C5 Poison Elder

Some people said that my father died from the Heavenly Slash, and that he was killed by the heavens. My parents had four children in a row, and all of them died. It was the will of the heavens that made the Jiang family extinct. However, my family was unwilling to accept this. We relied on our second uncle, who was slightly knowledgeable, to perform an evil art and forcefully give birth to me. We went against the will of the heavens and angered the heavens. The heavens then punished my father and killed him.

Some people said that my second uncle used the lives of the four children in the village to exchange for my life. The four children all died within seven days after my birth. Their deaths were similar to my older brothers. There must be some connection between them. My father's death was not caused by the Heavenly Slash, but by the family of one of the four children. In order to avenge his dead children.

Some people also said that the murderer was my second uncle. The deaths of my four older brothers, the deaths of the four children in the village, and even my father's death were all caused by my second uncle. As for the reason why he did this, it was to cultivate some evil art. Otherwise, he was just an ordinary person. How could he suddenly have a cultivation? And the reason why he ran away from home was because he was afraid that the matter would be exposed.

There were roughly three versions. In short, in the eyes of the villagers, I was an ominous child. My life was exchanged for the lives of my father and the four children in the village. My second uncle was a Demon Taoist who knew the Evil Arts. My mother was a lunatic...

At this point, everyone should have thought about the environment that I had lived in since I was young.

When my father died, my grandfather was almost seventy years old. He was an old man who had to take care of his crazy daughter-in-law and his young grandson. He was so busy that he didn't even have time to touch the ground. It was easy to imagine how difficult his life was.

Because of this, the villagers all treated us with respect and distanced themselves from us. Even when I walked in the village, I would feel some hostility and glares from the people. It was the families of the dead children. They blamed me for their deaths. Because of this, since I was young, no other children dared to play with me. They were all warned by their parents to avoid me like a snake or a scorpion.

Part of the reason why I knew about our family was because of the people who were pointing at me behind my back. Part of it was from my crazy mother, and the other part was from the Poison Elder.

Poison Elder was the Five Poison people who helped Second Uncle carry the big urn to the mass grave after Second Uncle's death. Because he was the only one left in his family, the villagers had distanced themselves from him, afraid of approaching this old man who had killed his entire family. They were also afraid of being unlucky and gave him the name Poison Elder.

Speaking of which, Poison Elder and I were connected by fate. Perhaps it was because we were isolated from each other, but ever since we were young, he had been good to me. Every time he saw me, he would smile and give me good food. He would even tell me all kinds of strange and bizarre stories.

Poison Elder was a person with a story. This was not only because he had told me countless stories, but also because he gave off a special feeling to me. Perhaps because he had experienced too many separations and reunions, he had a special temperament. I could not tell what kind of temperament it was, but it was different from the other old men in the village.

In terms of appearance, Poison Elder looked no different from an ordinary old man. He was even a little slovenly. The thing he did most every day was sit at the entrance and smoke a pipe. He smoked it and looked into the distance, as if he was thinking about something, but at the same time, he seemed to be thinking about nothing.

That was why he looked like an old book that had been sealed for a long time. The cover was yellow and covered with dust, but it seemed to be heavy and mysterious. It attracted my curiosity and made me want to find out more about it.

That was also the reason why I kept pestering him to tell me stories. He didn’t tell me his own stories, but told me about his family and everything that happened in his family.

At the beginning, I only thought that it was a story. I enjoyed listening to it. However, as I grew older, my curiosity and desire to know became stronger. I started to think about what happened in our family. What exactly happened? Did my four brothers die by accident or by fate? Who killed my father? Why did the murderer cut off his head and put it in front of my house? Why did he hide his body? What was the purpose of doing that? Where did my father’s body go? And my mysterious second uncle. He was an ordinary man. Did he use some immoral method to cultivate the evil art? Did my four brothers kill my father? Where did he go after running away from home?

Countless questions followed me as I graduated from high school. After I graduated, I went to a good university, but I didn’t go. It was not that I didn’t want to go, but my old man who had been working for many years had collapsed. That morning, he had just woken up when he fainted on the ground. When he woke up again, he was shaking and couldn’t walk anymore. I had no choice but to drop out of school and go back home.

I didn’t think that a young man with a bright future like me would be unwilling to go back to the mountains to take care of my crazy mother, my grandpa, and a few herds of sheep. I had been living like this since I was young. When I was still sensible, I thought that one day I would live like this. It could also be said that I had already accepted it, but what I was unwilling to accept was my father’s death.

After my grandpa passed away, he became quieter and quieter. He always looked like he had something on his mind. During the day, he would always sit on a stool at the door and look into the distance with his muddy eyes. He would sit there for a whole day. At night, he would often wake me up with his coughs. I could see the dim yellow light in his house, and the smell of smoke coming out of his house. It was like this until dawn.

Grandfather’s appearance made me uneasy. I had a feeling that he didn’t have much time left.

As expected, in less than a year, Grandfather fell into a coma. I took him to the hospital. After the doctor saw him, he said that all his organs were failing and he was dying. He could live for three to four days at most. Let’s go home and prepare for the funeral.

On the way back home from the hospital, Grandfather couldn’t breathe anymore. He was in a coma.

However, Grandfather was in a coma for half a month. During that half a month, he breathed in less and breathed out more. He only had rice soup to support himself every day. He was so thin that he looked like a dried up monkey. His face was dark and he looked like he was dying. If it wasn’t for his weak breath, Grandfather would have been a dead man. However, he was holding on to his breath and didn’t leave.