"The kid is gone."

Shi Wuqi said.

As he crossed the barrier, he carried the girl on one shoulder, his arm around his shoulder. She closed her eyes gently, leaving a pair of unrefreshed gaps. They guessed she couldn't see anything, like someone who had fallen asleep. The loss of mobility of a living person should be limp, but her stiff body still shows the identity of her corpse.

Wu Qi said that he was not sure how long the world outside the Swamp of the Dead had passed, probably dozens of days, because the closure was not yet closed, but it was almost over. When he went up, he saw only the familiar dilapidated house. There were no more kapok trees in the yard, and a huge pit was left in the courtyard, showing how dense her root system used to be. Feeling a moment of depression, a burst of nothingness, he pushed the door in worry. But there was no one in the house, and the bedding was still hot, perhaps she had just left. He walked out of the courtyard and looked around, but saw no shadow or footprints. Who might have taken her away, I don't know if it was the Immortal Moon King.

If it was the Immortal Moon Monarch, it was more likely that they would take it away. They can leave through other doors, or Miss Qi will be threatened. He was a little glad that he was the only one to go back, and he didn't have to go back, and Ah Qi, who had originally picked up the burial head river, could leave. He also spent some time with the Kapok girl, and knew that she was a good girl, and her life should not be like this. It is probably a good thing that others do not feel the same or worse grief as he does. Especially Mu Wan.

But she is still trapped in a different kind of grief, unable to extricate herself.

Shi Wuqi was a little apprehensive about himself. Because ordinary people should feel very sad, he only felt seven or eight points, and if it was his former self - or she was just Mu Wan's friend, this feeling would be even less. He often felt that he was a heartless person, and that his joys and sorrows were not in harmony with human beings. Perhaps, this is the reason why the House of the Weeping Corps was established.

…… Why is it called the Weeping House? He doesn't remember.

Shi Wuqi came back with Qi, and when he passed through that door, he ordered himself to throw away those redundant feelings. Speaking of which, this gate is also two flowering trees from the outside, and it is more beautiful than any human creation.

What he wants to do most now is to flip through the Ten Thousand Ghost Chronicles left in Shanhai's hands. They decided to leave before the door changed positions and went to the nearest place in Qinglize. Although it is close to the outside, there is still a long way to go alone.

"You shouldn't be able to see in that wasteland." Shan Hai said, "Jiyue-kun said, it's spring now. ”

"I know. It's warm in this world. ”

Jiyue-kun and Kami-no-kun didn't accompany them out. They need to get back to a certain point and continue with their work with no end in sight. In order to recover the Ten Thousand Ghost Will, Ruyue-kun left the Swamp of the Dead with them.

They came out of the door. This is an ordinary red torii gate, giving them a special illusion as if they really came back from the same way they came. But once they wore it, they knew it wasn't. Here is another spiritual vein as a buffer, and in their eyes, the spiritual vein here is not pure white, not starry, nor a whirlpool that disturbs the air flow. It is more like a deep space, dark but not monotonous, revealing a strange sense of depth.

The exit is also black, and it is not clear to see, so Ruyuejun leaves first. Shanhai guarantees that the others go out first and leave last. His vision went from one darkness to another. He felt some coldness in his back, some hardness, gravity was downward, and he was lying somewhere. Reaching out, he felt the hard board.

It's a small space.

"Stop making a fuss." He heard Shi Wuqi's voice, but he laughed a little, "Quickly release your master." ”

So, a ray of light appeared in the line of sight. It's light, but it's soft, because it's also a part of the darkness. It was late at night, and the faint moonlight shone on his face. Shanhai slowly sat up.

Another coffin. This feeling is really familiar, as if the day I returned to Xuanzheng Town and visited the Lord of the Hundred Bones.

It's desolate here. Until now, they still maintained a terrifying and respectable silence, and just now Shi Wuqi said a word, with Dai Luan's hearty laughter. But this did not substantially ease the current atmosphere. She observed carefully, and the corners of Mu Wan's mouth twitched stiffly, more like a conditioned reflex than coping with an errand. But neither was what she wanted.

There was no shop in front of the village and no store behind it, and several people found a towering tree. Spring may have arrived, and the bonfires illuminate the canopy of the trees, and you can see the sprouts rising from them. The woods here are also sparse, and wolves can be heard crying in the distance. But whether it is a real plant or a restless beast, it gives them a sense of returning to the present world, and it is all lit up by the firelight, and it is all more vivid.

They were tired, but they weren't sleepy. Several people all looked at Shi Wuqi, with an indescribable urgency in their eyes. He simply doubted that none of them cared more about the answer to the question than he cared about the answer to the question.

Miss Qi's answer.

Shan Hai handed him Wan Ghost Zhi with both hands, and he took it with one hand seemingly casually. They formed a circle around the bonfire, and the mountains and seas were to the left of Miss Qi, and Miss Qi was to the left of Wuqi. On his right was Ruyuejun, who was originally sitting, and Ah Luan ran over from the opposite side and drilled into his side to probe his brain. Only Mu Wan was sitting opposite him, his eyes stunned, but he was also staring at Wan Ghost Zhi.

The unabandoned hand swept over the yellowed cover. I don't know if the paper itself is not very good, or if it is too old, it is very soft and brittle, as if it will be broken when pinched, but it can break the thread. Although it is the Chronicle of Ten Thousand Ghosts, even these three big characters have never been written on the cover. There is no functional and commemorative explanation, which seems a little inexplicable. But this may be better, more in line with Liang Yuejun's temperament.

Strangely, Shi Wuqi itself does not have a sense of solemnity in its presupposition. Maybe he had thought about this scene too many times, but he felt a little calm, as if he had accepted the rehearsal. It's just that the effect of the performance and the audience's reaction are unknown. Surrounded by many friends, he slowly opened it.

