His feet were all broken, and his eyes were blind. Could it be that this girl was the mount of the King of Hell? The
oil bottle was too familiar with corpses. This girl must be a living person, and he had some ominous premonitions. He has a certain understanding of King Yama riding a corpse, but he does not understand why the girl appears here in this state? Is she a sacrifice to King Yama? Or is it some kind of ceremony?
While thinking about it, the smell on the other side became more intense, and the stuffy oil bottle heard the girl's painful moans, but through all kinds of felts, he couldn't see the specific situation. The stuffy oil bottle is not curious about these, and if he is elsewhere, he will definitely ignore them, but everything here is related to his purpose.
Where exactly is this place, and who are these Tibetans, he must know. The stuffy oil bottle went over and found a corner. Through the gap between the felts, he saw that the stove placed near the girl seemed to be burning, and the strange smell and the smell of Tibetan incense were mixed violently. .
For some reason, the girl showed considerable pain, and it seemed that these smells were strongly irritating to her. The stuffy oil bottle walked over slowly, and found that the girl's face had turned blue-gray, just like the color of the female corpse carved with silver foil in the pictures on the felt. The girl has lost her mind and has been moaning in pain, and there are strange little incense burners beside her. He carefully opened a censer and found a strange powder burning inside, giving off a strong smell.
He looked around, his fingers got stuck in the cracks in the floor, and with a force, he tore off a wooden thorn. He stirred the powder and found that there were many fine bones in it. Although it had been ground very finely, it could still be seen that they were aged bones. These powders are ground from Tibetan incense mixed with some dried corpses.
The stuffy oil bottle has never encountered such a thing, and I don't know why. When he looked up at the girl again, he suddenly found that the girl had climbed up, propped on the ground with her elbows and knees, and knelt on the ground naked. The stuffy oil bottle tightened his nerves and grabbed the incense burner with one hand. It was the only weapon he could use near him. With his speed and arm strength, he could at least buy time for him to escape with his hand, but he still had no idea. , because he found that the girl crawled on her elbows and knees very quickly, not at all like a disabled crawling speed.
However, the girl didn't attack him, didn't even look in his direction, but crawled in the other direction.
The stuffy oil bottle followed closely, and when she saw the girl climbed to a wooden staircase, she climbed up instantly, which seemed to lead to the upper floor of the Lama Temple.
The stuffy oil bottle looked behind him. That was the direction from which a few Tibetans came, not the same direction as the girl went. The wooden stairs are particularly large, and the wood used is round wood with the thickness of the bowl. The distance between each section is almost one meter.
The stairs lead to the door above, which is wide enough to pass a Jiefang truck. Felts and ancient yellow satins painted in red Tibetan are hung around the door. Looking through the old color of the satin, it felt like it was at least a few centuries ago. He instinctively felt that this staircase was not for people to walk, because people couldn't climb up the stairs at all, and it was for this girl. So what does this staircase lead to?
Strange felts and spells, and a few Tibetans left in a hurry. There must be something extraordinary here. The stuffy oil bottle pressed down on the stairs, wanting to see if it was firm, but when he pressed his hand, his body jumped up instantly. Instead of walking on the crossbars, he jumped up the long poles on both sides of the stairs.
Before he could reach the yellow satin beside the door, a cold gun slammed into the wood at the little brother's feet, and the whole wood exploded. The little brother reacted very quickly, jumped out at once, grabbed the felt hanging on the side with one hand, and then turned over with his waist. Almost at the same time, the gunshots below sounded in succession, and the bullets all hit the stairs. When the bullets were transferred to the felt, the stuffy oil bottle had been introduced into the felt. He held his breath to see where the gunfire was coming from.
