An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

The three of them walked all the way to the last room of the darkroom. At first, when they saw the things hanging on the wall, placed on the floor, and placed on the table, even July and September thought they were weapons.

Who knew that when you look closely, you will find that these things are so strange, ropes, sticks, clamps, cotton balls, whips... everything, but in terms of appearance and practicality, they all seem to be different from ordinary weapons.

Jiu Yue said with disdain: "This pervert, all he does is abuse people."

She and July both had some vague guesses, but it was not easy to tell the young master too clearly. However, they wanted to leave after seeing it.

"Then~~can it also be used to interrogate prisoners?"

Jing Chunxi wanted to keep anything that was useful. Maybe Grandpa Xiaobei and his uncle could use it, or it would be nice to give it to Jing Yi.

It would be great if we could use the criminals to make them confess things honestly.

In her two lives, she never became a real woman, so naturally she didn't think about those messy things.

July saw that her master was interested in these things and didn't know what she was going to do.

Worried that she might ask someone to move it because she couldn't explain it clearly, she quickly stopped her: "It's not a good thing."

Jing Chunxi still didn't understand whether they were talking about these things or the owner of the house.

But seeing that the two of them were not interested in these things, and even looked a little disgusted, I gave up the idea of ​​cleaning up.

When he walked out again, he was a few steps behind them. He only left the things in that room and took away everything else.

After coming out of the secret passage and returning to the study, Jing Chunxi picked up a pen and busily wrote anti-poems on the wall, which she had prepared in advance.

July and September didn't help either, fearing that they wouldn't be able to write like the young master's, with its crooked and uneven handwriting, which was either intentional or just natural.

It was really horrible. They still preferred to look at the small calligraphy written by the young master. It was just like her, like flowers blooming in spring, delicate and gentle, every word was a gem, beautiful and elegant.

But they were not idle either.

July secretly placed a letter in the most inconspicuous place in the desk drawer. September went over and pretended to have nothing to do, flipped through a few books, and also stuffed a few slightly yellowed pieces of letter paper in.

They had to admire Brother Jing. Compared to Brother Jing's meticulous thinking and proper arrangements, the young master was really too naive.

The few anti-poems on the wall are too obvious. If someone had discovered them in advance, they could have simply washed them away with water or scraped them with a knife and the evidence would have been gone.

Besides, who would write anti-government poems on the wall so blatantly? Is it because they think the person on the head has been keeping his head for too long?

After finishing their work, Jing Chunxi and July and September were sent back, but Xiaoman was kept.

This time she had no objection, no resistance, and didn't want to curse. She was as docile as the little rabbit raised by Xiaotuanzi. She left when she was supposed to, as if nothing had happened, and was free and easy.

After coming back, I had a midnight snack and took a bath, then lay in bed and slept like a pig.

There were no more monsters or bloody fights in the dream. Instead, all I dreamed of were colorful bubbles, and even the air in the dream was sweet.

Only July and September, who slept next to Jing Chunxi, were very depressed. They thought they were going to make a big move tonight.

Who knew that the young master would take them for a spin and come back without getting anything, even though the time he spent there was not as long as the time he spent last night to check out the place.

The dog thief is not killed, and the good things are not taken. Is this going to play in the house? Even if you want to play, you shouldn't go to such a dirty place. I don't know what the young master means.

But thinking about the fact that Brother Jing and the others stayed behind, they had at least helped hide a few pieces of stationery and a letter, so there must be a backup plan, so they fell asleep peacefully.