The Ten Thousand Ghosts look very thin, but in fact, if you look at it, it is almost endless. But Ruyue-kun told him that the reader only needed to think about the specific appearance and feelings of a monster in his heart, and come up with the impression that the monster left on him, and at the same time turn the pages of the book, and then use his fingertips to stay somewhere, and then he could see the memories of his past and present lives.

"What if someone is posing as a youkai!" Dai Luan asked.

"Although I haven't turned it over, I have also asked Liang Yuejun. He said at the time that you had turned to the page where the pretender wanted you to see the youkai. But it doesn't matter, the Ten Thousand Ghosts itself is not a tool of resistance. Lord of the Hundred Remains, let's take a look at it quickly, you are only allowed to see one person, and you will return it to me when you find it. ”

They gladly accepted and continued to stare at Shi Wuren's hand. He didn't feel nervous, and his hands didn't tremble, but he felt that his whole arm was weightless, light and fluttering. He was a little afraid that he would not be able to grasp the strength well, and a slight force would destroy the Ten Thousand Ghosts. But if something really goes wrong, maybe it's too old.

Wu Qi glanced at Miss Qi, as if to reconfirm her existence. She responded with his familiar look—eyes devoid of waves and brilliance, and stiff, smiling lips.

He smiled stiffly back.

Then, he stood up to the Ten Thousand Ghosts, gently flipped it, and slowly withdrew his thumb from the corner of the book, letting it flow with a swish. Cinnabar is like dried blood, and the color is still bright red, after all, it is.

Turning to the last page, at the bottom is the only text in the whole book written in black ink, a small and slender string.

Xi Shu Wenxiang, Liang Yuejun.

There is no record of Seven.

No, nothing.

He raised his head and looked at the girl with some blankness. The others looked at them, and then at Ruyue-kun. Feeling a little confused, she tilted her face slightly, and motioned for him to turn it over again.

Again, the same result.

After that, Shi Wuqi insisted on watching it seven or eight times. Although he already knew when he erected the spine for the third time, he couldn't find the answer he was looking for on it. Even if he was lucky, he secretly wondered if Ruyuejun was mistaken, this was fake. But Dai Luan immediately questioned this question, and Ruyuejun made a guarantee.

"Or maybe you got something wrong in the first place." She said, "What if she's not a youkai?" ”

The passage is deep and empty. In the desolate moonlight, Shi Wuqi saw that Ruyuejun's eyes were as silent as stagnant water.

What is reflected there is probably the appearance of his heart.

On this night, Shi Wuqi was not the only one who was disheartened. Far away, in another corner of the night, there was someone who was in a much similar mood to him, but in a much worse situation.

Jiang Doudou fell asleep, in another small room in the hotel, across the corridor. She waited for them unexpectedly, and developed some kind of strange dependence on the humans in them, and an undeserved trust. This is probably a biological instinct. After all, it was indeed Tang He who did it himself to save her from the bandits—at the behest of the Immortal Moon Monarch. But he didn't return her to the poor and comfortable home, which no longer existed anyway. In her simple cognition, she is treated as a human being, given food and clothing, and is considered a good person.

Tang He didn't know if she was so "stupid" at the beginning, or if she had been treated inhumanely in the bandits' den. At least in his memory, both himself and Tang Yu were much more alert at this age. This girl had nothing to do with him, and he should not have any feelings for this "captive" or "tool", but the reverse feelings were the first to connect. It made his perhaps human heart uneasy. He knew very well that he shouldn't have this kind of thought, and tried to get rid of it.

"When farmers slaughter sheep, they will be the first to throw away the memory of each other's company." Behind him, the Immortal Moon said, "I allow you to have a momentary pity. ”

Should he be grateful for it? Never.

His hand holding the whetstone slid across the blade one last time, his breath trembling as the candlelight on the table shook with him.

"Or ...... Don't be afraid, right? Well? ”

The hand holding the whetstone trembled for a moment, as if Kannakun had once again cut the flesh of his back with a knife, leaving a notch on his spine. It was the only time he turned his back on him in normal combat, and it only happened for a moment. The burning pain of the fire struck again, but the shivering and tingling sensation made the whole body cold in an instant.

But Tang He quickly realized that it was Immortal Moon Jun who deliberately swiped his fingers across his bandaged back. Through the fabric, from the right shoulder to the left waist. Frivolous, slow, and harsh.

The black blade flashed white light for a moment.

He was still sitting there, not moving at all, just swinging his knife backwards. In the brief blink of an eye, the Immortal Moon Monarch had already retreated far away by instinct. It was far enough that even if Tang He stretched out his arm and connected to the length of the knife, he couldn't touch him.

But at that moment, there was indeed a hint of coolness flashing on his neck.

In the center of the fair-skinned and slender neck, a slender red line spreads and cracks at a speed visible to the naked eye. Immortal Moon Jun stretched out his finger and gently wiped the mark, moving his hand in front of his eyes. The crimson blood flashed on the fingertips, as if dipped in cinnabar, bright and distinct. The afterimage of the sword light was still in his field of vision, and the hum of the blade in the air echoed in his ears.

"Aren't you a little bit of a talent?"

As soon as the words fell, the head of the person with black hair was misplaced along the inclined incision, slipped down, and landed steadily between the outstretched hands of the Immortal Moon Monarch, unexpectedly calm. There was no splattering blood, no scorching and boiling smoke, only a gurgling, cool red slowly overflowing, sliding through the skin, stassing in the neck sockets, continuing to spread downward, engulfing in the same scarlet robe.

Like holding a light lotus flower, the red eyes are still shining on the faces in those hands, and the red lips are still chattering.

"But that's not all you have left, are you?"