The setting sun was like a huge salted egg yolk, lying softly on the top of the western mountain, stretching the shadows of Yang Cong and the chicken at his feet. At the end of the shadow, there was Yangjia Village, where the smoke was curling up. It was supposed to be a warm place, but at this moment, it was like red-hot iron needles, pricking his heart.
The culprit was the guy at his feet who was digging hard in the dirt with his butt raised.
A rooster.
A rooster whose entire body was as black as ink, except for a handful of thick and shiny feathers on its head, which were pointed upwards stubbornly. It was combed meticulously and to a standard that would make a barber angry to death - a rooster with a middle parted head!
It scratched the dust with its claws, and raised its neck proudly from time to time: "Cack-clack! Cack-clack!" The loud cry echoed on the hillside, as if announcing to the whole world: Look, I found the insect! How awesome I am!
This is the contracted phantom that Yang Cong awakened the day before yesterday.
