Adachi Ward, Takenozuka-cho.

Takenozuka is one of the more prosperous areas in Adachi, after all, it is close to the station, people come and go, it is natural and convenient, and the food and customs industry is very open.

Shops in island countries do not necessarily have to be opened along the street, such as some small membership shops, as well as some water merchants, special bars are actually opened in apartment-like buildings, and there is a hole in the sky as soon as you walk in, of course, you also have to register.

After about half an hour, the monk walked out of the shop of the old woman's mother, Sang.

"Amitabha, donor, I have found it for you, next time be careful not to forget these things somewhere."

There are ghosts and corpses in the wall, but in the tube of the curtain, I don't know who put a few small dead fish, and it stinks after a long time in the summer.

When I found out the little fish that came in, my mother Sang's face was not very good.

"Oops, remember, remember." The more my mother Sang looked at the monk's bald head, the more happy she became, "Owner, this is thank you for exorcising evil spirits in the store." ”

The envelope contained the money, which still looked a little thick.

Mama Sang makes a lot of money, and it is also a high-paying industry.

"No need." The monk shook his head, lowered his head and smiled, "Even if there is no poor monk, the benefactor will find it, it's just a simple little thing." ”

"Physical exorcism is also exorcism, how can you not be grateful? If you don't accept it, I'm so greedy, the Buddha will punish me. ”

"In that case, the donor might as well give the little monk some food."

Seeing that the monk was unmoved, Mama Sang also understood that this monk was different from the former monk customers in the store, this was a real monk.

"What are you talking about, boy, I don't think you're too small......" said Mama-san and really found something to eat from the refrigerator cabinet.

Although the water merchants mainly sell services, there are also small snacks to eat.

There are a lot of things, not many staple foods, but there are a lot of snacks and desserts, as well as emergency bread, and what can really fill your stomach is small sushi, which is stuffed with some alcohol in the bag.

"Thank you, donor."

Mother Sang looked at the monk affectionately, and reluctantly handed over the business card, "The owner doesn't have a business card, I don't know which master in the temple is, I will go to worship the Buddha in the future, and I can see each other again." ”

"Hey, this one isn't." Mama Sang's business card is full of the style of a water merchant, and it is difficult to describe the pompousness, "I am just a wandering monk, and wherever I go, that inch of land is a temple." ”

There was another sound of Amitabha, and then I looked at the past and only the back of the monk remained.

Listening to the monk's words, the corners of Mama Sang's clothes moved.

Carrying a bag of food, dressed in the night, the monk walked down the noisy street without looking back.

The breeze is blowing, and the flags of the shops on the street are also waving at the side of the monks.

The bustling colorful lights and the black of the night blended together, and Mama-san pressed the corners of her clothes and put her hands on her chest, and in a trance she seemed to have returned to the era of Yamaguchi Momoe and Ashin, which was her young memory.

Studying, falling in love, being deceived, embarking on the road of no return, struggling in the quagmire, adapting, and then using the quagmire in turn, she has become an old woman.

If I could meet this monk when I was young, would the trajectory of my life be completely different, I hate you for being late!

Looking at the monks who were walking farther and farther away, Mama Sang pinched the railing: "He's a good man." ”

As the monk's back was about to disappear into the crowd, she grew her mouth and the wrinkles on her face stretched towards the roots of her ears.

The memories of youth and the images of the present are pinched together, and the voices of people on the sleepless streets roll in the ears.

The back of the monk grew larger and larger in her eyes, and other irrelevant things in the world became smaller and smaller.

The breeze is sucked into the mouth, squeezed out of the chest, and converges into an explosive note in the mouth.

"Welcome to the next time!"

The bald back of the bag is a little lonely, which is incompatible with this lively street.

The monk walked for a while, and following the location in his memory, he skillfully found a hidden corner behind a regimental land.

It's hidden, but relatively speaking, because less than 50 meters away from the corner, there are more popular streets, with neon lights and human voices mixed together, highlighting Tokyo's glossy modernity.

But at such a distance, a group of homeless people lodge in the narrow aisles, undetected by the spotlight, which is not unhidden.

They live in shacks.

The shack resembles a tomb from the Kofun period.

Standing tombstones.

The shack is a house with simple plywood, and the doors and windows are made of plastic found in the garbage collection point, which can be used by draping it, and the shack is not large, so it can barely allow one or two people to lie down and sleep in it, and the advantage is that there is no fear of being crushed to death in the event of an earthquake.

Some homeless people will also pay attention to the collected things outside the shack, such as the otaku throwaway figures, children's toys, and all kinds of strange things, generously placed, anyway, no one will come mad to steal their homeless things.

From birth to the present, the only thing worth in the whole body is a life.

Can this life be stolen?

Seeing the monk coming, a homeless man in the shack shouted, "The great good man is here!" ”

"Oh!"

"What's so delicious?"

"I said how I smelled it."

After a while, figures appeared in the seemingly dead shacks, whether they were elite workers, construction workers, stock speculators, or even entrepreneurs before wandering, under the long-term edification, the characters of the homeless gradually tended to homogeneous.

Their usual food is made by everyone with some ingredients and boiled together, or breakfast is a meal donated by a public welfare group.

It is said that such a meal can also leave sad tears for the ancient village samurai.

In several districts on the outskirts of Tokyo, as well as in the various municipalities under the jurisdiction of Tokyo, the number of homeless people is not scarce, but because of the experienced management of the government, there are no more large slums.

"I'm disappointed to everyone, it's all some food that can't be managed." The monk untied the bag, revealing the food sent by his mother, Sang.

"Wow?! Cake? ”

"Wine, it's wine."

"This wine is a good wine, and you can get six hundred glasses in an izakaya."

As long as it's not pure alcohol, it's good wine for them.

"And sashimi, it's a mouthful, who still has leftover wasabi?"

The homeless people are sincerely lamenting the abundance of food, although they usually do not starve to death, but if they want to eat well, there is no way, how can they not be excited to see so many delicious foods in the bag this time.

"Owner, don't you eat?"

"I don't eat for lunch."

"It's strange, it's really strange for a monk like you."

A homeless man came over with a lame cat in his arms and patted the guy on the shoulder: "This is the rule of man, how can a person like you understand." ”