The boss smiled and didn't seem to be angry at all. He just thought it was a bit funny.
A person's temperament and aura are often more credible than his words.
“Ss ...
With a crisp sound, and a slightly lingering sound, like a snake shedding its skin, he began to tear off his skin.
At the same time, the boss's frame was slowly shrinking and his physique was slowly getting thinner, like a balloon with a small hole in it that was slowly deflating.
Zhou Ze now finally understood why the bowl of noodles was cooked so badly.
This kind of "transformation" of the other party does take some time.
He was still wearing the boss's clothes and an apron, but his face had turned into that of a slightly immature young man.
The young man had a smile on his lips, and he looked naturally charming, especially the curve at the corners of his eyes, which seemed to be able to tickle the hearts of men and women around him, just right and appropriate.
It is somewhat inappropriate to describe a man as "charming", but some men are indeed born with charm. For example, there were countless emperors in ancient times who liked homosexuality. The reason is indeed that some men are more like women than women.
"Am I good looking?"
The young man asked Zhou Ze.
Zhou Ze felt the nausea that he had just suppressed after eating the noodles coming back again. He waved his hands apologetically, then covered his chest and made a gesture as if to say I can't vomit.
Who knows that every grain of food on the plate is hard-earned!
Zhou Ze knew how to cherish food, especially the food that he had swallowed with great difficulty and was about to be digested into energy for his body.
The young man sat down on a chair nearby, holding a lighter in his hand and spinning it around casually.
He was looking at Zhou Ze because Zhou Ze had discovered him. He thought his imitation was natural and since it was in a snack bar, there shouldn't be any problems.
Most importantly,
He imitated his own parents.
Since he was young, he has been observing his parents, and his parents' every move and every expression has long been engraved in his heart.
"How did you find me?" the young man couldn't help asking.
"You're not a ghost?"
Zhou Ze also asked the question at the same time.
The young man frowned slightly. He thought Zhou Ze was mocking him and saying that he was playing tricks.
But in fact, Zhou Ze thought he was a ghost from the very beginning.
Zhou Ze didn't want to meddle in other people's business. As a man who was struggling for the money for a freezer not long ago, Zhou Ze didn't think he had the qualifications to meddle in other people's business.
But we can't just ignore this trivial matter.
The trouble happened right next door.
So Zhou Ze thought that no matter what, he should just expose the problem first. If it is easy to solve, he can solve it himself. If it is not easy to solve, he can just move away.
"Your nails." Zhou Ze said, "I am a little sensitive to nails."
The lady boss brought the noodles to him.
The boss personally handed me a cigarette.
The nails are all presented in front of you.
Although the thickness, whiteness, and degree of calluses on fingers vary, the lines on the nails are the same.
During this period, Zhou Ze paid more attention to nails, not only his own nails, but also other people's nails.
The young man narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling lost. The details were not well done.
Although I have the intention to slack off, once it is discovered, it will indeed be my own fault.
"Are you really not a ghost?" Zhou Ze asked again.
If it were a human, it would be a bit exaggerated.
In fact, Zhou Ze didn’t see many ghosts. If we leave out the journey in hell, the number of ghosts he saw in the world of the living can really be counted on one hand.
“Painting skin is a skill passed down from my ancestors.” The young man stood up, reached out and grabbed Zhou Ze’s hand, and placed it on his chest. “It’s just that it has been discontinued for many generations, and it’s only in my generation that we can pick it up again.”
This action was a bit ambiguous and a bit unconventional, but Zhou Ze still pinched it subconsciously.
Zhou Ze would never think that it was because Dr. Lin had been preventing him from sleeping that he became interested in men.
Of course, the man in front of me is indeed more charming than the woman, this is indeed a fact.
"No bones?" Zhou Ze showed surprise on his face, "No, it's osteomalacia."
Rickets, also known as osteomalacia, is a disease caused by calcium deficiency that hinders bone calcification, causing the bones to become soft and easily deformed. Zhou Ze used to be a doctor, so he naturally knew something about it. But just as even a cold can be divided into many conditions and many different pathologies, osteomalacia also has many subcategories, and the young man in front of him should be an extreme.
