||->-> Text Chapter 1 A Living Child in the Grave

Twelve years ago, in Lingshan County, Jiangnan, a village called "Mu Basin" in the lower reaches of the Crescent River, a terrifying and strange thing happened.

The Mu Basin is in the lower reaches of the Crescent River, and as soon as the villagers look up, half a mile to the west, is the high embankment of the Crescent River.

There are more than 100 families in the village, almost all of whom have the surname Mu, with the same roots and seedlings.

There is only one miscellaneous surname, which is the first family under Heti. The family's surname is Ding.

Ding Zhiming, the head of the household, is an honest man in his thirties, and the hostess Mu Cuizhen is from this village. The couple raised two sons, the eldest son was ten years old and the younger son was seven years old. Ding Zhiming's father, the old man Ding Yougui is still alive, seventy years old, neither deaf nor hunched, and his body is tough. Life is rich, family and beauty.

Even when it comes to economic conditions, the Ding family can be regarded as the richest man in the village. At that time, four small buildings were built. The white tiles on the exterior wall, the red glazed tiles on the roof, and the spacious cement floor in front of the door have attracted many envious eyes.

But when a man sits at home, evil comes from heaven. Just after the winter solstice, Ding Ermiao, the youngest son of the Ding family, turned out! Ten thousand! Book! Let's do it! The novel wanshuba.com sick to death!

Ding Ermiao is only seven years old and has not been in school for a semester. This child is beautiful, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, white teeth and red lips, and a pink little face, and the same face. Compared with Mu Ne's eldest son, the clever and lively Ding Ermiao is obviously more likable.

Because the Ding family has been passed down for many generations, it finally branched out in the hands of Ding Zhiming and had two sons. So the child was named Ermiao. The name also bears the characteristics of a girl. Habitual babies use girls' names, which are said to be easier to raise.

However, when Ding Ermiao was just one year old, a passing scholar showed Ding Ermiao's face. The Xiangshi said that Ding Ermiao's face was very strange and riddled with calamities. In the future, if you don't practice in Buddhism, you will have to practice in Taoism. Otherwise, you will not live as an adult.

These words made Ding Zhiming very unhappy, and he almost drove away Xiangshi without hesitation. But he didn't expect ......, in the end, Ding Ermiao's fate was really like this!

On the evening of the second day after the winter solstice, Ding Ermiao brought a bowl of rice to his hand, and before he could eat it, suddenly there was a loud sound, and the rice bowl in his hand fell to the ground. Ding Zhiming turned his head to look, only to see Ding Ermiao roll his eyes, and fell to the ground motionless.

Ding Zhiming hurriedly sent the child to the town hospital, and the doctor tested Ermiao's snort and pulse with his hands, and then shook his head slowly.

From the moment the bowl was thrown to death, it was only an hour or two.

This accident dealt a great blow to the Ding family. Ding Zhiming took the child's body home, stayed by his side, squatted on the ground and cried all night. Not to mention Mu Cuizhen, she has already cried and fainted many times.

Only the old man Ding, Ding Yougui, looked up to the sky and sighed: "Providence, providence!" ”

The next morning, the people surnamed Mu in the village rushed over to offer condolences. Everyone seemed to empathize with the grief of the Ding family, and every family sent a condolence payment of 200 yuan.

Ding Zhiming is not short of money, and his personality is upright, so he doesn't want to accept condolences from the villagers. But the villagers were resolute and insisted on Ding Zhiming to accept it.

The two sides excused themselves for a long time, and there was a stalemate.

Old Man Ding called his son aside, sighed and said, "Take it, if you don't collect this money, the people surnamed Mu in the entire village will not be at ease." ”

"This, this...... What is the meaning? Why are people uneasy? Ding Zhiming frowned, not knowing what his father meant.

"Well...... these things, I'll tell you about them in a few days. In short, Ermiao's death was providential and predestined. The old man sighed and continued: "The will of heaven cannot be violated, take the child ...... Buried it. ”

Ding Zhiming is a filial son, although he is sad in his heart, but he did not get to the bottom of the old man's words, but listened to the old man's words and accepted the condolences from the villagers in the village.

