Blazing Yang Village. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

The village is in a place where the water is exhausted, but it is not a place where the mountains are poor and the water is evil.

Such a small village may be a paradise full of truth, goodness and beauty, but it may also hide unwitting evils.

Entering the village is a winding path, on one side is the terraced rice field with a great drop, on the other side is the hillside that climbs up, the hibiscus on the hillside is blooming to the top, the flowers are full of trees, splendid like brocade, like a dark purple falling star, both high and cold, and gaudy, the mountain road is dotted with rich and abnormal.

"The hibiscus here blooms so well, and this flower is also called the infinite flower, which is very vibrant."

Murong Cao suddenly sighed, and his tone was a little lonely.

"I remember that my master told an allusion, saying that there is a kind of flower that is known as the 'Four Evils', which is called the 'Four Evils', and seems to be the hibiscus flower, but the hibiscus flower is unyielding and has not been taken away by them."

Yang Muqing replied lightly, hiding a sigh in his heart.

"Bodhi Zi is so much younger than you, and it is strange to tell you a story."

Murong Cao was amused by him.

"It's an allusion, not a story."

Yang Muqing replied.

This narrow and steep eighteen-bend mountain road is naturally not able to build an incompatible asphalt road, whether digging mountains or filling fields, it is a thankless project, so only a thick layer of coarse gravel is paved, due to the large number of people walking, the road is very tight, and there is not much mud.

According to the village rules, if someone dies, the kitchen door is removed and placed on the path in front of the house, where an obituary written on poor white paper is dipped in rice paste, tied with long white linen, and flutters in the wind.

At this time, Wang Sanfang clearly saw that the oil-stained door panel, which symbolized sadness and ominousness, was standing at the door of the courtyard next to his old house with a big grin.

- It was his uncle's house who had the accident!

A thunderclap exploded in his mind, and his bulky body instantly became light because of the excitement, and he walked in three steps and two steps.

Murong Cao and Yang Muqing glanced at each other, sensed that something was wrong, and grabbed Li Hang, who followed him as quickly as possible, shook his head, and stood outside the door.

The courtyard door was pushed open by a pair of big hands as fat as steamed buns.

The already small courtyard has been blocked, and there are many people on the inside and outside of the three floors, all of which are faces that he is very familiar with, and when he sees him coming, he automatically makes a way, and the crowd stops whispering, and the originally indistinct sobbing sound becomes clear.

The mourning hall is being built, colorful paper flowers and newly folded pine branches are scattered all over the ground, and the dark red lacquered wooden coffin lies silently in the hall, just like the chubby and short-haired old woman in the photo on the desk, expressionless and lifeless.

"Aunt Yi......"

Wang Sanfang bowed his head in pain and wept loudly.

"Three fat people, didn't you say that you went outside to find a master? This person is dead, the daylilies are cold, why are you coming back? How not to die outside? ”

Although this sentence is said trickily, it cannot be offensive, because the person who said this is sitting in a wheelchair, holding a red lacquered coffin in one hand, and an old face that has been eroded by time to fragments shows undisguised sadness and misanthropy.

Not shedding tears does not mean not being sad, and when sadness is blocked in the heart, tears will not flow.

In his early years, he was bad at walking due to an accident, and his wife, who had taken care of him for decades, just left, he just wanted to follow, where would he take into account the feelings of his younger generations, and he was already well-educated without scolding and angering others.

"How did Aunt Yi die?"

Wang Sanfang retracted his initial gaffe, regained his calm look, and did not answer his uncle's words - he could not give a satisfactory answer.

"It's spontaneous combustion, just like my father, black flames come out of my body, and water can't extinguish it at all, and people won't burn to ashes, but they will only be charred all over, like a layer of soot, and then they will die so much that they can't die anymore."

The person who answered was a shriveled middle-aged woman, who was born a little bitter and thin, but the narrative of the events was clear and decent, specific and not excessive, and it could be seen that she was a clever person at heart.

Wang Sanfang was familiar with her, and when he saw that she was the answer, he knew that the situation at that time was almost the same, so he didn't pursue anything, bent down and kowtowed to the coffin three more times, and then didn't wait for anyone to help him, he stood up and carefully rubbed his somewhat sore legs.

"I brought people back, and I felt they would be able to help us solve the problems in the village."

His words were different from the previous low and hoarse, and he was extremely high-pitched, naturally wanting to let the people waiting outside the courtyard gate hear.

When Murong Cao and the others heard it, they naturally couldn't help but give Wang Sanfang this face, and it was embarrassing to wait outside the courtyard all the time, so they entered the courtyard even more embarrassed in front of everyone.

No, to be precise, it was Yang Muqing who really felt a little embarrassed.

Murong Cao and Li Hang obviously enjoyed this kind of attention.

The three of them walked to the front of the mourning hall, and they did not rush to make any high-minded speeches, but took turns to make incense.

Yang Muqing was the last to put on the incense, and when he stood up, he felt a beam of scrutiny.

So he looked over too.

On the other side of the red lacquer coffin is a futon, on which a fair-skinned and thin young monk sits, he is as quiet as a stone statue of Buddha, and the disturbances of the outside world do not seem to disturb him in the slightest, nor can he be moved by half a minute, one hand quickly twists the Buddha beads, the other hand knocks on the wooden fish, closing his eyes and reciting the silent scriptures, as if he is overtaking the dead.

The cold sound of the wooden fish was exactly what he heard on the road in front of the mountain, and naturally it should not have reached his ears through normal physical means.

The monk didn't seem to open his eyes, so where did the light of scrutiny he felt just now come from?

Murong Cao noticed that Yang Muqing's aura had changed, and looked around with some confusion, wanting to see what he was wary of.

Although it is very likely, Yang Muqing has seen something she can't see.

Then she also noticed the monk sitting on the futon, obviously it was not strange to see a monk in the mourning hall, but she was also the same as Yang Muqing, frowning.

Regarding the introduction of the two of them, there is naturally Li Hang to do it for him.

Whether his introduction was good or not, Murong Cao was noncommittal, but after watching his introduction, the villagers looked at them with a little more expectation and hope in their eyes, and Murong Cao felt a little satisfied.

That's enough, so many "masters" didn't leave the village alive, she can't expect more.

"Mu Sheng, it's useless for you to stay here, come back with me, Xiao Mao is sick again!"

A burly woman squeezed over, her hair covered her head like a chicken nest, and she didn't know how many days she hadn't washed it, and her face was a little hideous with anxiety, which made people daunting.

"Mrs. Village Chief, I asked Master Mu Sheng to come over and recite the scriptures to my hard-working wife, will you be too shameless to rob people this time?"

The old man in the wheelchair also has some seniority in the village, although he is disabled, he speaks with the same momentum.

"It's shameless for the dead to rob the living, right?"

The village chief's wife sneered, directly dragged the monk Musheng, and walked away, not at all taboo the people with angry faces.