During the Qianlong period, outside the Dongzhi Gate of the capital, the ghost cried the grave

It was the middle of the night, the wind was gloomy, and the shadows were abundant.

There are several dilapidated and half-collapsed tombstones on the hillside, and it is unclear who was buried in what year and month. I only heard the cold wind pouring in, and the wind howled like a ghost crying wolf.

This is also the origin of the name of the Devil's Crying Grave.

This place is where the ownerless grave bag stands indiscriminately, the strange stone dwarf forest, an indescribable strange atmosphere lingers in the meantime, and a thatched hut is seen in the distance, with a broken door face, standing in the middle of the mass grave.

There was only one lamp in the hut, a few broken tables and chairs, and the oil lamp was half dry.

Leaning on the edge of the bed, there was an old man half-lying, with a sheep's beard and eyebrows, and his skin was loose and his flesh was falling.

It can be seen that this person is depressed, as if he is a grave keeper living alone.

But there is a group of paper people sitting around this old man!

The candlelight was hazy and indistinct, and the group of paper figures were vivid, and there was no god between the eyebrows and eyes.

The blood-red paper mouth was coated with cinnabar, and black moles were dotted, and the heads of those paper figures seemed to be covered with real human hair, which made people look cold.

The old man counted the paper figures in front of him, no more, no less, exactly eighteen.

Delicate paper, around the bed, all eyes are blank, hair dancing and scattered, pale faces.

All the paper figures were facing the bedside, staring at themselves with blank eyes, as if they had something to say.

Every time the night wind comes in through the wall, the paper figures involved sway for a while, as terrible as a living person.

"It's all here..."

The old man staggered, his voice weak. His face was sallow, and he felt desolate against such a cold night, and it seemed that he was about to die soon.

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw that group of paper people nodded!

For such a strange moment, although the light is faint and not real, this group of paper figures clearly seem to be nodding their heads against the strange wind, how can people not be afraid?!

The old man sighed and continued:

"I'm at the end of the day, I've avoided everything I should have dodged, and now this time I can't avoid it at all, let's take care of the aftermath in the next few days."

There was no word in the house, the flickering candlelight became more and more dim, and there was an inexplicable ticking and muffling sound outside the house, which was inopportune and strange.

And the group of paper figures still looked at the old man and did not say anything.

The old man sighed again:

"I expected it a long time ago, it seems that you will not let me go so easily, and the last teacher will not be able to recover, and I am also unwilling. That's it, force it out before you die, and find an afterlife to take care of you. ”

After speaking, the old man struggled to get up, pinched it with both hands, and quickly calculated...

"There is no wind in the wilderness, there is no self in heaven, there is no humanity, there is no door in the underworld..."

The hoarse voice was as choked as if he had swallowed a date, but as the old man closed his eyes and thought, the candlelight in the room flickered and went out!

For a while, the hut was pitch black, and I couldn't see my fingers.

Burst!

The candlelight was on again! However, it was a strange green light, burning the only remaining living people in the house, which was suffocating, and the candlelight and shadow blanched on the faces of the paper figures, which was even more evil.

Somehow, that group of paper figures looked like they were smiling! The scarlet mouth seemed to rise a little, the candlelight was unstable and flickering, and something appeared in the old man's hand between the words:

A shiny bone?

I don't know what kind of remains are shedding, the whole body is shiny, sharpened into a knife, and the bone knife handle is inlaid with a red stone, deep and hidden chaos.

A bundle of hairs wrapped around the ashes, although this bone knife looked exquisite and ingenious, there was a bloody killing aura swept out from the blade.

The old man slashed his palm with a knife, and the blade had already sunk into the cold before it touched his skin.

A line of blood flowed down the wound, and the old man hurriedly took out a stack of yellow paper and quickly folded out a small figure.

The palms of the hands were withered, the blood was flowing like an infusion, and the old man was sweating on the top of his head.

After the witch-like ritual was completed, the old man took a rag to bandage the wound, and with a solemn expression, he sent the paper figure to the green candlelight and lit it:

The little paper figure had a hideous face, burned with blood, and was picked up by the flames, and caught up on the ground, crackling for a while, twisting and struggling.

After a while, the paper figure turned to ashes.

The old man nodded, as if he had seen something. Stretched out his hand and carefully wiped the paper ash into his palm, bowed his head and silently recited a few words, and a strange wind suddenly rose again.

Woo····

The paper ash in the palm of the hand fell with the wind, and the green candle went out again, and was reborn again, returning to orange light.

The old man did not know what to meditate on, and seemed to be very weak, and closed his eyes again in contemplation.

"Whoever doesn't want to end this case will be considered his apprenticeship."

A group of paper figures were still watching the old man, empty and speechless, until the candlelight came back to life at this time, and they could see it really:

This old man's legs were made of paper! And the eighteen paper people in the room were four less when the candlelight went out!

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