Fatty looked at me, and I said to Fatty, "I don't know anything, and I don't know why this blood is useful. Come with me now." After that, we both rushed into the yard.
I lowered my bleeding hand, approached the ground, and moved forward, avoiding all the bugs, not even a single bug on our body, and walked smoothly to the gate of the yard.
The strange thing is that there is not a single worm outside the yard. The fat man turned around and closed the door and said, "Damn, I have to put a note on the door to tell others that there are evil worms in it. These worms are really good, they like to stay in the yard. Let's evacuate."
"Don't be poor, we have to find a place to rest first, otherwise my blood will be drained." I said, "The cut was too deep just now, we went down the mountain for such a long distance, if the blood does not stop I will definitely die halfway up the mountain."
Che himself is also a scholar. The little brother can cut himself so aggressively, it is estimated that he has suffered a lot before.
The fat man looked at my hand, which was covered in blood, and said, "It's a waste, you really don't know how expensive firewood, rice, oil and salt are. Where are we going now?"
I said, "We have to go to the yard with the statue of the little brother. ".
The fat man asked, "Why?"
I said, "I don't know, I always think it's safer to have a little brother. If he's not there, at least a statue of him would be better than no statue." The
fat man said, "Fuck you . It's too superstitious." He left before me, and I thought to myself, why should I erect a statue for the little brother, is it because the little brother once repelled the insect soldiers here?
Anyway, in my heart, the little brother's statue is where Places should be more or less different.
What I didn't think of at the time was that this different thing gave us more headaches.
Moving on, I found no bugs anywhere else in the entire lama temple. We ran all the way to the little brother's statue. By this time, it was already dawn, and it was the first time Fatty saw the real face of the statue.
Fatty looked at it, felt strange, and said, "Damn it, why does the little brother here look so sad?"
I said, "Don't worry about it, let's see how I'm hurt."
We entered a room, because it was deserted and there was no charcoal stove in it, and our faces were turning blue from the cold. I checked the fat man's back and my body as fast as I could, and found that the bugs didn't do us much harm. Although their heads were pointed and could burrow into our skin, they didn't seem to want to really He burrowed his head into it, but wanted to suck some blood. There were a few bugs on the fat man who were already full of blood. I slapped it with my hand, and my hands were covered in blood. And the bugs on me were all dead, I didn't have time to clean them up one by one, so I had to shoot the most annoying ones. There must be a lot more on my back, but I really have no choice, and I thought to myself: Fuck, this lama is so vicious, let's take off our clothes, so that these bugs can suck our blood.
The fat man treated the wound on my hand. My hands were horrible, the blood was sticking to the palms of my hands, and the blood was still flowing out. Fatty tied my wrist tightly with his belt to stop the bleeding, then opened my wound and said, "Why don't you just chop your hand, you can see that it almost cuts to the back of your hand. This requires stitches, fat. Although I am good at sewing, I don't have the equipment here. Fat man, I can only use the earth method."
"What do you want?" I watched the fat man take out the pistol, opened the magazine, and began to bite with his teeth.
"You want to use fire again."
"Trust me, it works." The fat man unscrewed the bullet, put the gunpowder in the bullet aside, wiped the blood off my hands with his pants, and slammed it with his hands. Press the wound, and then pour all the gunpowder on it.
I still remember that kind of pain now. It is definitely not something that can be described as sprinkling salt on the wound. What is more painful than sprinkling salt is sprinkling gunpowder on the wound.
After the spraying, I almost fainted, and the fat man asked me, "Where's the fire?"
I took out a lighter and gave it to him.
"Hey, the quality of the gunpowder is not good."
I was sweating coldly from the pain. When I looked at the palm of my hand, the gunpowder was all soaked with blood, but the blood really stopped flowing. It's hard to come back.
At this time, I looked at these bugs carefully and found that they were not fireflies, but a very strange little beetle.
The fat guy closed the windows and everything and came to deal with the dead bugs on my back. I looked at the bloodless hand, and just as I was relieved, I suddenly heard the windows of this house begin to vibrate. We looked at the window, and the dense shadows we just saw were crawling outside the window at some time, but the shape seemed to be different from what we just saw.
Why did it suddenly appear again? Even if the bugs gather, shouldn't there be a process? Why does it happen every time?
This time, we didn't hesitate any more. , close the door immediately. The insects that squeezed in through the cracks of the door went straight to us, and I suddenly realized that this time it was another insect that flew in. These bugs are a bit like mosquitoes, but they look even weirder. They have two very large wings, and their heads are pointed. They are much bigger than the beetles just now.
Fatty slapped the worms in the air, and slapped the worms directly to the ground. The worms flew up again. He waved his hand down and directly held the worms in his hand. Fatty let out an "ah", and immediately opened his palms to find that the worm's sharp mouth had been inserted directly into the palm of his hand.
"Fuck, don't touch this thing, this thing is more powerful than before!" Fatty said.
I just can't get it, now it's like a bug party and it's all weird bugs.
We slapped the bugs to the ground and stomped them to death, and I found that the bugs didn't seem to be afraid of my blood.
However, the number of bugs here is less than the ones just now, so we quickly reinforced the windows and used a lot of waste to block the gaps in the windows. more and more powerful.
Suddenly, I heard someone shouting in the yard. "Help... help..." I was shocked, and the fat man scolded: "Fuck, this worm can talk."
I heard that the sound was different, and thought to myself: Maybe the statue of the little brother came to life, the statue was calling for help. Bang... Suddenly the door was knocked open, and a man covered in blood rolled in from outside and fell to the ground, covered in all kinds of bugs.
"Little brother?" I almost cried out, "Is the statue really alive?"