cannibal chief to fast

Chapter 18

The patriarch was silent, as if thinking about something.Because he heard Little Furong say that she was afraid of pain.

How to do it?Little Furong is afraid of pain.How can I make Little Furong less painful?

Of course, he was referring to the time when Little Furong was slaughtered.

At that time, it will be very painful if you need to use a knife, if you need to see blood, if you need to pull out bones and skin, if you need to cut flesh and tendons, it will be very painful.

what to do?What should Little Furong do if she is afraid of pain?What should I do so that Little Furong won't be so painful?

Is there any way to keep him from hurting?Under anesthesia?Sleeping pills?Or just knocked out?But what if you wake up in the middle of the pain?

Or maybe, it's over...

Finished?Then since then, there will be no such person as Little Furong in the world?

So, never see him again?

The patriarch has been depressed for several days, like a child who is trapped by life's major events but has got into a dead end.

Cigarettes, one pack after another.Man, like a "bass" smoker.

The dark circles under the eyes are getting thicker.White hair, a few hairs.

Little Furong was very worried, worried that his brother had encountered some difficult hurdles and wanted to spoil herself like this.

One day, he asked the patriarch anxiously: "Brother, what's the matter with you recently? Is there anything bothering you? Or...you can't afford me?"

The patriarch was still smoking and ignored him.

Not even looking straight at him.

Little Furong added sadness to her worries.

His brother ignored him, smoked fiercely, and became irritable, which confirmed his thoughts——

My brother doesn't want to support me anymore, he's annoying me, he hates me, and he's going to throw me away.

Little Furong: ┬_┬ wants to cry, wants to cry.

Realizing that she was not welcome, little Furong tugged at the corner of the patriarch's clothes, and asked humbly, "Brother, can you really afford me? Or... am I a burden to you?"

Patriarch OS: (￣^￣) Laozi’s net worth can support you until 3019 AD.

Throwing the cigarette butt into the ashtray, he pulled out a new one and kept on smoking, hard.

Smoking at this moment is not because I want to make myself think more calmly, but because I want to make myself say that sentence hard.

Halfway through the smoke, the patriarch turned his head and sprayed little Furong's face with smoke.

Little Furong coughed twice due to choking, and vaguely saw that the patriarch said to him while swallowing: "Yes, you are my burden."

Every word of this sentence is like a piece of broken porcelain scattered on the ground, and the sound of the landing is clear and piercing.

Little Furong didn't make a sound, and couldn't utter a single word.

He was sad, but he didn't dare to cry, make trouble, let alone act like a baby.

Little Furong turned back silently and went back to the room without saying a word.

Throughout the afternoon, he was doing housework: sweeping and mopping the floor, washing clothes, cleaning the table, tidying the living room...

Six hours later, it was dusk, and the setting sun climbed over the old tree branches.

Little Furong was still working non-stop, every movement was earnest and persistent.

In fact, he was very tired, exhausted, and sweating profusely.

The patriarch smoked for six hours on the balcony, pack after pack, and the ashtray was filled with burnt cigarette butts.

With his own power, the man increased his chance of lung cancer by 30.00%.

He walked into the living room, trying to pretend to ignore Little Furong's existence.

But even every pore, every hair, and every inch of skin on that person's body has a sense of existence, and every movement of his hands and feet is deeply affecting his heart.

Little Furong saw the patriarch coming in, so she worked harder, like an automatic mopping machine at full power.

The patriarch saw that little Furong's lips were turning white and covered with beads of sweat, but he finally couldn't hold back and said, "Stop it, don't do it."

Little Furong just mopped the ground with her head buried, and the mop continued to speed up the frequency, one after another.

He smiled and said, "I don't, I'm not tired, I can continue."

He is stubborn.Laugh far-fetched.

The patriarch walked over quickly, grabbed his mop with one hand, threw it away angrily, and said sharply: "Your strength is exhausted, you will faint!"

The thrown away mop fell to the ground and hit the cold floor with a bang, knocking out a silence.

Little Furong straightened her waist and raised her eyes, tears were filling up inside, as if they were about to fall at any moment.

The patriarch looked at him, his heart was pierced, and his eyes were sore.

"I just, just want to do something more for you, brother," Little Furong said to the patriarch with a sob, "Can't I?"

"It's meaningless," the patriarch pretended to be indifferent and turned his face away, gritting his teeth tightly.

Little Furong was terrified, he was terrified of the patriarch saying such words, and the indifference hidden in such words, these were all signals of parting.

Parting is cruel.

"Can you not let me go?" Little Furong rushed forward emotionally, hugging the patriarch's waist tightly.

He was like a person thrown into the sea, helpless and panicked, so he hugged the piece of driftwood in front of him tightly and refused to let go, hoping for a little life.

The patriarch's heart was bleeding, and he slowly raised his hand, slowly approaching Little Furong's back, but finally put it down again.

He originally wanted to make a response, but reason did not allow it, and reason blocked all his actions that might misunderstand the other party.

Yes, if you want to be decisive, you can't even give the other party a small hug.

Little Furong cried hysterically, "I will not be your burden, nor will I be your burden. I can help you a lot! As long as you can always keep me by your side, okay? Brother, please, please Please……"

But no matter how he lowered his posture into the dust, how humble and extravagant he begged, the patriarch never said a word.

It wasn't until the other party was tired from crying that the patriarch said: "Take a hot bath first. You are tired, go to sleep after washing."

After a pause, he said in a more weary tone: "You are tired, and I am tired too."

A teardrop rolled out from the lower edge of Xiao Furong's eyelid, across the boy's pink cheek, and fell silently to the ground.

The patriarch pulled Little Furong's hand from his waist, turned around and went back to the room without saying a word.

Close the door, lock it.

The living room returned to silence, deathly silence.

Half a moment later, Little Furong's sobbing broke the silence, and the intermittent sobbing gradually turned into bitter crying.

His voice was hoarse, every tone was torn apart, and sour tears fell like a shower.

He cried out in despair like a man thrown off a cliff.

The man in the room heard every cry, piercing straight into his heart, but he didn't move.

But the tears fell together, wet the pillow silently.

The author says:

Little Furong: I want to sleep with you, but you want to eat me.