I immediately got goosebumps on my back.

How could there be a person hidden in this small ear room?

This man can still see us through the door.

Then he can't be a human, people can't see through, ghosts can.

I glanced and looked out the window.

The moonlight of the hairy moon is still hazy.

It seems that tonight's moon value is broken, the Bodhisattva closes his eyes, even if he hides in the mountain temple, he will inevitably hit the ghost.

Although I was afraid, I gently pushed away the silly woman in my arms, got up and picked up the kerosene lamp, and lit it with oil.

At this time, Rhubarb also woke up.

Its body was also a spirit, and then it quickly got up, shook the yellow hair on its body, and barked a few times at the door of the ear chamber.

I'm sure there's something in this chamber.

I picked up my hunting knife in one hand and the oil lamp in the other, and walked towards the ear chamber.

But as soon as I took half a step, the stupid woman screamed, and the rhubarb began to bark one after another.

At the same time, through the crack in the door of the chamber, a dark wind blew towards us.

My heart is in my throat, I don't need to be stupid to compare with me, I also know that the things in this ear room have come out!

That stupid woman can see it, and rhubarb can see it, but I can't see it.

Probably true, as the rumors say, only with a pure heart can you open your eyes and see ghosts.

But I don't have time to think so much right now, the wind has already blown around me!

It was windy, and although it was a little cold, it didn't make me feel uncomfortable.

On the contrary, it is a little reassuring and a little kind.

I froze, feeling the cold wind gently brushing my cheeks, very gently.

Rhubarb stopped barking, crouched there, and wagged his tail at the air in front of me.

The silly woman looked at me, then at the air in front of me, and stroked my cheek.

At this time, I felt the wind blowing on the top of my head again, and then the wind disappeared.

The stupid woman also compared with me, saying that the person was gone.

I was so confused that I walked to the door of the chamber.

I slashed the lock with my hunting knife, then pushed the door and lit it with a kerosene lamp.

The small transept was unobstructed, and at the end of the room lay a shiny mahogany coffin, in front of which was an offering table, and nothing else.

I walked over and thought to myself who the person in the coffin would be.

At this moment, my gaze fell on the center of the offering table, where the deceased's spiritual seat was placed.

In front of the spiritual seat, there were no extra offerings, only a handful of camellias.

The camellia was not watered, but it did not wither at all, and it should have been picked and put on within a week.

I put the kerosene lamp closer to see the words engraved on the spiritual table.

"The spiritual seat of the deceased wife Zhang Liu."

Suddenly, my nose was sore, and then I realized what was going on.

No wonder the uncle in this room never lets anyone in.

This room is a mourning hall set up by an infatuated uncle, for my poor aunt who has nowhere to be buried.

I immediately knelt down and kowtowed three times to the coffin.

"Auntie, I'm sorry to disturb you, I let this stupid woman hide here for a while, you can take care of her, she is a hard worker like you."

Then I got up and comforted the silly woman, telling her not to be afraid, my aunt was the kindest person in the village during her lifetime, and even if she became a ghost after death, she was still a good ghost.

Back in the apse, the silly woman and I continued to lie down and sleep, but I couldn't sleep at all.

I haven't met my mother in person, but I've heard my parents say that she is the best person they've ever met.

But good people always don't live long, and they still live hard.

The eldest mother is an orphan girl, the first half of her life was lonely, displaced, came to our village in five or nine years, married the uncle, the life was just steady, and caught up with the three-year famine.

At that time, the eldest mother gave food to the rest of the family, gnawing the bark of the tree herself, and at the same time forced herself to work in the production team to earn work in exchange for food.

In those three years, many people starved to death in the village, and only our old Zhang family, relying on the eldest mother, the whole family, all carried it.

But after surviving the famine, just thinking that she could live a good life, the eldest mother was inexplicably infected with malaria, and she lost her life without even leaving the child.

Because he died of infectious diseases, and he was not a local, after the death of the eldest mother, he couldn't even go to the ground for peace.

Not to mention happiness in a lifetime, I have never even experienced peace, even after death.

I sighed, thinking that if my aunt hadn't been sick and had lived to this day, my uncle wouldn't be the weird man he is now.

But when I thought of my uncle, my brows furrowed even tighter.

The eldest lady is a hard life.

That uncle is alone.

Think about it carefully, following the eldest mother, the closest relatives around the uncle, one by one, died one after another.

My grandfather and grandmother died in 64, when they were in their 40s and in the prime of life.

My uncle, when he was sixteen years old, went up the mountain to collect medicine, fell off a cliff and died.

If you have to count it, even my sister, who has always been close to my uncle, died of cancer, and she can rely on my uncle's head.

Now around my uncle, the only people who have not been killed by him are me and my parents.

I don't know the uncle's birthday, if I know, I will use the astrological technique to push it, it must be a "heavenly solitary star" numerology.

What I can't figure out is that the "Heavenly Evil Lone Star" should have started to work since birth, but the uncle only started this sign when he was in his twenties.

This situation, if you have to use astrology to explain it, there is only one possibility.

Uncle is a lonely fate that has been reversed the day after tomorrow.

At the juncture of those three years of famine, he experienced something that could change his life, and provoked something terrible, and everything became what it is now.

At this time, I remembered another incident from my childhood.

I can't remember how old I was, but a fortune teller from out of town came to our village.

The fortune teller is very powerful, one look at the face, two look at the palm prints, three look at the teeth, after reading the iron mouth is straight off, one to say one accurate.

He didn't take any money, saying that fortune-telling was just to hone his skills, so the whole village let him see it.

Except for the uncle.

At that time, the fortune teller's face changed as soon as he saw the uncle.

"I don't have the ability to do your life." The fortune teller said.

Uncle frowned and said, "Why? My life is too bad? ”

The fortune teller shook his head: "It's not that your life is powerful, it's that the things you carry on your back are too powerful." ”

When the uncle heard the fortune teller's words, he was stunned for a moment, and then an extremely sad smile appeared on his face.

That smile, I still remember.

I clutched the shotgun in my arms, breathing heavily.

I had to find Uncle and ask him what was going on.

When I woke up the next day, I packed my things and stopped as soon as I walked out of the door of the apse.

On the ground, there are two drawings made of lime slag.

I turned and went back to the apse, shook the silly woman awake, and asked her what was the matter.

The stupid woman was also at a loss, indicating that she didn't do it.

I scratched my scalp and crouched down to look at the two paintings closely.

The brush is extremely simple, but the content of the painting is extremely strange.

In the first painting, two people stand one after the other, the person in front has his back to the person in the back, and the eyes of the person in the back pull a dotted line pointing to the back of the person in front.

In the second painting, the person in front is still standing there, but the person in the back is lying down, and he is still shooting two "×" at the place of his eyes.

Both figures are very crudely drawn, with only a few brushstrokes.

But I can still roughly understand the meaning of these two paintings.

The man in the back, seeing the back of the person in front, died? Roughly that's what it means?

But who painted these two paintings?

I'm sure no one else came in the temple last night.

I pondered for a while and had a guess.

Was it drawn by the ghost of the eldest lady?

There is indeed this possibility, the women of their generation basically don't know a word, and if the lady wants to tell me any information, she can only use this way of drawing.

At this time, the stupid woman next to me screamed.

She held out her finger and pointed to the dead man on the painting.

She pointed at it, and I realized the details I hadn't seen before.

The dead man had a horn-like thing around his waist and his feet were hooked.

I looked down at the horn powder cartridge around my waist and the pointed-toe cowhide boots on my feet.

My head thudded.

Draw this dead man, am I?

What about these two paintings......

That's what my aunt told me, my death.