The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 876: Ink and Blood
A woman covered in patches.

Her hair was braided and tied up, revealing her thick and broad arms. Her palms were as thick as horse hooves, and the joints of each radish were incredibly large.

outrageous.

It's not as good as it seems, but I have a pretty good-looking face.

This is also the reason why Zhou Xiang married her.

but.

starting today.

He saw something different.

Something black and ink-like covered the woman's face and body, like a strange laugh that did not interfere with the view of her plump figure, pushing people forward with all their effort.

Women flaunt black veils.

Zhou Xiang raised his elbow and half raised his body to look around.

He called the man over and touched his neck.

Palm through.

A layer of "black veil" that only he could see made the increasingly stout woman regain a touch of seductive mystery.

"The boss?"

The woman called out.

Zhou Xiang came back to his senses and did not mention the matter of the black veil. He smiled, put down his pipe temporarily, put his arm around the woman's arm, and pulled her into his arms.

"The girl is still in the room..."

The woman struggled and pushed weakly a few times, but her strong arms and legs were no match for the man's strong strength, and she fell headfirst into his arms.

"You are...quiet at night..."

The candle wax dropped twice.

After about forty breaths, the pipe was picked up again.

Like a victorious general, the man who had satisfied his urge to kill leaned his arms, and when he had caught his breath, he felt the hindrances around him.

"Go get a basin of water."

The woman rolled her eyes at him and got off the couch with her hands in her pockets.

After a while.

Wait for her to bring the basin of water.

There was no one on the bed.

"The boss?"

…………

……

"Zhou Dalu!"

"Ai."

"Is the master here?"

"I'm coming."

Greeting people along the way and carrying a cigarette pipe.

The cloth shoes scraped against the road surface, raising a lot of dust, just like the entourage of a high-ranking official when he traveled.

Zhou Xiang nodded with a smile, without deciding where to go. He just stood under the eaves and watched the pedestrians and carriages passing by.

Some people in military uniforms marched past in a line.

The world, which should have been gray, was filled with a bright red dust.

Everyone is stained with cinnabar.

Some more, some less.

Like fluttering flags, or burning torches.

"Where are we going?"

He spat on the ground, spread the saliva evenly with the sole of his shoe, and asked the two people who were chatting under the tea umbrella.

"What's the point of having such big ears?"

The older man was also smoking a pipe: "There's a war! Don't you know? People in your room come out to work every day, but you don't even show up. It's really this--" The old man gave a thumbs up.

Zhou Xiang smiled awkwardly.

This old man's son drives the carriage for the younger brother of a concubine of a high-ranking official. No one dares to mess with him on this street.

"I'll take a rest for three to five days..."

"Three to five months, right?" The old man with gray hair and beard glanced at Zhou Xiang, but he didn't look at him straight in the eye: "Your wife is as tired as a donkey, while the donkey that should be working hard is having a good time."

Zhou Xiang said nothing, picked up the pipe and started to puff on it.

Sure enough, after just a few words, the other party lost interest and stopped mentioning him.

"When there is a war, the people will suffer."

The round-faced old man sitting opposite him didn't think so. He wanted to slap the table in half: "Beat him! Beat his mother! This Westerner is like a wild dog that has eaten human blood. He will only learn to be obedient after his legs are broken..." The older man turned around and shook his head slightly.

Although he lowered his voice, Zhou Xiang still heard it clearly.

"…You really think they are all elite warriors who have won every battle."

"what?"

The round-faced old man sensed something was wrong with this and also lost his temper: "Don't talk nonsense."

The older man raised his eyelids and silently started applying the ointment.

The round-faced old man looked around and leaned forward: "The notices are all posted! We won three games! Defeating them with ease!"

"You know a few words, but you still say 'crushing with ease'..." The older one sneered: "You didn't use the wrong word, it just depends on where you put it..."

Zhou Xiang listened silently and turned to the rear of the team that was raising a cloud of dust.

Soon, the soldiers turned the corner and disappeared with messy footsteps.

fight…

Zhou Xiang didn't care who won or lost. He turned the pipe like a treasure, put it on his waist, and stepped out with the tea umbrella.

"Come out and work!"

The gray-haired old man behind him told him:

"He has a good skill, but he only makes you suffer in your house... Look at his behavior..."

Zhou Xiang looked around a few times until he could no longer see the umbrella, then he spat viciously onto the ground.

"Old immortal..."

He turned around and went into the smoking room.

The hospitality was much more hospitable than any inn or teahouse. As soon as I pushed open the door, two waiters came over to hand me a hot towel, asking about my health and well-being, and every sentence I said started and ended with "ye".

"Here."

Zhou Xiang took out a number plate.

I was led into the compartment.

After serving cakes and tea, the familiar man, with his shirt half-undone, stepped onto the couch with his bag of ointment in his hand.

Not confirmed either.

She just hung there, waiting for her grandfather to speak.

"Didn't I give you a hairpin last time?"

The woman was covered in moisture, just like the busiest street in London after a heavy rain. This familiar yet strange smell once again activated Zhou Xiang's soldier, who had been sleeping for half an hour and could now hold his head high and charge for forty breaths.

He put away his pipe, freed his hands, and prepared to stir up panic among the people.

Forty breaths passed in the blink of an eye.

After shivering in the small room as the weather turned warmer, Zhou Xiang finally stretched out on the couch comfortably, like a quilt that had been stretched tight all day - it was much more comfortable than at home.

"Master."

The woman knelt on the step and gently massaged his legs - forty breaths seemed to have exhausted her strength, and her voice was hoarse from begging for mercy. Now, even the word "Master" sounded hoarse.

"Ok?"

The man who enjoyed the quietness raised his eyelids.

“…This month, it’s time.”

The woman lowered her head and looked submissive, as if she was talking about a man who was lame or a woman who had stolen a man - all trivial gossip that was not worth mentioning.

Zhou Xiang subconsciously tightened his legs.

The woman who was concentrating on combing her meridians didn't seem to notice or feel anything. She just used her soft little hands to step deep and shallow.

Zhou Xiang discovered it when he came in.

Ying'er's body was also covered with a layer of color - but not red, but a layer of faint "ink".

Just like the people in his room.

Thinking back to the soldiers he met when he set out earlier, the "blood gourds" passing by on the streets, and the red and black everywhere, he had an indescribable feeling - it must not be that his eyes were damaged.

Who can damage their eyes by smoking?
"gone."

He picked up his pipe and the half-opened oil paper bag on the table.

"Master?"

"I'll come to exchange for a monthly ticket tomorrow. I'll pick you to go then, but don't complain about being exhausted..."

The woman wiped her sweaty hair and pushed him away with an angry look.

It wasn't dark yet.

The streets are bustling.

Except for the "ink" and "cinnabar" everywhere.

What the hell is going on?

(End of this chapter)