Chapter 27 27. My name is Black

In the dark room of the dead Jew, Shekure frowned and began to curse. It seemed to her that I might easily put the huge thing in my hand into someone else's mouth, just like I did in Tbilisi. He met Circassian girls, Kipchak whores, tavern poor girls, Turman and Persian widows, ordinary whores that were rapidly filling Istanbul, flamboyant Mingorians, coquettish Abkhazians, old Armenian hags, Old goblins of Genoa and Syria, mummers, and greedy boys, yet don't get into her mouth.She angrily accused me of completely losing self-control, sleeping with all kinds of cheap and despicable scum everywhere, from the dark alleys of hot Arabian towns to the coast of the Caspian Sea, from Persia to Baghdad, forgetting that some women still have their dignity; That is to say, all my love words are all hypocrisy.

I respectfully listen to my lover's colorful scolding, the evil thing in my hand has long lost its color.Although I was embarrassed by the situation of being rejected, there were two things that made me happy: 1. I restrained myself from responding to Shekure's anger and harsh words, because in the past when I encountered similar situations, I usually would savagely curse those women; and two, I found that Shekure knew my journey perfectly, and I understood that she missed me more often than I expected. Shekure immediately took pity on me when she saw me crestfallen because of my inability to resolve my desires.

"If you really loved me unrequitedly," she said, as if trying to find a way out for herself, "you'd keep yourself in check like a gentleman, and you wouldn't try to rape a woman you really liked. Dignity. You're not the only one trying to marry me. Did anyone see you on the way here?" "No." She turned her charming face towards the door, which I hadn't remembered for twelve years, and I could admire her face as if I heard someone walking in a dark snow-covered garden.Suddenly there was a creaking sound outside, and we all waited silently, but no one came in.I recall that Shekure had struck me with an ominous feeling before, even when she was twelve years old, because she knew more than I did.

"The ghost of the hanged Jew often haunts the place," she said. "Have you been here often lately?" "Spirits, ghosts, ghosts... They come with the wind, they hide in the furniture, they make noises in the silence. Everything talks. I don't have to come all the way here to hear them." "Shevgai took me here to see the dead cat, but it's gone." "I heard that you told him that you killed his father." "Not quite. Has my words become like this? I didn't kill his father. On the contrary, I want to be his father." "Why do you say you killed his father?"

"He first asked me if I had killed anyone. I told him the truth. I had killed two people." "To show off?" "To show off, and to impress the children of my beloved women. Because I know this mother, to comfort the two young rascals, exaggerated their father's heroics in battle and deliberately displayed his spoils in the house. " "Then keep showing off! They don't like you." "Shevgey doesn't like me, but Orhan does," I said, proudly pointing out my lover's mistakes, "but I will be a father to both of them." As if the shadow of something that was not there passed between us in the gloom, we trembled restlessly and trembled with fear.When I woke up, I saw Shekure sobbing loudly.

"My unfortunate husband has a younger brother named Hassan. I lived with him and my in-laws in the same house for two years while waiting for my husband to return. He fell in love with me. Recently he started to suspect that something might have happened What. It made him very angry to imagine that I might marry someone else, maybe you. He sent me word that he wanted to take me back to their house by force. They said that since I was not a widow in the eyes of the judge, they Going to force me to go back to that house in my husband's name. They could come to our house at any moment. My father also doesn't want a judge to declare me a widow because if I get a divorce he thinks I'll find a new husband, Abandon him. He suffered loneliness after my mother died, and I brought him home with the child and brought him great joy. Will you agree to live with us?"

"what do you mean?" "If we got married, would you like to live with my father, with us?" "I have no idea." "Then you should think about it earlier. You won't have much time, trust me. My father sensed something evil was coming our way, and I think he was right. If Hassan took his If the men and the Janissaries come to our house and take my father before a judge, will you testify that you saw the dead body of my husband with your own eyes? They will believe you when you have just come back from Persia." "I am willing to testify, but I did not kill him."

"Okay. Find one more witness. In order to make me a widow, are you willing to testify before the judge that you saw my husband's blood-stained corpse on the battlefield of Persia?" "I didn't really see it, my dear, but I'm willing to testify for you." "Do you love my child?" "I love them." "Tell me, what do you love about them?" "I love Shevgai for his strength, determination, honesty, intelligence, and determination," I said, "and I love Orhan for his sensitivity, weakness, and cleverness. I love them because they are your children."

My dark-eyed lover smiled and shed a few tears.Then, like a budget-minded woman, busy trying to accomplish a lot in a short time, she changed the subject again: "My father's book must be completed and presented to His Majesty the Sultan. The omens that haunt us are all because of this book." "Aside from the murder of Mr. Gao Ya, what other evils have happened?" The question displeased her.She tries to be sincere, but inappropriately.she says: "The disciples of the Nusrait Imam of Erzurum are spreading rumors that there is something irreligious and Frankish in my father's book. The miniaturists who often come to our house, don't they Are you jealous of each other and have ghosts? You have been with them before, and you know best!"