According to legend, there are records in the unofficial history of the Spring and Autumn Period that a prince of the State of Lu suffered from this disease. He was as if he had no bones, his body was delicate, and he could walk like a human and crawl like a snake.
"You can think of it as a genetic disease that requires a certain probability to manifest. Many generations of my family have never been able to become a Painted Skin because they didn't have this disease, but I..."
The young man smiled and didn't continue.
"So, you are really not a ghost?" Zhou Ze still didn't give up.
"My name is Xu Qinglang." The young man answered seriously.
"Who are you imitating?" Zhou Ze asked.
"Dad, Mom."
Zhou Ze was stunned for a moment and smiled bitterly.
OK,
This is a big misunderstanding.
After eating noodles, Sister Lin left. Zhou Ze wanted to break the window paper and deliberately provoked her with words, but he didn't expect that she was just doing nothing and playing role-playing here to commemorate her deceased relatives.
But from Zhou Ze's previous perspective, he just took it for granted that this was a ghost, similar to the ghost in the "Painted Skin" story, who killed people, peeled off the skin, and still "dressed up as a human".
"Well... I'm sorry."
I feel a little embarrassed to make fun of your mother.
"I'm not angry." Xu Qinglang said, "But I'm curious, what does it mean that you keep treating me like a ghost?"
"It's nothing."
"Have you seen a ghost?" Xu Qinglang asked.
"I am a ghost." Zhou Ze looked at Xu Qinglang and said seriously.
His expression was serious and solemn.
It's from the bottom of my heart.
Xu Qinglang's face froze.
Then he couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Looking towards Zhou Ze,
It's like looking at a mentally retarded person.
Zhou Ze nodded. Sometimes, it’s like this. You tell him the truth, and you think you are teasing him, but he doesn’t believe it.
"Anyway, I'm sorry. By the way, I also want to ask, is that human skin real human skin?" Zhou Ze asked curiously.
"Fish skin." Xu Qinglang replied, "Processed, painted, and made."
"Then what noodles are you selling?" Zhou Ze was a little confused. "I heard that the snakeskin clothes of the Hezhe people can be sold for a lot of money and sold as works of art. Yours should be more valuable, right?"
"I can't make a profit from something passed down from my ancestors."
"Then you should be very rich." Zhou Ze said.
"My house was just demolished." Xu Qinglang didn't answer directly, "We were given more than 20 houses."
“… …” Zhou Ze took a deep breath.
So, the world is so unfair. He worked in a hospital in his previous life and worked so hard but didn't make much money, while others can easily own more than 20 houses.
Tongcheng is not as expensive as Shanghai, but the housing price is close to 10,000 yuan per square meter.
The second generation is demolished, I’m so envious.
Zhou Ze shook his head, "Are you going to continue making noodles in the future?"
“Will you continue to sell books in the future?”
The two asked each other questions at the same time.
"Let's wait and see for now." Zhou Ze replied.
"Me too."
"Well, see you later. By the way, do you have other flavors of sour plum juice?" Zhou Ze was very curious about this. "For example, bitter melon flavor? Grape flavor?"
"I have a secret recipe. You can make it." Xu Qinglang was very honest.
"Very good." Zhou Ze reached out and patted Xu Qinglang on the shoulder.
Damn it,
Like cotton,
So soft, so weak and boneless, if I hold her in my arms and lie on the bed...
Zhou Ze immediately brought up the image of Dr. Lin coming out of the shower in his pajamas in his mind, and forcibly suppressed his discordant thoughts.
Zhou Ze walked out of the noodle shop.
Xu Qinglang walked into the inner room, opened the curtain, and said to the woman's skin hanging inside:
"Mom, do you think he really believed it or just pretended to believe it?"
The woman's skin sways gently,
Slightly sway,
As if to say, he didn't believe it.
It also seemed to be saying that she didn't know either.
