Xia Guo.

Jiazhou.

In Qixia Street, in the western suburbs of Jiazhou City, there is a century-old "City God Temple", and it is also the only "City God Temple" in Jiazhou.

Therefore, according to the old legend, if you ask for good luck and ask for peace, you only need to go to the city god temple to put a pillar of incense and sincerely pray for Haotian, and you can make your wishes come true, safe and smooth.

Therefore, during the festive season, the Chenghuang Temple in the western suburbs will be crowded with tourists and bustling.

Today is not a holiday, and the weather is even very gloomy, with dark clouds visible in the sky.

But outside the gate of the City God Temple, there are still many people from Jiazhou.

These people are all old neighbors who live nearby, and they have organized themselves to attend the funeral of Mr. Zhu Wang, the former temple of the City God Temple.

Mr. Wang is a good old man who is kind and kind. During his lifetime, he served as the presiding temple of the City God Temple, and for more than 30 years, he was deeply loved by the people nearby.

"Mr. Wang is more than seventy years old, he has no illness or disaster, and he passed away at the end of his life, which can be regarded as a happy funeral. ”

"I wish Mr. Wang a good journey and a good reward in the next life. ”

"Since Mr. Wang served as the temple blessing of the City God Temple, our western effect is smooth weather, and everyone is grateful for Mr. Wang's goodness. I don't know how the new temple is going. ”

"The auspicious time has arrived, look, the new temple is on fire. ”

The onlookers whispered to Haotian to bid farewell to Mr. Wang.

At this moment, a pile of firewood was erected outside the temple gate.

On the pyre, there sat an old man in a linen robe with old hair and a dry appearance. His eyes were closed, his face was stiff and gray, and his body was shrunk into his robe as if he were asleep.

The former temple of the City God, Mr. Zhu Wang, has been dead for six days.

Today is the seventh day, and according to the rules, the new temple will light the pyre and burn Mr. Wang's remains. That is, Mr. Wang has since ascended to heaven, but he has been in the dust.

The new Miaozhu is a tall and thin middle-aged man. He held a flaming torch in his right hand, pointed to the sky with his left, whispered a few prayers, and threw the torch into the pyre.

In an instant, the fire rose and the green smoke rose out.

In a moment, the flames had already reached Mr. Wang's remains. Flammable places such as clothes and hair are immediately filled with smoke and fire dust.

The new temple Zhu who lit the fire stepped back a few steps, staring at the fireworks with a calm face. Behind him stood several monks, Taoist priests, Confucian scholars, and other guests who had been invited to observe the ceremony. They all stood silently and solemnly, and they couldn't see joy or anger.

Seeing that the firewood pile was blazing, it was about to drown Mr. Wang's remains.

Suddenly!

Mr. Wang, who has been dead for six days, suddenly opened his eyes!

He let out a startled exclamation and kicked his leg violently, his whole body falling backwards. Bang, smashed to the ground, embarrassed.

The burning pyre also collapsed with an uproar.

Flames, black smoke, and debris were splashed all over the floor, and there was a big mess.

Before all the onlookers came to their senses, Mr. Wang, who had fallen to the ground, had already jumped up quickly, not at all like an old corpse, and rushed to the big water tank under the eaves of the temple in a few steps and threw himself into the tank.

Bang, the water splashed, the puffing green smoke rose, and the flames on Mr. Wang's body had been extinguished. And his whole body sank into the water tank, and there was no movement for a long time.

"Whoa......!!"

At this moment, all the onlookers were shocked and inexplicable.

The audience is boiling!

............

Pain.

The burning pain of the fire.

The whole body is like being pierced by countless steel needles, the head seems to be about to burst, the eyelids are like being scraped by a knife, and the mouth and nostrils are choking and spicy, which is extremely uncomfortable.

Wang Chong opened his eyes suddenly, and there was a blazing fire in front of him.

"Where am I?"

"What's the situation? I'm burned?"

Without thinking too much about it, Wang Chong tried his best to kick his legs backwards and fall to the ground. At a glance, he caught a glimpse of the large water tank next to him, and immediately threw himself into the water tank with fire chips all over his body.

Poof, all the flames were soaked out, and Wang Chong felt that he had escaped death.

"I fell asleep while I was reading? And then there was a fire in my house? No way! Where did I get a big water tank in my house?"

"It's a hallucination, right? I've been under a lot of pressure at work lately, and I'm hallucinating? No! My face and hands have been burned by the fire, and it's still stinging, it's definitely not a hallucination! And the water is cold, it's also real!"

"I can move my limbs, I can see my surroundings clearly, I can hear these people praying, my mouth can open, my nose is holding my breath, it's all real!"

"Where the hell am I? Am I dreaming!"

Wang Chong's thinking was chaotic, both surprised and surprised, but he was already holding his breath to the limit. Due to the lack of oxygen, he began to feel dizzy, and immediately stopped his wild speculation, and the hand water tank poked his head out again.

