Chapter 7: The Person Was Not Killed by Me

  After all the hardships, I thought I had escaped the fate of being a cannon fodder and was on top of my life. But, as it turns out, reality has proven that I am still a cannon fodder. Copy this address to browse: 77777.biqi.me

  In the vast city of Beijing, there are countless inns, but strangely, not a single room is empty.

  Who would believe this if it got out? The fact is that there are many empty houses, unfortunately they have all been occupied by people.

  Even with toes, it's clear that the mastermind behind the scenes is Gong Sunqian.

  Doesn't he just want me to look pitiful and beg for mercy by hugging his leg? No way! Not a chance!

  The weather in Beijing is indeed very cold. As I faced the biting wind, my body involuntarily shivered.

  In the hurry of departure, I forgot to bring my fur coat. No, it seems that I did bring it, but it's not in my luggage. Could it be that some thief has stolen it?

  Forget it, this is not the time to get entangled in these things. How am I going to spend this long and endless night?

  One moment I was thinking about how to get through the long night, and the next moment I knew how I would get through it.

  Looking at the corpse lying on the ground and then looking at the debris falling from the sky, isn't my luck too good?

  At this time, the miscellaneous people were not the embroidered uniforms of the noon, but the public servants of the West Factory.

  At this time, can I say that I am just passing by to get soy sauce? Of course, I can say it, but unfortunately, they won't believe me.

  The corpse on the ground, I took a closer look, and it wasn't someone else, but the leader of the miscellaneous army who had put his knife to my neck at noon, with a teardrop mole at the corner of his eye.

  I've often heard that people with long drips of tears moles have a tumultuous fate, I originally still had some doubts about it, but now it seems that those words aren't just empty rumors.

  This is not the point at this moment, the point is that from now on, I'm afraid even jumping into the Yellow River won't be able to wash me clean.

  At noon, I had just made peace with that group of rascals, and several hours later, this tear-stained rascal died on the street.

  Although I poured that group of miscellaneous medicine when there were no other eyewitnesses, except for this tear mole miscellaneous, the other miscellaneous are still alive.

  Whether it's avenging a personal grievance or framing someone with malicious intent, or even calling a deer a horse, I'm afraid I won't be able to escape imprisonment.

  The sky is vast and wide, the fields are endless, what kind of fate am I in?

  Ever since I met that psycho this morning, I've been having a streak of bad luck. That psycho is not just a psycho, he's a total jinx.

  The truth is revealed, and there are eight people in the Western Factory. Although the number is not large, based on my experience, the martial arts of this group of rascals are mostly above mine.

  It is said that Wang Zhiwu, the head eunuch of the Western Depot, has extremely high martial arts skills and is known as the number one person in the eunuch world. The eunuchs under him are also not to be underestimated.

  The Imperial Guards and the Western Depot have never been on good terms, and they have always been like well water not offending river water. So how should this be explained now? Could it be that these miscellaneous people are here to watch the excitement?

  "Is it you who killed him?"

  Facing this kind of interrogation method, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for these beings that are neither male nor female.

  Just as I was thinking, a western-style swordsman suddenly placed his sword on my neck.

  It seems that my neck is indeed attractive enough, no, it's attractive enough for weapons.

  "It wasn't me who killed him."

  Faced with such an IQ-boosting question, I can only give a similarly unoriginal answer.

  "It wasn't you who killed him, so why are you here?"

  "Are you blind? Can't you see that man was stabbed from behind? Which of your eyes saw a sword on me?"

  Wang Zhi has such a group of subordinates, it seems that he is not far from being destitute and at the end of his rope.