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As a second-generation demon, I am a company slave at the Demonic Control Bureau
墨書 Inktalez
At three quarters past midnight, the waning moon hangs alone in the high sky.
Yang Er, slightly drunk, used the key to open the door, crossed the courtyard, and entered his own room.
He flicked the fire starter, lit the oil lamp by the window, turned around, and suddenly noticed two blurry shadows cast on the wall in front of him.
One shadow was his own, and the other shadow was...
He turned around in a hurry, rubbed his eyes vigorously, and in the dim light, he saw a tall, thin man standing in front of him. The man had the light behind him, so his face was not clear, but his facial features seemed quite regular.
Yang Er's parents had long passed away, leaving him this small courtyard and a considerable amount of money. However, he was idle and addicted to gambling, and the inheritance left by his parents had long been squandered, leaving only this small courtyard.
A few days ago, Yang Er's luck suddenly turned, and he ended up winning several hundred taels of silver in the well-known Chen's gambling house in the city.
He returned home in high spirits with the silver and hid it away. After that, he revisited the long-lost old tavern, listened to storytelling and watched operas. He also hosted a banquet at the Chinese restaurant, inviting friends and boasting about his exploits of winning big and amassing silver in the gambling house during the banquet.
That evening, he went to the famous Piaoxiang Courtyard in the city, where he met many acquaintances and had a brief but fulfilling discussion about the important matter of clearing inventory. Satisfied, he returned home. Carrying a catty of yellow wine and half a catty of pig's head meat, he walked into his own courtyard, very pleased with the quiet atmosphere inside.
He used to have a guard dog. It was diligent and responsible, barking fiercely at anyone who approached the yard, including Yang Er himself.
Even one night, it bit Yang Er on the butt with its sharp teeth, and also helped wake him up from being drunk.
Yang Er was extremely angry. He believed that a disobedient dog would make him, as the owner, lose face.
A disobedient dog biting its own butt, what's the difference between that and slapping its own face?
Then the watchdog becomes a pot of stewed dog meat.
Yang Er picked up the water ladle by the well, scooped up a ladle of well water, drank a few mouthfuls fiercely, and then went into the house.
As he staggered along, he thought to himself that he should go to the dog dealer's place tomorrow and catch another puppy.
Otherwise, the silver coins left in the house would not be safe.
But he didn't expect that a thief had sneaked into the house. Moreover, the other party did not use a mask or veil to cover their face, but chose to confront him directly, seemingly unconcerned about being exposed.
Yang Er With a start, he was suddenly awakened from his drunken stupor. He immediately strode towards the corner where his chest was hidden, containing the several hundred taels of silver he had won from the gambling den.
At the same time, he prepared to call out loudly.
But he couldn't shout.
The man suddenly made a move, swiftly approaching and placing a strong hand accurately on Yang Er's neck.
Yang Er Only felt the constant icy touch of a hand, as if a venomous snake had coiled around the neck, followed closely by a sudden suffocation, only managing to let out a weak gasp.
The sound was feeble, like the buzzing of a mosquito, impossible to be heard outside the house.
Yang Er The yellow wine and food in hand suddenly fell to the ground, with the wine jar shattered and food scattered everywhere.
He reached out with both hands, vigorously patting and pulling the other person's arms, but it was all in vain.
A man grabbed Yang Er by the neck and dragged him to the window like dragging a dead dog.
Yang Er kicked his feet unwillingly, making a dull sound as they hit the ground. His face turned red with fear, his eyes filled with intense terror.
The man looked at Yang Er coldly, as if the situation had nothing to do with him.
He flipped his palm and a sharp dagger flashed out. The slender blade shimmered with a faint cold light in the dim lamplight.
He did not hesitate at all, nor did he speak, and casually picked up the short sword and swung it towards Yang Er.
A cold light flashed, and the sharp short sword instantly cut open Yang Er's throat. The man's short sword did not stop, and he stabbed towards Yang Er's chest through the thin clothing.
I only heard a muffled sound, as if a knife had pierced a water bag. The short sword avoided the ribs in front of the chest and accurately pierced the heart. Then the man pushed the short sword into Yang Er's heart with force. Yang Er trembled in pain, but unfortunately, his trachea was cut open, so he couldn't make a sound.
