Chapter 53: Item 2: Molar Candy
After the blind man said this, he looked at Shen Li and realized that his expression was not right.
He thought about it and realized that Shen Li and Miller had no intersection except for a few words a few days ago.
Would it make him sad if an unrelated person died?
Not only Shen Li, but the entire candy store seemed to be affected by Miller's death.
For the first time in Xiali's life, he closed the store early.
He had wounds on his face, caused by Miller's father.
From beginning to end, Xia Li did not resist a word. He just stood alone on the wooden ladder, stirring the syrup numbly.
In the huge boiler, the sticky syrup exudes a sweet aroma.
Today is clearly the third day, the day I agreed with Mr. Xia Li to pick up the package.
Everyone in the candy store fell asleep inexplicably.
There were also deliverymen like Yu Qianqian who lived outside the candy store, gathering at the door to watch.
Mr. Charlie opened the door, letting the sweet aroma of candy waft out.
The whole town suddenly became silent, and even the passing birds fell down inexplicably.
Passersby were lying in all directions on the street.
On the hillside not far away, Zao Wu, who was observing everything through the eyes of a bird, suddenly noticed something was wrong. He quickly closed his notebook and sent a message to the boss with great certainty: "Chen Li is in danger."
…
…
This was the first time Ye Minglang came to the company's laboratory after reviewing confidential documents.
The laboratory of Wuliang Express is an absolutely confidential organization. If the confidential files about Wu Zangmiao had not been cracked, Ye Minglang would not have known that such a place existed.
All employees in the laboratory are named by their numbers.
Every day, the laboratory sends out dozens of professional search teams to search for lost objects from the other world around the world.
Once these "cargoes" are found, they will be sent to the laboratory for research as soon as possible and classified according to their risk levels.
The batch of goods that need to be returned immediately will be sealed in the Wuliang Box and handed over to the Wuliang Express Company for distribution to the courier.
The other goods that are not dangerous for the time being will be left behind for further research and development.
His original intention of making this trip was to personally check out the Five Internal Organs Temple and other sealed and monitored divine organs, and to meet the laboratory director by the way.
Then suddenly I received a message from Hayami.
Zao Wu just said casually that Shen Li was in danger.
As for what the danger was, there was no response when I asked again.
Laboratory employee 767 took Ye Minglang to the lounge: "The laboratory director will be here soon. I'll pour you a glass of water first."
As a result, in the blink of an eye, the person who was sitting on the sofa had disappeared.
767 widened his eyes and drank the water that he brought to Ye Minglang in one gulp. "This is really hell."
Although Ye Minglang knew that the timing of this time travel was wrong, he could not sit idly by and watch Shen Li in danger.
As soon as I walked through the glass into the other person's dormitory, I smelled a sweet and sticky smell.
Chen Li and the blind man were lying on the ground unconscious.
There's something wrong with the air here.
Ye Minglang wanted to pick up Chen Li and leave quickly, but he felt dizzy after taking just two steps, and it was too late to cover his mouth and nose.
After a muffled thud, Ye Minglang also fell to the ground and fell into a deep sleep.
This is a very long dream.
The buildings in the dream were tall and strange.
He knelt in the center of the huge ancestral hall. The bronze statues of his ancestors were shrouded in the light of the eternal candles, glowing with a faint luster.
Counting from left to right, there are exactly twelve bronze statues.
Each one looked down at him.
Although they are all dead objects, the sense of oppression at the point where the bronze statue's line of sight converges is so obvious.
A legless old man was slumped on a wooden chair in front of him.
All his teeth had fallen out and he looked as skinny as a piece of dead wood.
The attendants were silently waiting behind the old man.
The old man was quite old, but judging by the clothes he was wearing, he must be a person of very high status.
Ye Minglang seemed to be trapped in a strange body, completely unable to make any movements according to his own wishes.
The old man's voice was hoarse and his eyes were cloudy.
"A century-old foundation, with many generations of descendants, but in all these years, only someone as talented as you has appeared."
"My family has been struggling to survive in this eighteen levels of purgatory for generations. I originally thought that you could lead us out of this endless purgatory..."
When the old man said this, his expression became sad. He raised his cane in great grief and hit him hard on the head.
"You are the hope of the entire clan, but why can't you... learn this spell that can change your fate?"
The boy remained kneeling on the spot with his head touching the ground.
The blow from the ancestor just now had already caused his head to be broken and bleeding.
Blood flowed into his eyes, and the world turned red.
He gritted his teeth, and even though he was unwilling, his words were still respectful.
“I just didn’t work hard enough.”
"No, you have been working very hard. You only sleep three hours a day and spend the rest of the time practicing talismans."
