There is a "hanging pot", warming the local（二）

Think of it many years later, as if dreaming. The magic of black beauty creams can not understand are still used to praised the sweat on the ridge between the three Zhanglao joke Bao short black mask askew under the eaves are still lingering in mind as, to be recycled parents too. Zhang Lao cure shin and three breast cancer recognized as the godson had more than a dozen dry daughter. Now, as a doctor, I'm really not in the black salve and how the judge between Western medicine. Old Zhang also said the three used as a medicine-not the centipede and other deep toad lizard medicine for what ethereal elements. Are not taught to search for three Zhanglao the mystery of these legend Warren wonderful technique, but could not dig three Zhanglao deployment of drugs developed a private secrets. .
Unfortunately, the years turned another turn did not keep a good man. Jingzhe day. The buffalo in heat two lovers are picked up for the battle horn can not wait to rival put to death, fighting to a small road to being knocked down three Zhanglao collected herbs, and his head was seriously injured, had a brain haemorrhage, and soon dead. Henghuo devoid of flying a hot soul. Five days of thunder hit two killer sentenced to death, stripped of its skin taste of the meat still understand people's hearts for ever. Fortunately, the blood does not linger but never fishes continuously Local hanging pot still is still hot rolling palm years. That is his son Zhang Da. Is also a rough black face of the man, through the many piles of time and space, inherited his father, also provoked the burden of hanging pots.
I vaguely remember, from the streets of the south end of East street, and stepping on the grass Xiaopi pond, and then stood off to the east of plum tree piece of road on both sides of the cave is the home of Zhang third. Whether or low eaves of his house Aiwuji the old look, or made of reinforced concrete with a new house. Alley, black and yellow male dog bitch still made love in the light days of the day, breeding their children and grandchildren. The taste of cow dung and pig quietly tell you that the alley was full of stories of farming families. The story inside, with my knees crying godfather voice.