The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 11 The Burned Puppet, Do You Hate Humanity?

The old man manipulated the puppet and sang at the same time, looking down at the puppet with a look that was half loving, half satisfied, and some deeper emotion that Shen Le could not tell for the time being.

Even if there was no one in the audience, even if the sunlight came in through the high windows, illuminating the infinite dust particles floating in the air, his singing voice was still high and powerful, full of heart and eyes, and intoxicated. It was as if the audience was full, and it was as if this was the last performance left in this life.

Suddenly, the sound waves outside the theater came closer and closer, getting louder and louder. The old man listened attentively to the repetitive slogans, his face full of worry. Finally, he wrapped up the puppet, held it in his arms, and walked out quietly:

He walked into the backstage, passed through the alley, dragged out a worn iron basin from the utility room, and then went to a square space at the foot of the wall. He threw in firewood, lit the flames, watched the flames rise, hesitated again and again, picked up the puppet several times, and hugged it tightly in his arms several times:
Slogans continued to be heard through the wall. Mixed with the sound of hammers hitting the wall, the thud of heavy objects falling to the ground, and the cheers of the crowd. The old man finally stopped hesitating, gritted his teeth, and threw the puppet and its bag into the iron basin.

The flames suddenly rose up and engulfed the cloth wrapped around the puppet. The flames rolled, and the cloth was charred, cracked, and turned into ashes. Sparks flew one by one, almost licking the old man's hair and beard, but the old man did not intend to dodge at all. He knelt in front of the brazier, staring at the puppet inside without blinking, and chanted softly:
"I have to fulfill my responsibilities while I am alive. How can I let an inch of land belong to others..."

He sang these heroic lyrics in a gentle and sad way, as if he could only use this way to send his beloved Pinocchio off on his last journey. The wrapping caught fire and soon spread to the puppet itself. The brocade clothes caught fire and burned fiercely, and even the wood made crackling sounds.

The old man stared at the puppet in the fire without blinking, watching his clothes catch fire, watching the wood catch fire, his cheeks twitching slightly. Suddenly, a whirlwind swirled out of nowhere, rolling up a piece of rag and smearing it on his face. The old man could no longer bear it, and screamed heartbreakingly, overturned the iron basin, and pulled the burning puppet out with his bare hands!

The puppet fell to the ground, and its clothes, hands and feet were still burning. The old man took off his clothes and slapped them hard, but the fire did not decrease at all, and instead rolled up his clothes. The other side of the wall seemed to be alarmed, and noisy voices approached.

The old man made up his mind, threw himself to the ground, hugged the puppet, and rolled on the ground, using his body to put out the flames. After rolling back and forth seven or eight times, the flames were finally extinguished, and the old man's clothes on his chest were burned through several pieces, with black blisters on them.

He seemed to feel no pain, holding the puppet tightly in his arms and walking back slowly. His expression seemed to be both happy and sad, and his singing voice was as thin as a gossamer, but it didn't stop:
"What's the use of talking about the princes and clowns? My sword can defeat... a million soldiers..."

A drop of bright red blood fell on the puppet's white cheek like a tear.

Shen Le stood in front of the workbench, with the disassembled puppet lying quietly in front of him. He stretched out his fingers and gently stroked the burnt part of the puppet's right arm, feeling mixed emotions:

"So that's it..."

Is this your experience?

Is this your memory?
He was taken away, burned, thrown into the fire by his own owner, and when he was almost burned, he was rescued by his owner...

How do you feel about your master?
What are your feelings towards humans?
Did the child who jumped off the building have anything to do with you? Did you lead those three children who ran into the house and slept on the big camphor tree for the whole night?
He held the puppet in his palm, observing it carefully and asking silently. On Nanhua Street, the baby-faced boy and the young man in Tang suits were already counting the house numbers, and walked step by step to his front door:

"No. 14... No. 16... No. 18... Nanhua Street... This is it. Wow, what a big house! Brother, shall we go knock on the door?"

"Wait..." The young man in Tang suit looked down at the compass in his hand, his face becoming more and more solemn, even nervous. The baby-faced boy glanced at him, lowered his head and muttered something, then pointed at his forehead. Then he looked up at the door of the house, and after just one glance, he screamed:
"Oh! my eyes!—my eyes!"

In the eyes of ordinary people, No. 18 Nanhua Road is just an old house. You can find seven or eight of them in any ancient town, ancient street, or tourist area. Ordinary people can enter, the police can enter, and even children who have not graduated from elementary school can climb over the wall and run in to play. They don't feel any danger at all.

However, when the young Zhang Bingxin opened his spiritual eyes to see, he saw two completely different scenes:

The evil spirit in that house was like a cloud or a mountain. Although it did not radiate outward, it was like a solid wall that could not allow outsiders to peek in. As for what means they wanted to use to investigate, if they made any move, they would face the counterattack of the evil spirit.

Just now, he just took a look with his spiritual eyes, and was reflected by the evil spirit in the house. Tears flowed down his face, and his vision is still blurry now.

"The owner of this house is not someone we can mess with." The senior brother examined the junior brother, put a few drops of eye drops in his eyes, and warned him with a serious face:
"Let's go and think of a solution. Either ask our master to help, or... wait, the child has been found! The police found him in this house!"

"Thank God, we don't have to try to force our way in. As for the puppet, well, we should think of another way..."

The puppet lay quietly, neither moving nor making any sound, just like an ordinary toy that could not ask for help or bring back memories. Shen Le looked at it for a while, sighed, and had no choice but to grab a pen and start painting:
He didn't know how to trigger this memory again, nor did he know if he could watch it again. While he still had some memory, he quickly drew the details of the wooden board of the marionette, and then drew the red skirt of the marionette!
The red skirt has been burnt to ashes. If I don’t draw it, I will have nowhere to find a similar style in the future!

Drawing is a basic skill for ancient building restoration. Drawing the wood board, drawing the skirt, and drawing the puppet's makeup. Shen Le finished drawing and sighed at the makeup on the paper:
How do I draw this?

What materials should be used for painting?
What should I do if a painting fails?
If you ask him to carve a puppet head, he can barely do it, and maybe he can do it well with more practice. But if you ask him to put makeup on a puppet and restore its appearance, I'm sorry, he really can't do it -

In college, he never even had a girlfriend, let alone helping people put on makeup at comic conventions!
Fortunately, there is the omnipotent Internet. Shen Lefei rushed online, searched for a long time, checked the logistics progress on Taobao, and quickly placed a few more orders:
Gypsum powder!
Resin clay!

Polymer clay!

And the most important thing:
Three-point bjd makeup practice head, special price version, come first for a dozen!
　Thanks to @新肥肥阿风 for the 1000 starting coins

　　Thanks to @书友140510152930780 for the 500 starting coins reward

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(End of this chapter)