The fortune teller's pretty wife lazily put on her clothes and searched every room, but still did not find her husband. To her surprise, as if her husband had made an appointment with someone else, no one came to him today to count the eight characters. In the old days, there were already people waiting in groups outside the house at the door.

She took the latch and opened the door, and it was deserted outside, with no one there. There were only two or three sparrows jumping around on the floor. An inexplicable panic rose from the bottom of my heart.

After going back to the house and sitting for a while, she finally couldn't bear it anymore and got up to ask her neighbors.

At this time, the sun has come out, and the sun is shining. Someone was drying clothes on a bamboo pole on the floor of the neighbor's house. She asked the man if he had seen her husband.

She was surprised by the neighbor's answer, who asked her who her husband was.

She thought her neighbor was joking with her, so she asked again. But the neighbor replied very seriously, saying that he really did not know that there was such a person.

She gave her neighbor a roll of the eye and walked to another house. Rural women are generally drying their clothes on their floors at this time. She asked another woman who was drying her clothes. The man still asked back who she was talking about. A chill spread through her body from the ground.

She panicked, hurried to the next house, and asked her husband again. The answer is still not to know that there is such a person. She was crazy and asked where her husband was, but everyone said they didn't know him.

She theorized with others that her husband's parents died early, and when he was a child, he ate in the east and west of the village, and everyone here watched him grow up, so it was impossible not to know him. Besides, we'll live there. She pointed to her home and said, "This house has been here for decades, you know."

But the villagers told her that the house was known, and that the owner of the house knew about it. But the owner of the house did not give birth to a son and a daughter before he died. The house had never been inhabited and had been abandoned for a long time.

She pulled the people she knew before to go home, and said as she walked, it is impossible that no one lives, my husband and I have lived here for so long, how can it be deserted.

The others couldn't resist her begging, and followed her to the house to have a look.

As soon as she pushed the door open, she froze, and a great horror took over her entire good-looking face.

What catches your eye is the scene of entanglement of spider silk, mildew and dust. When they got married, their wardrobes, dressing mirrors, cotton and silk quilts were gone. It was as if she had never been married to her husband and had never lived in this familiar place.

The person who had known her before looked at the woman in front of him with strange eyes, shook his head and left, leaving her standing alone at the door of the house. She and her husband have lived here for so many years, and they are as illusory as water vapor. And her husband had apparently never been to this world.

The woman soon went insane, and when she saw someone, she asked where her husband was, and followed behind the ass of someone and asked ten thousand times.

Thirty years later, my grandfather was born. Grandpa didn't understand the origin of this woman, and the old man in the village told him that it was a mad woman who had come to the village thirty years ago and asked about a person whom he had never met.

From the age of thirty to eighty, this woman has been pestering everyone in Thrush Village, and it is still the problem of being too old to be old. When my grandfather was twenty years old, he learned some magic tricks and suddenly understood the origin of this woman. But he didn't tell anyone else about it, except for his grandfather.

When my grandfather was young, my grandfather told him this incident as a story. But the woman was dead when Grandpa was born, so Grandpa didn't see that woman. And many years later, my grandfather was no longer alive, and my grandfather told me this story when I was a child.

Grandpa said that this is a very harsh kind of backlash. The general backlash is nausea, dizziness, and discomfort; Slightly more severe illness with fever and weakness of the limbs; More severely, accelerated aging and shorter lifespan. But the husband of the madwoman not only forfeited his future life, but also deprived him of all the lives he had already spent.

No wonder Daddy was so nervous when he decided to help Grandpa through this difficult time. Although the fortune teller helped the murderer, and the grandfather helped his son, they were both heavenly opportunities, and if they were leaked, they would be subject to a strong backlash.

So, when my father couldn't find a way to meditate and think about it, he suddenly flashed a workaround when he went to the toilet. He decided not to tell his grandfather while he was alive. He wrote down the solution on paper and stuffed it into the gap in the latrine, and after many years the manuscript would be found when his grandfather went to the toilet. But that's just a complete idea. But if you think about it, it still doesn't work. Wouldn't it be a pity if it was used up before that time?

Because after a person dies, everything he used when he was alive has to be burned on the day of burial, so Grandpa has thought of many other methods, except toilet paper.

So Grandpa started a huge calculation project, he had to calculate which gap in the latrine would be picked up and when, and which gap would not be touched. Such an extrapolation is unimaginably cumbersome and cumbersome. He wanted to make sure that he could escape from a thousand times of reaching out with a manuscript about the Yaksha ghost, and that it happened to be discovered by his grandfather at the most opportune time, not a few more days, let alone a few days later.

Since Grandpa and Grandma watched in surprise as Grandpa rushed out of the toilet excitedly, the abacus in the account room kept snapping day and night, and the lamp was not extinguished all night. Every night, when my grandfather went to sleep in my grandfather's account room, he saw a light the size of a soybean through the window paper, and he always had to think about it. No one knows what he is in it. Whenever it was time to eat, my grandmother would tell my grandfather to bring a bowl of food in, but my father would not let my grandfather enter the house, and told him to put the food at the door, so that he would naturally eat it when he was hungry.

After half a month, a stranger opened the door of the account room and stood at the door to bask in the sun for a long time. Grandpa and Grandma looked at the man at the door of the account room in amazement, who was unkempt, with a scruffy beard, pale skin as paper, and lips as red as black.

...