The old man's voice was trembling: "No one has worked harder than you, you are just... just like us, you don't have that kind of luck!"
The boy clenched his fists.
A child of destiny, gifted with extraordinary talents.
Since he was a child, everyone has regarded him as the hope of the entire clan, so why doesn't he have that fate?
Why?
He refused.
He was unwilling to accept it.
The old ancestor sighed and touched his head with his skinny fingers.
"From today on, you don't need to practice talismans anymore. There are more important things for you to do."
The boy looked up in disbelief with a mouth full of blood.
"Grandfather, I want to try again..."
He was unwilling to accept it.
"You have been studying talisman magic for three years and have achieved nothing. In fact, from that time on, we had a vague feeling that you were not cut out for it."
It's not the right material.
These words sound so harsh coming from our ancestors.
How did he fall from being a favored child of heaven and the center of attention to being "not made of that stuff"?
His ancestors never said a harsh word to him since he was a child.
He felt extremely aggrieved.
But she stubbornly held back her tears and shouted, "Grandpa, please, let me try again."
"Just listen to what I have to say first."
The old ancestor was naturally reluctant to see his grandson being wronged, and could not help but slow down his tone:
"Three years ago, the family felt that we shouldn't put all our hopes on you, so over the years, we have found many children to learn talisman techniques. Yesterday, one of the children has made some progress."
Ye Minglang was trapped in this body, and he could feel the grievance and shock he was feeling at the moment.
"So...I was abandoned by my family?"
My ancestor was hard of hearing and did not hear these words.
"We were narrow-minded before. We always thought that it was our own children, our own family bloodline, who led us out of this endless hell, that was the real honor."
"But now, I have come to terms with it. It doesn't matter if it's my own child or someone else's, or if they are related by blood or not. As long as they can lead us out of this place, no matter who they are, they can take on this huge family business."
The boy lowered his head and smiled bitterly.
As expected, he was abandoned.
"Then what exactly does the ancestor want me to do by calling me here?"
As this involved family secrets, the old ancestor dismissed everyone before slowly speaking:
"You have studied for so long, you should know that the power of talismans comes from sacrifice and exchange."
"The more important the sacrifice, the greater the power you will get in return. I want you to get close to him, become friends with that child, accompany him as he grows up, and become someone who is very important to him."
When the ancestor said this, the young man actually already understood.
But he still didn't want to believe it, and couldn't help asking: "You want me to be a sacrifice?"
"Why?"
The emotions that the boy had tried so hard to suppress finally burst out, and for the first time in his life, he rebelliously rejected his ancestor's proposal.
"Grandpa, I am your grandson. Why do you want me to be sacrificed?"
"Why?"
Although it is hard to let him go, he must face the reality now.
"Even if you are the right material and have the destiny to learn the art of talismans, have you ever thought that after you master the art of talismans, there will also be a group of people who will sacrifice themselves to get close to you? Whose life is not life? You are my grandson, so you can't die, right?"
"Open your eyes and look at this world. Your ancestors, generation after generation, have been struggling in these eighteen levels of purgatory. What are we doing this for? Isn't it just to escape from here one day?"
Our ancestors said this with great sorrow.
"The child is in the library. Take some time to meet him and then tell me your decision."
The boy stood up stubbornly, and every step he took was extremely heavy.
He wanted to see who had the ability to replace him.
It never rains in the eighteenth level of hell.
Water is an extremely precious resource here. Every day there are long queues of people outside the ancestral hall coming to get water.
The boy's lips were cracked, and he could taste blood when he took a sip.
He put everything behind him and pushed open the door of the library.
There was another person sitting at the desk that originally belonged to him.
The tribesmen outside had to beg for a long time before they could get a sip of water with charity.
But the cup on the table is always full of water and you can never finish drinking it.
This scarce water source should be provided to him first.
Only after he finishes drinking the rest will it be the turn of others to have a sip.
Although he was extremely angry, he still controlled his temper and stood quietly behind the bookshelf observing him.
The boy looked younger than him.
Thin, with jet-black hair.
The skin is a little yellow due to years of malnutrition.
At this moment, he was concentrating on drawing talismans with one hand.
A spark of fire appeared on the fingertips.
The boy standing behind the bookshelf looked at this scene in shock.
When he was drawing the talismans, it looked effortless.
It was easy to succeed.
He was familiar with every stroke of this rune.
He also once sat in that position, practicing day after day, and he drew the same talisman countless times.
But not once was it successful.
But he succeeded easily.
Is this talent?
He was extremely jealous and unwillingly copied the same talisman countless times on his palm.
Behind him, the boy who smelled the blood gently pulled his sleeve.
"Brother, are you hurt?"
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