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A Tree Column| The Old Man Who Sells Fortune (Short Novel)

A Tree Column| The Old Man Who Sells Fortune (Short Novel)

Wen | a tree Edit | Swallow Picture | network

The season has passed the autumn, and the weather in the morning and evening has begun to become cool and pleasant, but the days have been clear, the sun is dangling in the air, and the aftertaste of the autumn tiger seems to have not diminished in the slightest.

On Maris Road hurriedly walked a young man, handsome, dressed in a gray robe, a black copper hat, and round-mouth cloth shoes on his feet, and between his hands and feet, he exuded a kind of wealth, a kind of wealth of a country man, but the pair of young round-mouth cloth shoes that were exquisite in the countryside, stepping on the bustling streets of Shanghai, betrayed him, this is a young man who has not been stable and long in Shanghai.

The young man hurried down to apartment building 46 in New Estate and stopped. Pedestrians are rare. Occasionally, pedestrians are also in a hurry. The apartment building is surrounded by green bamboo on both sides, which shows the mystery and tranquility of the apartment. He looked around and walked firmly up the stairs. The corridor seemed to reverberate faintly with the distant and intimate zen sound of tapping wooden fish. Seeing the two words "selling bu", the young man's tightly locked brows stretched a little, and an imperceptible smile appeared between his lips, and he took a few steps to the door of the "selling bu" person on the second floor. Tidy up the copper basin hat, raise your right hand and start slamming the door.

"When-when-when-" is crisp and loud. An old lady with silver hair and a black cardigan opened the door, naturally and alertly: "Which one are you looking for?" ”

The young man took off his brass hat and bowed politely and decently to the old lady: "I want to invite the Ming Zen master Bu Shangyi." The old lady's face was immediately full of chrysanthemum-like smiles, and a series of polite and enthusiastic "please-please-please" sounded, taking excited little steps and shouting into the room: "Zhi'an, Zhi'an, there are guests coming." ”

The sound of the wooden fish stopped, the blue coarse cloth curtain in front of the window opened a gap, and the sunlight squeezed in, and the young man followed the old lady's footsteps. A large flower cat "whizzed" in front of his eyes, and the young man hit a spirit as if he were defenseless. Entering the room, I saw that everywhere was simple and quiet, and the walls were prominently decorated with yin and yang gossip patterns, a writing desk, and a rattan chair. On the writing desk, there is a purple sand tea set, and on the rattan chair sits an old man called "Zhi'an", a worldly high-ranking person. White Joe Yun gauze undershirt. Goatee beard, white. Slender long face. Pointed nose. Gray hair.

"Young people go to great lengths to find the old decay, do they ask for a sign or a fortune teller?" The old man's eyes were sharp, revealing a standard mouthful of black opium teeth, and inside it was a golden tooth that was still half-glittering with a pipa.

The young man stood with his head bowed, and Bi Gongbi said, "Old sir, I just came down from the countryside to Shanghai, and I came to find you to arrange fortunes." ”

The old man's sharp gaze scanned the young man up and down: "Since you and I have a relationship, I will give you a trigram and report the birthday eight characters." ”

The young man was even more respectful: "The surname is Wu, the mouth is Wu, and the name is Pengcheng." 19 years old, chicken. ”

The old man twisted a handful of goat beards, narrowed his eyes, and was confident: "Are you looking for a job in Shanghai?" ”

The young man nodded frequently when he heard it: "The old man is really a living immortal who is worthy of the name, and I have this intention, and I plan to walk up to the Xinzha Road Bridge to ask you to take a look." ”

The old man twisted the sparse beard with his thin fingers again, and then pinched his fingers: "Young man, rest assured, you are a thousand miles, fortune, official luck, peach blossom luck, luck and prosperity, it is really a promising future!" ”

The young man was very excited, and his voice trembled: Thank you old sir, thank you old man. The old man laughed loudly, laughing so much that the hut seemed to tremble with it, and the gold chain around his neck shrugged like a golden snake that was squirming and crawling.

The young man took Xie Yin from his pocket with trembling hands, and at the same time, he tilted the big flower cat at his feet, and his face showed a look of timidity and uneasiness. The old man immediately bent down and picked up the big flower cat, and the gold pocket watch tied with the gold chain shook out of the inside of the round neck undershirt.

The young man put his hands on the thank-you gift, his face was ashamed, "Let the old man see the smile, late afraid that the cat is a problem that fell from childhood", turned to leave, and then turned back and bowed: Old man, I will rush to the new gate road bridge now, please ask what time is it, is it still too late? ”

The old man picked up the gold pocket watch again, carefully opened the lid, picked up the reading glasses on the writing desk, and leaned back to report the exact time.

The young man silently glanced at the head of the emperor wearing a royal hat engraved on the cover of the watch, and the corners of his mouth were not easily noticed.

Two hours later, the young man in a yellow coarse cloth military uniform and two other comrades dressed in the same attire knocked again on the door of the Marius apartment. This long-robed young man with a jade body was Lu Quanfa, a soldier of the People's Liberation Army, who was ordered to investigate and investigate the facts according to the various characteristics reported by the masses. The other two warriors were Xia Xianjun and Pan Cheng. At this point, Lei Hengcheng, a blood-debt-laden executioner, traitor, and secret agent named Zhao Zhi'an, was finally arrested.

A few months later, on April 26, 1953, the gunshots of justice finally rang out, ending the life of this national scum.

A Tree Column| The Old Man Who Sells Fortune (Short Novel)
A Tree Column| The Old Man Who Sells Fortune (Short Novel)

About author:Guo Xiaolan, net name one tree, teacher of Yuncheng County Experimental Middle School, member of Heze Writers Association, member of Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Society.

One Point Heart Dream Literature

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