Call...... Wang Chong took a long breath and exhaled, feeling the air swirling in his chest, indescribably cool. But at the same time, it is more proof that everything is real.

When I opened my eyes, I saw many stunned onlookers. Then there was a fly-like uproar, and some people were even scared silly.

Wang Chong's mind was still in chaos at the moment, and suddenly not far from him, a monk with a round face and big ears took a step forward.

"Mani Horn Mi Mi!" the monk held his chest and chanted to the crowd.

Although the chanting voice was not loud, it actually attracted everyone's attention, and they stopped talking and looked at each other in unison, silent.

As the monk walked out, another Taoist priest held up a small gossip mirror in his palm, and then the Confucian student beside the Taoist priest quickly wrote a few words on the gossip mirror with his finger as a pen.

Immediately afterwards, a juggler behind Confucius stretched out his two fingers and pulled them into the air. Suddenly, a rope fell from the air, and he raised his arm to throw the Taoist priest up and threw it onto the rope.

The Taoist priest seemed to be stepping on a hanging ladder, holding up a small gossip mirror and shining it at everyone.

A dazzling light flashed, as dazzling as if looking directly at the sun.

Wang Chong's eyes were immediately covered by white light, and then his eyes went black, and his thoughts and consciousness seemed to fall into the dark abyss, and he no longer knew what had happened.

I don't know how long it took, Wang Chong woke up.

When he opened his eyes, he was already lying on a wooden bed. From the humble window, the dark night shines in. The light in the bedroom is like beans, hazy and cold.

"It's already night?" Wang Chong quickly sat up from the bed.

As consciousness and senses fully regained consciousness, Wang Chong looked around.

Quaint beds, a few light-colored bamboo chairs, and a brown desk. Then there are the blue brick floors and walls, on which are hung several splashed landscape paintings. In addition, there are two wooden cabinets inlaid with bronze locks, as well as washing racks.

"This ......" Wang Chong recalled everything he had seen before, and then looked at all this in front of him, and a ridiculous thought flashed in his surprised and dazed heart.

I, I'm not going to cross over!

As the idea of "crossing" was realized, Wang Chong immediately gasped again, quickly jumped out of bed, and rushed to the wardrobe outside.

On the side of the old wardrobe hangs a polished bronze mirror.

In the mirror, the image of Wang Chong is clearly visible.

It was an old man in his seventies, of moderate stature, with a head full of disheveled hair, drooping eyelids, and wrinkles all over his cheeks. Dressed in a plain dark blue robe, he bent his body.

The only consolation is that the burned areas on the face and hands have been coated with some kind of potion, and the scars have faded, and there are only shallow residual traces.

"I actually crossed over to an old man who was about to die......"

"No, it's an old man who has already died once......"

Wang Chong muttered to himself, and the fragmented memories of the original owner also began to be recalled. It's just that because of the crossing of the house, many memories are blurred.

The original owner is an ordinary scholar, who came to Jiazhou City God Temple in his thirties to serve as the presiding temple celebration, after more than 30 years, he was not shocked. Then, seven days ago, he died. After seven days of mortuary according to the rules, the remains were cremated.

There is no commendable experience, and it can't be more ordinary.

"Peaceful, no relatives and no children, unknown for more than 30 years, living in a simple house, died in a deep sleep without illness or disaster...... There is no inheritance......"

That's all Wang Chong can recall.

As for the profound specialness, it seems to have been erased, and I can't remember it at all.

"It seems that I need to be reminded by others, or something that I can come into contact with?" Wang Chong diverged his thoughts, feeling that there was something in his memory, but he couldn't figure it out.

"I'm in my seventies, how long can I live?"

Wang Chong was a little disappointed and a little irritable. The crossing has become a fact, then it means that his former relatives, friends, and lovers have disappeared from now on.

"Xia Guo...... Lugang ...... Jiazhou ......"

Wang Chong recalled the names without any familiarity. So this is a strange ancient world, and the difficulty of survival will also be invisibly raised......

Wang Chong pondered with heavy eyebrows, looked at the wrinkled skin on his arms, the scars that were so shallow that they were about to dissipate, and smelled the faint fragrance of medicine, and couldn't help but feel a shock in his heart:

"A magical potion that fades instantly...... Those monks, Taoist priests, Confucian scholars, and others I have seen seem to have spells!"

"The fire burns and does not die...... Resurrection from the dead......"

"Then it's not impossible for me to find a way to rejuvenate myself, or to prolong my life, to regain my youth, and so on! I still have a chance to remedy it, and there is hope! If I really have magical powers, I can even wear it back to the earth......

Wang Chong thought so, and sat back on the edge of the bed, thinking about how he had crossed over. It seems that at that time, he was reading a book about "Fu Zhao".

As soon as he thought of the name "Fu Zhao", the depths of Wang Chong's mind suddenly lit up. It was as if something was vague and about to emerge.

At this time.

The wooden door of the bedroom, which has been closed, buzzed, and opened without wind.

Wang Chong looked up.

............

PS: This book has been signed.

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