Ye Wumian said "Hey", squatted down and examined it carefully.
I saw that some areas of the skin on the dead bandit's face were swollen, as if they were inflated; other parts of the body gradually became greenish-brown, but this face was still red with black.
At first glance, except for the flatulence and the reddish-brown deposits under the skin, the face is no different from that of ordinary people.
After a person dies, according to the "Resolution of Wrongs: Autopsy" written by Song Ci, an official and forensic scientist of the Southern Song Dynasty, "the human body is originally red and black, but after death it becomes green." Zhang Daqiu has been dead for three or four hours, and there are already corresponding signs, but this face seems to be hanging outside the body, which is very different from other parts of the body.
"This face looks very unreal, like fake." Ye Wumian shook his head. Although he has not read "The Record of Clearing Wrongs", the experience he accumulated through traveling in the world can still allow him to see abnormalities and make bold speculations.
Before Zhang Daqiu died, there was nothing wrong with his stinky face except for the mole on his face. Only after death, when the corpse begins to show various signs of decay, and the overall changes, will the specialness of this face be highlighted.
Ye Wumian clicked his tongue a few times, propped up the bandit's head, searched up and down, and groped around. Finally, in a secret area behind his head, among the hair, he saw a loosened knot. Although it was loose, it was still strong and reliable. Ye Wumian pulled it gently, and the sound of breaking away was heard. The entire face of Zhang Daqiu, including the conspicuous mole, was pulled off by him.
"Crack."
The face was lifted into Ye Wumian's hands, bouncing on the ground, shaking and bumping lightly. A certain kind of special material makes this face very flexible and adhering to the skin. Unless the body dies and the body changes, it will never fall off or separate from the face, exposing the fact that it is just a fake face. .
Once the fake skin is gone, the true face is revealed. Zhang Daqiu's real face is uglier than his skin with wrinkles.
The black face with ravines was covered with bruises and bruises, and some of it had even festered. In the festered wounds, disgusting little bugs were crawling, which seemed to have been there before he was alive. The whole person looked like he was terminally ill and was about to die soon. His appearance was very inconsistent with his martial arts skills.
Even if he is not killed by Ye Wumian this time, he probably won't be able to live for a few more years.
Ye Wumian thought, this thief must have practiced the poisonous palm energy, which caused such lesions on his body, hair and skin. It seems that people should stay upright and not practice any evil skills, otherwise they will be as ugly as that stinky guy.
After sighing for a while, Ye Wumian stared at the fake face in his hand, in a daze.
"Wearing this fake face, Zhang Daqiu has been a bandit in the Black Elk Peak for many years. Perhaps no one has seen the true face beneath the face.
If I had this face, wouldn't I be able to pretend to be him, deceive the big and small thieves in the Black Elk Gang, and then be able to successfully connect with Director Wu on September 26th? "
A ridiculous idea took shape in his mind. But soon, he shook his head, feeling that he was very wronged by this.
I thought that when I was young, I could dress up as a woman, and my appearance could surpass that of most women, and seduced all the men into confusion. How could I let go of the burden in my heart, and be the king of the mountain in the Black Elk Peak with this ugly face?
This fake face has been worn closely by Zhang Daqiu for who knows how many years. It can be said that every inch of it is contaminated with the scent of a dog thief. When you hold it in your hand, you can smell the smell of skin sweat, which is extremely disgusting. How can I let go of my dislike and put it on calmly?
Staring blankly at this fake face. Ye Wumian's heart was sometimes in turmoil, and sometimes as calm as a mountain.
Some light gradually came in from the window, and the warm autumn and winter sunshine finally crawled lazily out of the mountain nest, giving a little hope to the dark corner that was almost forgotten.
At a certain moment, Ye Wumian stood up with a bang, pushed open the door of the small bamboo house, walked to the back of the house, and found the path to the pond in the morning light. He squatted on a small stone pier and threw the fake face in, swish. Oh, I turned it over and over and washed it many times.
There were some residues of soap locust beside the pool. For him, this was a rare good thing. He made the best use of it without wasting a single grain. After washing the fake face, you can indeed no longer smell the smell of skin sweat.
Back in the small bamboo house, Ye Wumian looked in the mirror and carefully put the fake face on his face. The stitching is tight so that no flaws are exposed.
This fake face can really be regarded as the most magical thing he has ever seen in his life.
At first, he thought that after violent cleaning, his face would fade, or become swollen and deformed due to blisters.
Until he put it on, he almost couldn't help but want to give himself a slap - because except for his hairstyle, the self in the mirror was almost the same as the original big ball, the mole was the mole, the mouth was the mouth, and even Even the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth were intact, without any difference, and the living big ball reappeared, which made him really want to slap this thief again to vent his emotional ups and downs throughout the day.
Fortunately, I woke up in time and realized that this big ball was not that big ball. After hitting it, I would only hurt myself. Only then did he avoid receiving this slap.
He took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and got used to the face. He quickly closed the door, lifted up the dead body with his eyes open, took off his turban, and recreated his hairstyle. Holding back his nausea, he took off his clothes and exchanged clothes and shoes with the corpse except for his underwear.
Because Zhang Daqiu's sternum was cracked by his punch, the chest of his clothes was torn and soaked with blood, which was very scary. Ye Wumian prepared a set of excuses, but he was not afraid of being asked why.
He took the hairpin he took off, pointed it at the big ball in a maid's skirt, and scratched the thief's face crazily. He didn't stop until the scratches were so bloody that he could no longer look straight at him. He snorted coldly, put the clean hairpin in his arms without looking, opened the door, and walked out of the small bamboo house.
If anyone comes now and sees this body, they will only think that it is Ye Wumian who was kidnapped and tortured to death by the boss. But I would never have thought that this was Zhang Daqiu himself.
The breeze came slowly, bringing down a few fallen leaves, which hovered in the air for a long time and stayed there for a long time. The late autumn morning was so cold and dull that it made people want to cry.
Ye Wumian was wearing clothes with blood on her chest, walking on the mountain path with a pimple on her face, trying her best to adapt to this new identity.
A poet named Kong Shaoan at the turn of the Sui and Tang Dynasties once wrote a poem, which appeared in front of him and made him cry.
"The fallen leaves are startling in early autumn, and they are floating like the hearts of guests."
