I stood at the entrance of Nanliu Village, thinking about the past, and couldn't help but stand for a while.

Fat Dahai was puzzled and pulled me: "Boss, what's wrong?" What's in a daze? ”

I came back from the past and hurriedly said, "It's nothing, let's go into the village." ”

And just like last time, we carried the necessary things on our backs, parked the car near the entrance of the village, and we walked into the village.

After a year, I returned to Nanliu Village again. This time and the last time I came, it was completely different, and it felt like going to two completely different places.

The last time we entered the village, we encountered a strange incident at the entrance of the village, and we were beaten on the back of a donkey. After entering the village, there is no half of the figure in sight. The whole village is like a ghost village.

It may be that after we left, the trouble in the village was gone, and when we returned here, we found that the village was filled with smoke and the smell of rice everywhere. From time to time, children can be seen running around, chasing and playing.

This kind of scene is the real world, and it is even more reassuring to watch.

After a year, the overall layout of the village has not changed significantly. According to my previous impression, I took the fat sea to the old stall's house.

We walked around the edge of the village, from the head of the village to the end of the village. Due to the remoteness of this village, there should be very few people in normal times. As soon as the fat man and I walked through the village, the villagers were surprised and stopped what they were doing and stared at the two of us. The children followed us, singing and dancing.

I don't like to be looked at like this, but the fat man likes to be lively, and he still turns around and teases those children from time to time.

I whispered to Fat Dahai to hurry up, and when I was about to reach the end of the village, most of the children suddenly dispersed. There were only two or three six- and seven-year-olds left.

I squatted down and asked the three children, "Little friends, let me ask you, is there an old stall in your village?" You should call him Grandpa's ......"

One of the little boys pointed in the direction away from the village: "He's not a stall grandfather, he's an old ghost stall, he lives over there......"

Before the little boy could finish his words, several people suddenly rushed out of the village, and without saying a word, they took the three children away with them. Look at those people like parents of these children.

The fat man looked very strange, so he asked, "Boss, what's wrong with these people?" I followed all the way to get here, and I ran away. As if there was something ahead of them that scared them? Also, why do they call the old stall head an old ghost? ”

I thought about it, and I understood, so I explained to Fat Dahai: "Do you know who the old stall we are looking for is? ”

Fat Dahai said: "Didn't you tell me, what kind of bone picker he is. ”

I nodded: "Bone pickers seem to us to be a profession, a profession. In particular, this profession also belongs to the Six Little Yin Sects. But in the eyes of these ordinary villagers, the old stall is a strange person who deals with corpses and dead people all day long. Some time ago, when the cliff burial was practiced here, the bones of the dead he picked were all separated from flesh and blood, and it was disgusting to hear. You say that such a person is in the company of entities on a daily basis

It is very appropriate to be called an old ghost by others. Who still wants to be a neighbor with him, and who wants to contact him when he's fine? ”

Fat Dahai suddenly realized: "Oh...... No wonder they took the children away in a hurry. ”

I pointed to the front and said, "So the place where the old stall head lives is also very far away from the rest of the village. If I'm not mistaken, it should be right ahead. ”

We were almost out of the village. There are few villagers' houses around, scattered with some broken bricks and tiles, and wild grass is also all under the feet.

I recognized it a few times, and I felt that I should have gone correctly. It seems to be even more desolate than the last time I visited.

Sure enough, we walked more than 100 meters forward, and a house appeared in the distance.

I quickened my pace, and was about to approach the house, when I heard a muffled sound of a horn.

The trumpet was so low that it was barely audible in tune, except that it sounded like a stone had been pressed against someone's chest, and he couldn't breathe.

Fat Dahai was stunned for a moment and said, "Boss, why do I sound like crying and mourning?" Didn't this thing blow at the funeral? ”

"Crying and mourning?" I know that the customs are different from place to place, but the funeral process is very similar. Although there will be differences, the overall tone is sad and painful.

This kind of crying and mourning cry that the fat man said, it really sounds a little familiar to me. It is usually heard at a funeral or funeral.

My heart sank, and the sound of this trumpet clearly came from the old stall's house.

"Boss, this old stall can't be dead, right?" Fat Dahai suddenly asked.

"Don't talk nonsense. How is it possible, the old man is tough......"

I threw out a sentence, quickened my pace again, and led the fat sea to the door of the old stall.

At the gate of the courtyard of the old stall's house, there was really a white cloth hanging. The piercing cry of mourning came from the courtyard, one high and one low.

I was in a hurry, and I didn't have time to knock on the door, so I pushed open the courtyard door and walked in.

In the middle of the courtyard, I saw a black lacquer coffin directly. In front of the coffin is a portrait hung with a black cloth. In front of the portrait are lit three incense sticks and an everlasting lamp.

On the portrait, the old stall head was full of wrinkles and a serious face.

Is it really the old stall head who died?

My head buzzed. We were here at that time, and we lived and died together with the old stall head once, and the feelings that came out of the tribulation cannot be expressed in words. And the old stall head, although he is engaged in that kind of cold-blooded profession, is still a good person to say, and his heart is also very kind. He was also very attentive to me, and when we left, we ate the pancakes he had set up himself, but he said that the time was too rushed and we didn't play well. said that one day he would stop doing this business, and he would definitely go back to his old job and give me a good pancake to eat.

I also joked at the time, unless you change your hands, who would dare to eat the pancakes that you pick up bones and spread out?

The joke at that time was still in my ears, but I didn't expect that this time I would be separated by yin and yang?

The lid of the coffin was tightly attached to the coffin, and it was impossible to see the inside. Next to the coffin sat a half-grown man who looked no more than twenty years old. The boy was dressed in plain clothes, and he was blowing a bull horn, and the whining sound of the horn came from here.

Except for the two of us and this lad, there was no fourth person in sight in the whole yard.

(End of chapter)

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