That morning, with the help of the villagers, a small coffin was carried out of the door. On the slope three miles in front of the village, there is a small earthen tomb. This mound is like a round full stop, ending Ding Ermiao's short life.

After burying the second seedling, Ding Zhiming stood in front of his house, looking at the southern hillside in a daze. At this time yesterday, Er Miao was still alive, but in a blink of an eye, it was already yin and yang!

Behind him, his wife Mu Cuizhen walked over with red and swollen eyes, and said in a hoarse voice: "Child, father, look at the sky, it's getting dark, you ......, you can send a lamp to the child." The southern slopes are full of pine trees and weeds, and the child has only ...... passed, and at night it is dark and rumbling, and he, he must be afraid. ”

Before she finished speaking, Mu Cuizhen burst into tears again.

Ding Zhiming also had tears in his eyes, choked up and said, "I know, I know." I'll make a lamp for Ermiao and send it to him right away......"

In the mountains of this area, there is such a custom. For those who have just been buried, a relative will send a lamp to the grave on the first night, which is the guiding light on the Huangquan Road.

This kind of guide light is made of thin bamboo poles. The bamboo pole, about one zhang long, breaks through the front end and opens a circle the size of the bowl. Then a candle is lit in a circle, and then a red paper is pasted to make a trumpet-shaped lamp.

Ding Zhiming made the guiding light, and it was already evening. He held the lamp in his hand and walked to the south slope with tears in his eyes.

When he arrived at Ermiao's grave, Ding Zhiming burned a few pieces of paper, put a bamboo pole lamp on Ermiao's grave, and cried for a long time, sad.

It was already dark, and because it was the first half of the moon, the half moon crossed the trees and hung in the sky. The moonlight shone through the leaves and dappled the ground.

The evening breeze whined, and the leaves were whining. In the distance, there are even more old eagles crying at night, and the quacking ground only makes people's hearts frightened.

Such a scene made Ding Zhiming's heart a little hairy. In the wilderness, he was also worried about a ghost popping up suddenly. After one last glance at Er Miao's grave, Ding Zhiming wiped away his tears, turned around and left.

But at this moment, a low shout suddenly came from behind him: "Stop......!" ”

Ding Zhiming was so frightened that his legs trembled, and he hurriedly turned around to look. I saw a man turn out of the dwarf pine forest a few steps away.

The person who came was about seventy years old, lean, with two mouse's beards on his cheeks, a backpack on his shoulders, and a set of bright yellow Taoist robes, and a yellow Taoist hat on his head, and a pattern of gossip yin and yang fish on the Taoist hat.

"You, you...... Is it a human or a ghost? Ding Zhiming's voice trembled a little. He also lived to be in his thirties, but he had never seen anyone dressed like this. Although judging from the clothes, the person in front of him is exactly the same as the Taoist priest on TV, but in the Mu Basin area, there are no temples and Taoist temples. Ding Zhiming didn't know where this person came from.

The Taoist stepped forward in the moonlight, stood two feet away in front of Ding Zhiming, glared at Ding Zhiming and asked, "Do you think I look like a ghost?" ”

As soon as the Taoist opened his mouth, Ding Zhiming smelled the smoke in his mouth. He immediately understood that this was not a ghost, but a living person.

"Are you a Taoist priest?" Ding Zhiming asked hesitantly.

"Under the surname Qiu, the big name is the three poor. You can call me the Chief of the Three Poor Roads. The Taoist nodded, circled around Ding Zhiming, and finally pointed to Ding Ermiao's grave and asked, "Who are you buried in this tomb?" ”

"It's my son Ding Ermiao, who is only seven years old and ...... Sick and died. ”

"!" The Third Poor Dao Chief was furious, turned his head and shouted, "Your son hasn't swallowed his breath yet, so you buried him?" What a ruthless father! ”

Ding Zhiming's body was shocked, as if he had been struck by lightning.