… … …
Zhou Ze returned to his store and found that the freezer had been put in place. The next step was to renovate the shabby bookstore left by Xu Le. It was not a good idea to let it continue to lose money.
The sign at the door of the bookstore reads "Xu Le Bookstore", and it is as rustic as it can be.
In short, this bookstore, in that guy's hands, exudes an aura of "definitely losing money" from top to bottom, inside and out.
Zhou Ze sat in front of the computer and tried to log into his original QQ several times, but he was unable to log in. The identity verification could not be passed at all, and there was basically no way to appeal.
Afterwards, Zhou Ze had no choice but to go out and take a taxi. He planned to change the sign or put up a pair of doorplate couplets here.
He knew a man who ran a plaque shop that specialized in wood-carved plaques. The owner was an old man who often donated money to the orphanage. When Zhou Ze was also a member of the orphanage, the old man had already donated money. After Zhou Ze got a job, the old man donated money together with Zhou Ze.
The plaque shop is not far away, just at the foot of Wolf Mountain. There are shops selling incense and candles all around it, but this one sells plaques.
However, when Zhou Ze walked in, he found that the store was undergoing a major cleaning and even the signboard had been taken down.
A middle-aged man was directing the workers there.
"Who are you?" the other party asked when he saw Zhou Ze walking over.
"I'm looking for Mr. Zhao." Zhou Ze said. He had great respect for the old man.
"I'm sorry, my father just passed away last month." The middle-aged man replied.
"Gone?" Zhou Ze was a little surprised and a little sad. He and Mr. Zhao were not actually familiar with each other. They just knew each other. Therefore, it was normal that he was not notified of the funeral.
Moreover, for Mr. Zhao’s family, Mr. Zhao has always donated the income from making plaques to the orphanage. Naturally, they have no good feelings towards the orphanage. They will not even notify the orphanage of the funeral, for fear that the orphanage will come to them for money again.
"Are you here to order a plaque?" asked the middle-aged man.
"Yeah." Zhou Ze nodded.
"We don't do this anymore." The middle-aged man apologized, "From now on, we'll sell incense and candles."
Langshan is one of the ten small Buddhist mountains. Even if it does not attract foreign tourists, the fact that locals go there to burn incense and worship Buddha during festivals is enough for the shops and merchants located at the foot of the mountain to make a fortune.
This is also a way of living off the land and living off the water.
"That's a pity." Zhou Ze felt a little regretful.
He planned to go to the old man's tombstone to take a look.
"But I still have a few plaques my father made at home that I can't sell. I don't know what my father carved those plaques for, and they are not custom-made. If you like them, I can sell them to you at a lower price." The middle-aged man planned to dispose of them with the intention of selling scraps.
"Okay, let me take a look." Zhou Ze agreed.
I followed the middle-aged man to the small yard at the back. The middle-aged man opened a warehouse and turned on the lights.
There are some sundries inside, including tools used by Mr. Zhao for work, piled up in a disorderly manner, which means that his descendants do not intend to inherit this craft.
Now everyone makes glowing cards, who would want to use this? It's hard work, but you don't make much money.
"Huh..." The middle-aged man blew a breath at the plaques on the ground and said, "Take a look. Two hundred yuan a pair. If you like them, you can take them. If you don't like them, forget it."
Obviously, the middle-aged man had no confidence in whether he could give away these plaques.
Zhou Ze walked over and took a look.
The first plaque reads:
"Life and death are determined by fate, wealth and honor are determined by heaven."
Zhou Ze shook his head and the middle-aged man sighed, knowing that there was no hope for this plaque.
The next one reads:
"People know that ghosts are scary, but ghosts know that people's hearts are vicious."
Zhou Ze was slightly stunned. He was a little sensitive about this.
The middle-aged man didn't sigh this time, because he knew there was no hope. Who would hang this at the door of a store if they had nothing better to do
Third mate:
"Just listen to it, this is what I heard."
Zhou Ze smiled.
The middle-aged man looked at Zhou Ze and smiled, and he smiled too.
There is always one person who is satisfied.