book and said slowly: "These people, like you, are capable people who can take away the collection from my Yiyuanzhai.
However, most of them died unexpectedly later."
I became anxious as soon as I heard that.
The Three Disciplines and Eight Attentions clearly stated that we should not take advantage of the common people.
I sat here for a long time without even taking a sip of water from you.
This hat is too big.
"Old man, are you kidding?
I, Hu Bayi, came back empty-handed.
I haven't touched half of the treasures in your store.
This is a matter of reputation.
How about you search me and not bring me such a random and unfair accusation?"
I As I was talking and unzipping my coat, Mr.
Sang stopped me and said, "You don't know something.
The rule in my store is to pick the goods.
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Last night in the inner hall, Huwei picked the goods alone in front of so many people.
I have you, that’s it It is your creation.
This bead is now yours.
Whether you want it or not is up to you.
But from now on, you will have the Overlord Seal under your name.
The property cannot be transferred or passed on.
It can only find its next owner when you pass away.
We have a total of 24 branches of Yiyuanzhai around the world.
From now on, you will be our customer wherever you go."
As soon as I heard that this was a overlord store that pursued a policy of forced buying and selling, an unknown fire suddenly ignited in my heart.
I lost all dignity, so I opened my face and said frankly: "Mr.
Sang, tell me you don't like to hear this."
Yes, no matter how good these beads are, I can’t take them.
I’m not afraid of how many people are waiting outside.
If I, Hu Bayi, want to leave, no one can stop me except Chairman Mao and his old man.”
I had a bad relationship with Old Man Sang just because I wanted him to drive me away.
Unexpectedly, he was not angry.
He just sighed softly: "You kid, if you had met me a few years earlier, you would have had a chance."
It's a pity that I'm old and have no willpower.
I don't want to force you to leave if you want.
It's just destiny, and you will come back sooner or later."
I sneered at his baseless prediction, symbolically cupped my hands, turned around and walked out of the gate of "Yiyuanzhai"
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