In the season when the flowers bloom on the other side, the underworld is a rare spring.

The lonely Hong roared away, and the incompatible gray feathers broke through the spring sky, leisurely, and returned to nothing.

She stumbled over to the sound of ding-dong.

She knew that it was the voice of the underworld.

The fog barrier of confusion seemed to break through in an instant, and she saw the scene in front of her.

A bridge, a river, a woman.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and her steps stopped slightly.

The old woman was dressed in red, obviously a scorching color, but she was forced to wear a tired state.

The sound of ding-dong stopped, and the conjuring was finished.

The old woman is clearly closed, but her heart is like a mirror.

After being silent for a long time, the old woman spoke: "You are here after all." ”

The tone was like a sneer, and the ditches on his face were vertical and horizontal, but he couldn't hide the elegance of the past.

She was silent. It was all so familiar, as if she had stepped in and out countless times, but when she wanted to remember, her mind went blank.

The old woman stirred a bowl of turbid soup in her hand and sneered: "Yes, you don't remember." ”

She became more and more confused, and her eyes shot straight at the old woman.

The old woman hooked her hands and folded an unknown small flower on her head.

"I don't like that kind of look. You'd better take it back. ”

She simply lifted her robe and sat on the floor. "I was born to be myself, why should you like my eyes?"

The old woman laughed: "I didn't expect that hundreds of years have passed, and your temperament is still like this." ”

She clasped her hands around her knees: "Who are you?" Who am I? ”

The old woman's smile suddenly stopped.

"Who am I?" The old woman asked in a low voice, her voice as ethereal as the meager light in this underworld.

The old woman sighed suddenly.

"I am... Meng Po. ”

She nodded, but didn't speak, as if insisting on asking all the answers.

The old woman handed over the bowl in her hand: "That's it, I can't beat you with your temperament, you drink it, I'll tell you." ”

She looked at the black-brown soup in her hand, this is Meng Po soup, right?

She stopped thinking and threw herself up.

The old woman looked at her kindly and said, "Peach Blossom, you will remember." ”

Peach blossoms? She frowned, wanting to listen any more, but suddenly found that her spirit was slowly withdrawing from her body and floating into the air.

The old woman's mouth was closed one by one, but she could no longer hear any sound, and could only vaguely distinguish the words "spring" and "peach blossom" from the shape of her mouth.

Spring scenery? Peach blossom? I didn't have time to think about it, she had already entered reincarnation.

The summoned spirits were reincarnated one after another, and the old woman watched their spirits drift away and their bodies turned into the earth, which was not strange.

The sound of ding-dong sounded again, it was a new round of spiritualism.

The old woman sent away a batch, and finally ushered in a short period of peace.

"Meng Po, have you forgotten the Yama Order? Revealing the memories of the Yang Realm at will will be punished. The old man's voice has a demagogic vicissitudes of life, and it reaches the ears of the old woman.

The old woman sneered disdainfully: "Take back your Gu technique." ”

The old man's voice was flat.

The old woman was obviously familiar with him, and casually stroked the folds on the red clothes: "The laws of the ghost world, the rules of the Yama Palace, my Meng Po takes them very seriously." ”

The look on the old woman's face was very serious.

"But for friendship, my Meng Po values it more. Even, its existence in my heart, heavier than Mount Tai. ”

The old man's voice froze again. "However, she is no longer the same person she used to be!"

The old woman looked around and pointed to the largest flower: "Look, is it beautiful?" ”

Without waiting for the voice to answer, the old woman answered on her own. "Naturally it's good-looking. But this flower will always grow old and even wither. ”

"When I pay for her, you should think that I am to her, she is to me, and I am no better than this other flower, withered, and replaced with a new one."

"Whether she remembers the past or not, she and I will always be the same her."

"What is the memory of me, Meng Po? It's a big deal to take a bite of Meng Po soup, and I also went with her. But I can't.

"But people always have to remember what they were, didn't they?"

The old voice was silent.

The old woman said to herself, "I believe that she will come back." When she returns the favor, she will always come back. ”

The red clothes are sassy, and the underworld is instantly peaceful.

The old woman trembled and shook the woodcarved copper staff in her hand again.

The beginning of the soul.

"Those who came from ancient times are the essence of heaven and earth. Tracing back to the past, there is a peach blossom in the south of the mountain, the only one branch, the horizontal vines, the color is like a peach, the spirit of heaven and earth gathers, the brilliance of all things. The old Zhiyan said that this flower is a phoenix feather, with the early dew of the Tianshan Mountains, the heart of the snow lotus, and the holy immortal system. Every spring in early spring and twilight, the brilliance is condensed, so the flowers are in spring, very good. After reading a hundred years, the peach blossoms have no shadow, and the peach blossoms are dying, turning into people, lying in the world of desire, and reporting the grace of spring. - "Divine Record"

There is always a clear way to know what is right and wrong.