Only the blue light flickered, and it seemed that a person in a blue Tibetan robe was also moving quickly between the felts. The stuffy oil bottle pressed his hand on the ground, and while listening to the voice to identify the direction of the man's movement, he felt if there was anything around him that could protect himself. As soon as his hand touched the floor, a bullet came through several layers of felt, and when the head of the oil bottle was full, the bullet rubbed his ear. He immediately knew that the other party was not an ordinary person, and not a character that was easy to deal with. But the stuffy oil bottle is too experienced to deal with this kind of person. He suddenly stood up and ran almost against the ground, listening to the bullets whistling behind him. In a blink of an eye, he had rushed to a charcoal stove and stepped on the charcoal.
The charcoal ignited a large mass of sparks, and the smoldering oil bottle jumped as high as a person, grabbed a piece of felt, and hung it silently behind the felt like a bat.
Almost at the same time, several bullets hit the charcoal stove, knocking all the charcoal stoves to the ground, and then the man in the blue Tibetan robe rushed over. In this kind of street fighting-style covert shooting, although the shooter has a very powerful weapon, it does not have any information advantage. The best way is to run in the direction of shooting yourself, because the opponent must leave after shooting, and the place where the person being shot leaves must be safe.
Shooters are most affected by the sound of gunfire, and if they miss multiple shots after multiple shots, the chance of getting a sneak attack becomes especially high. Because you don't know how close someone was when you shot. This method is most practical in this seemingly particularly hidden place, but there is no way to cover it with felt. So the man in blue robe instantly ran to the side of the road explorer, and the suffocating oil bottle fell from above almost as soon as he arrived, and his knees suddenly pressed against the shoulders of the man in blue robe.
With his weight plus gravity and speed, the blue-robed man was pressed to his knees in an instant. The stuffy oil bottle turned his waist, but instead of pinching his head tightly, he grabbed his hand and turned it violently. He dragged the pistol clip in his hand. The gun fell to the ground, and the smouldering oil bottle kicked the gun out with the heel. After standing still, I saw who the person was.
Before he could see it clearly, the other party responded very quickly, the hidden knife shot, and a cold light immediately came to the face of the stuffy oil bottle. There is no way to smother the oil bottle with a gun, but if someone wants to fight him, it is really courting death. The stuffy oil bottle let go a little, avoided the blade, and hit the blue-robed man's nose with his fist from the gap of performance. With a muffled sound of his fist hitting the flesh, the blue-robed man fell to the ground.
The stuffy oil bottle squatted down and grabbed the hand of the blue-robed man holding the knife at once. With a little force, the blue-robed man was locked up, while the knife dragged his hand. The stuffy oil bottle looked down, and saw that it was a very young Tibetan youth, only eighteen or nineteen years old at most. The stuffy oil bottle must have known that the sound of the gunfire had already alarmed many people, and he couldn't stay here for long. Just as he was about to knock him unconscious and leave, he saw more Tibetans in blue robes suddenly walking out from behind the felt, there were dozens of them. All with a long gun and pointed at him. The stuffy oil bottle sighed, but saw that all the Tibetans squatted down and did the most respectful etiquette to him.
The so-called most respectful etiquette is actually kneeling and bowing, and then one of the oldest Tibetans in blue robes presents a colorful hada.
Actually, I think it's a very strange scene. The scene of offering hada appears in too many stories, and it has become a very political ceremony, but in Tibet, offering five-colored hada is indeed the highest etiquette.
But the situation just now was very strange. When such a situation suddenly appeared, I felt quite incredible when I read the data again. Then, Luo Dan appeared in front of the Muffled Oil Bottle and said in very proficient Chinese: "We have been waiting for you for a long time, Mr. Zhang, please accept our apology and the Hada we offered." The
Munk Oil Bottle calmly said. Looking at the people around, I saw that Luo Dan took out a yellowed black and white photo from his pocket and handed it over.
"All this was arranged by Mr. Dong, and what he said was absolutely correct." The
photo shows Dong Can in Tibetan clothes. The stuffy oil bottle took it and turned it to the back, and saw a line: "The secret is here, they can help you."