"Your late husband's brother," I said, "has anything to do with these miniaturists, your father's books, or the disciples of Dean Slater? Or just a man of his own accord?" "He had nothing to do with any of that, but he was by no means a man of his own accord," she said. There was a mysterious and strange silence. "When you lived under the same roof with Hassan, was there no avoidance between you?" "Stay in separate rooms as much as possible." At this moment, not far away, several dogs ecstatically threw themselves into each other's fight and frolicking, barking happily.

I couldn't find the courage to ask Shekure why her late husband, a man who fought and fought and was a man with fiefs, let his wife live with his brother in a two-room home Hesitantly and timidly, I asked my childhood sweetheart this question: "Why did you marry your husband?" "Of course I'm going to be married to someone," she said.That's true, explaining her marriage succinctly, while tactfully avoiding disheartening me by praising her husband. "You went away and never came back. Not hearing from you may be a sign of love, but a lover who is not heard from is also very boring, without any future." This is also true, but not enough to make her marry that The reason for the bandits.From the reserved expression on her face, it was not difficult to guess that Shekure had forgotten me as much as anyone else not long after I left Istanbul.I think she told me this beautiful lie just to soothe my hurt heart, even a little bit, and I should take it as a gesture of kindness and be grateful.So I began to tell her how I thought of her all the time during the long journey, and how her image came back to me like a ghost at night.These are my most private, deepest pains that I thought I would never be able to confide in anyone.Even though the pain was real, I was surprised when I said it that it sounded insincere at all. In order that my emotions and desires may be properly understood, here I must explain the difference I have discovered for the first time in my life, which is: Sometimes telling the truth makes a person insincere.Perhaps the best example of this is our group of miniaturists disturbed by the murderer in the murder.Imagine a perfect picture, say, a picture of a horse, no matter how much it appears to be a real horse, or a horse created by Allah, or a horse drawn by a great painter, it may not reflect the picture The sincerity of its genius painter at that moment.The sincerity of the miniaturist, or of us humble servants of Allah, is not manifested in moments of brilliance and perfection; rather, it is manifested in times of slips of the tongue, mistakes, disappointments and painful setbacks.I say this to explain to the young ladies, because they will find that my desire for Shekure just now - and she knows it - is not as good as the oval-faced, copper-skinned, alcoholic woman I met on the road. It's no different from the swoon that red-lipped Qazwin beauties feel, and they're likely to be disappointed by it.Fortunately, Xie Kurui has the profound common sense of life and shrewd intuition gifted by God. I know that I have suffered a real Chinese-style torture for her in the past twelve years, and I also know that it is the first time to be alone with her after twelve years. Why would I be so preoccupied with wanting to satisfy my dark hunger quickly like a whore.Nizami once compared the mouth of the peerless beauty Celine, saying that it is like an inkwell full of pearls. The excited dogs outside were barking again, and Shekure said uneasily, "I have to go now." Although it was still some time before dark, it was only now that we realized that the house of the ghost Jew had indeed become much darker.My body rushed forward involuntarily, trying to hug her again, but she jumped away like a jumping sparrow. "Am I still that beautiful? Answer me quickly." I told her.She listened gracefully, agreed and believed me. "What about my clothes?" I told her. "Do I smell good?" Of course, Shekure also knew that Nizami's so-called "love chess game" did not include such rhetorical games, but consisted of hidden emotional activities between lovers. "How are you going to support your family?" she asked. "Will you be able to take care of my fatherless child?" I told her that I had more than twelve years of experience as an officer's assistant. The wars and dead bodies I saw gave me extensive knowledge and a brighter future prospect.I said while hugging her. "What a sweet embrace we had just now," she said, "but now everything has lost its original mystery." I hugged her tighter to prove my sincerity.I asked her why she asked Esther to return the picture I drew for her after saving it for twelve years.We kissed together when I found that her eyes revealed the demented surprise towards me, and the sympathy for me welled up from the bottom of her heart.This time, I found myself free from dizzying lust, a surge of love that surged into our hearts, chests, and bellies, terrifying us like the flapping wings of eagles.The best way to appease love, isn't it just making love? When I reached out to touch Shekure's big tits, she pushed me away with a more determined and sweet gesture than before.I'm not mature enough to maintain a credible marriage with someone I defiled before marriage.I was too self-righteous to forget that any impulsive behavior would attract the devil, and I was too ignorant to understand that a happy marriage requires endless patience and pain.She slipped out of my arms, dropped her linen veil, and headed for the door.The door was open, and the street was already dark early, and I caught a glimpse of snowflakes outside.I forgot that we had been whispering all the time—perhaps not wanting to disturb the soul of the Hanged Jew—and I yelled: "What shall we do in the future?" "I don't know," she said, noting the rules of "Love Chess Game."She left her footprints in the snow in the garden—obviously the previous footprints had been erased by the snow—and slipped away.