After finishing these tasks, the man calmly stood up, took a few steps, and looked expressionlessly at Yang Er lying on the ground.
Yang Er was holding his neck, spitting out blood foam, and making a wheezing sound.
A sudden chill accompanied by intense pain quickly spread throughout Yang Er's body. He lay on the ground, convulsing uncontrollably, his pupils rapidly contracting.
As his body shook, a large amount of fresh blood flowed from his throat and heart, slowly spreading across the floor of the room.
The man no longer looked at Yang Er and turned to the outside of the house.
He fetched water from the well, leisurely cleaned the bloodstains off the short sword, and then put it back into the scabbard at his waist.
Then he began to wash his hands.
The man had committed murder with swift and clean movements, and his hands were actually not stained with blood. However, he washed them meticulously, not even neglecting the spaces between his fingernails. It seemed that for him, washing his hands was a sacred ritual.
After finishing these tasks, he walked back into the house.
Yang Er was lying on the ground at this time, with wide open eyes, a deathly pale face due to excessive blood loss, and only able to make slight movements.
After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea...
The man confirmed the death of Yang Er, and a slight movement finally appeared in the calm eyes of the ancient well.
He opened the corner box in the room, searched through it, and found several hundred taels of silver that Yang Er had stored inside. He tucked the silver into his bosom, blew out the oil lamp, left the room, and then closed the door.
A man came to the yard and took out a bundle from behind the millstone in the yard. This was something he had placed there in advance. He took out the clothes from the bundle and changed into them, then swapped the cloth shoes he was wearing for thin-soled black boots.
He rolled up the clothes and shoes he had taken off into the bundle, and was about to leave when suddenly a voice came from outside.
"It's four in the morning! Close the doors and windows, prevent fires and theft!"
Following the sound of the gong, the sound of the copper gong continued to ring.
A man was leaning against the courtyard wall, keeping quiet to avoid alerting the night watchman outside.
"Wait! I need to pee first," a voice of the night watchman came from outside the door.
"Go home and do it again." Another night watchman voice also sounded afterwards.
"Holding your urine can easily damage your kidneys."
"You're not holding back, are you?"
"Go to hell!"
After a while, the sound of clappers and gongs outside rang out again.
"Clap! Clap!"
"Clang!"
The sound slowly faded away, apparently the two night watchmen were gradually moving further away.
A man climbed over the courtyard wall and walked towards the alley behind.
After the man left, Yang Er's house became as quiet as if it had sunk to the bottom of a lake.
The bleak moonlight seeped through the window mullions, casting its light onto the floor of the room and onto the stiff body of Yang Er, making him look like an abandoned dead dog.
Suddenly, a faint rustling sound emerged, and a dark figure trembled as it crawled out from under the bed.
The dark figure glanced at Yang Er lying on the ground, recalling everything he had seen in the dim light of the oil lamp, smelling the strong scent of blood that had penetrated his nostrils, and couldn't help but shudder all over.
He dared not stay in the house, so he immediately rushed out, taking the door with him, and climbed over the courtyard wall.
murderer Carrying a burden, he came to the alley behind. The area behind the alley was sparsely populated, especially in the late night, making it perfect for escaping. He walked under the eaves, stepping in the shadows of the trees, striding quickly, and soon disappeared into the vast night.
Not far away, a figure was standing quietly on a towering attic. When the man emerged from the alley, he watched quietly until the man disappeared into the darkness.
He withdrew his gaze and was about to come down from the attic.
"Hmm?"
At this moment, he caught sight of another dark figure emerging from the back alley out of the corner of his eye. The figure exited the alley without pausing, swiftly moving in another direction.
Seeing this, the person in the attic stepped on the railing and leaped out into the pitch-black night sky. It's unclear what he did, but he somehow hung suspended in mid-air. He changed his posture in the air, drawing a dark line in the moonlight, and flew towards the direction the dark figure had departed, as if he were a bird soaring in the high heavens.
"Clang, clang..."
The night watchman's clapper faintly echoed from a distance, telling people that the night was departing, and daylight was about to arrive.
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