雨不知道下多久了，整个青牛镇都被笼罩在一片灰蒙蒙的水汽里。泥路被冲得坑坑洼洼，断瓦残垣间，几个穿着破烂衣衫的修士正围着篝火喝酒，眼神浑浊。

明玉坐在人群外围，怀里紧紧抱着个破布包，那是他爹临死前塞给他的。布包里没什么，就几块干硬的米饼，和一小袋发霉的草药。

“明小子，别傻坐着了，快喝口酒暖和暖和。”旁边身材最魁梧的修士骂骂咧咧地扔过来一个陶碗。碗里酒液浑浊，冒着一股刺鼻的酸味，但在这末世里，这已经是难得的热饮了。

明玉没接，目光死死盯着火堆里燃烧的枯枝。那些树枝烧着烧着，中间就裂开一道缝，从缝里钻出几只蠕动的小虫子，黑乎乎的，像毒蛇的鳞片。

有人在旁边笑了：“这天气，连鬼都得缩着脖子，你说咱们这些活人，算什么？”

说话的是个尖嘴猴腮的小个子，名叫李二狗。他祖上曾是镇上炼器的，后来天劫一来，全家死的死，伤的伤，就他命硬，爬出火海时只剩条胳膊。现在靠着残废的手指搓麻药丸，赚点零花钱度日。

“活着总比死了强。”明玉闷声说道，啐了一口唾沫，砸在地上 watches the firelight flicker .”It's been raining for who knows how long now. The entire Qingniu Town is shrouded in a grey mist. The muddy roads are坑坑洼洼, and amidst the broken walls and rafters, a few cultivators in ragged clothes are drinking around a bonfire, their eyes dull.

Mingyu sits on the periphery of the crowd, tightly hugging a ragged bundle in his arms. It's the one his father gave him before he died. Inside the bundle, there wasn't much - just a few dry rice cakes and a small bag of moldy herbs.