King Crazy Game

There were many awards and a small family photo on the wall as soon as he entered the gate. Shen Qingning took a look at the photo and found that Fang Yang and Fang Baisheng had inherited Miao Chun's genes except for their eyes. The awards of all sizes were won by Fang Yang when he was in elementary school. Below the awards was a shabby old desk with elementary school textbooks neatly placed on it.

On the corner of the table was a photo of a little boy of about seven or eight years old. He was touching his red rouge face, saluting respectfully with his right hand, and smiling very happily at the camera.

"Is this Fang Yang?" Lin Zicheng asked, pointing at the photo.

Miao Chun didn't expect someone to ask this. He was stunned for a moment, then he smiled with satisfaction and nodded.

Shen Qingning: "Your grades were very good at that time, why did you stop studying after elementary school?"

Miao Chun looked at them silently, her loose eyelids pressing down on her eyes, which were only a slit, cloudy and confused. She twisted her hands together and repeatedly picked at the chilblains on her hands. After a while, she whispered, "The child's father is mentally ill, and the school said it's hereditary, so he can't go to school."

Lin Zicheng frowned slightly: "Why did you agree to marry me?"

When Miao Chun heard this question, she looked at Lin Zicheng tremblingly for a long time, then lowered her eyes to stare at her cloth shoes with the soles bursting. She rested her chin on her chest. Her hair was sparse and covered with dandruff. She was silent for a while and said vaguely: "My family said that if I follow him, I will have money, even if I don't work. I don't have money working at home, and I don't have enough to eat. Here I have food to eat."

What a simple and plain reason...

If Miao Chun hadn't married Fang Baisheng, if Fang Yang had been born in another family, if Jiang He's case hadn't happened...

One tragedy follows another, continuing the tragedy indefinitely and eventually forming a vicious circle.

In the early morning, on a cloudy day, the shadows of the tombstones in the cemetery overlap, birds fly low, and a mixed smell of earth slowly seeps out from the ground, as if the sleeping dead are slowly waking up and greeting the strangers coming and going.

A middle-aged man holding two bunches of chrysanthemums walked on a stone-paved road with ease. He came to an old tombstone with two ordinary names engraved on it. He stared at the two names quietly, then stretched out his hand and gently slid across the concave and convex characters.

The coffin that weighed on my heart was finally put down, but the dust has not yet settled...

Raindrops fell from the sky, landing on his face coldly. He was trying to find a place to shelter from the rain when a dark shadow appeared above his head.

Lin Zicheng, who was beside the man, held an umbrella in one hand and placed a bunch of white chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone with the other hand, and bowed deeply. The man looked at him quietly, without showing any surprise, and did not leave.

Lin Zicheng turned around and greeted with a smile: "Hello, Teacher Tang Zhi."

Tang Zhi looked at the good-looking man in front of him wearing gold-rimmed glasses. He looked gentle and kind, but there was a sense of inhumanity and indifference in his silence. The rain fell quickly, hitting the umbrella with a crisp sound. There were not many people around, only the neatly arranged tomb owners who saluted them.

"The rain seems to be getting heavier. There is a pavilion ahead. Let's go there and wait for the rain to stop before leaving."

Lin Zicheng's voice was gentle, but just like his aura, his tenderness was mixed with an irresistible coldness.

Tang Zhi smiled calmly, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes made him look more mature and sophisticated.

The pavilion stands quietly by the road, contrasting with the surrounding trees. The small and exquisite top is inlaid with glazed tiles, and the four corners of the pavilion stretch out to the sky, like a bird about to fly out of the mountains and tombs. In the corner of the pavilion, there are benches for people to rest.

Lin Zicheng put away his umbrella, sat on the bench, and smiled politely at Tang Zhi: "Teacher Tang Zhi, let's just treat this as a greeting, skip the unnecessary content, and get straight to the point."

Tang Zhi leaned against the guardrail and nodded with a knowing smile on his face, as if he had expected Lin Zicheng to come.

Lin Zicheng: "Teacher Tang should have contributed a lot to Fang Yang's murder."

Tang Zhi did not deny it, but asked curiously: "How do you know?"

Lin Zicheng said calmly: "One of Fang Yang's parents is mentally ill and speaks unclearly, and the other is illiterate. If the family is unable to provide education, it is likely that the problem will come from school. It should be difficult for Fang Yang to go to school with ordinary children, but he was able to finish elementary school with his peers. I believe it is also your credit."

"I checked Fang Yang's homeroom teacher and teachers, and found that you and Fang Yang spent the longest time together, and he was most deeply influenced by you. Whether it was his excellent grades or his inner belief in fairness and justice, it all came from you. You can say that you are another relative of his. Of course, all of this is for the current result, and all the groundwork has been laid."

"Fang Baisheng was originally just an ordinary mental patient, but he became epileptic and crazy on the day of the murder. I guess he was injected with some kind of drug, which caused it. After Fang Yang learned the truth, his inner belief in justice and the injustice of fate prompted him to want to kill Liang Xijin or Liang Xihe that day."

"Teacher Tang, I'm afraid you can't complete this game by yourself. Who is helping you?"

After saying this, Lin Zicheng looked at Tang Zhi indifferently with his peach blossom eyes half-open. It seemed that he didn't deliberately wait for an answer, but just asked casually after finishing speaking.

Tang Zhi stood up and walked to the entrance of the pavilion. He held onto the pillar with his hands, and the corners of his wrinkled eyes curved up as if he was smiling. "When I was very young, my parents were busy making a living and had no time to take care of me. I was the only one at home all day, which also cultivated my lonely and talkative personality. In class, not many people were willing to talk to me. Everyone liked to play with those who were good-looking or had good academic performance. Basically, no one was willing to touch me, who was like a nail."

"When it rains, the children who have umbrellas go home with them, and the children who don't have umbrellas are picked up by their families. I am the only one who has nothing. But I am used to it. I get caught in the rain so many times that I forget that I need an umbrella."

"That day after school, it was raining like this. I was alone, carrying my schoolbag, heading home, hoping to get home without getting completely soaked. I don't know how long I walked, but they suddenly appeared from behind me, one of them hooked his arm around my neck, the other one put his arm around my shoulder, and stuffed the only umbrella into my hand, asking with a smile, 'Why are you walking so fast? We have an umbrella so we can go home together.' The three of us went home holding the same small umbrella."

Tang Zhi couldn't help laughing when he said this: "The road we walked that day was the happiest road I have ever walked in my life. It turns out that I was also a child with an umbrella."

But the laughter was short-lived, and the hand holding the pillar clenched subconsciously: "When a person stays in the dark for a long time, he will hold on to the light that shines in. Maybe I am not the one favored by God. We all live in Jianghe District and go home after school as usual. The ragged, unkempt madman and the long sword as tall as his body just cut off my hard-earned happiness."