The poor ghost Mao Changsheng was slapped by the cold, and his hair was so frightened that his hair was cold, and his hair was about to stand upside down.

He was sure in an instant that it was not the scissors ghost Mei Yixiang who slapped this palm.

If there are women in the yang world who are not jealous, it is said that sows will also go up to the trees one after another, but there are female ghosts in the shadows who are unprecedentedly jealous.

What does it mean to not be jealous? It means that when you look at other women or ghosts, you won't get angry, and you won't suddenly have long ears, or a certain muscle will become a lump, and you won't suffer a lot from your flesh.

In the mind of the poor ghost Mao Changsheng, the scissors ghost Mei Yixiang is such a female ghost.

The chastity and calmness of the scissor ghost do not come from indifference and despair, not from the hypocrisy of pretending to be generous, but from self-confidence and detachment.

The scissors ghost Mei Yixiang is not very old, but the experience she has experienced has made her see through the hustle and bustle, and when she sees other women or female ghosts jealous and jealous, she will only smile lightly with pity.

Those who come will come after all, those who will go will go after all, those who can stay will not leave, and those who cannot keep will be forced in vain.

The world is unpredictable, and the unpredictable has its own laws, so why not treat it calmly?

The poor ghost thought that he knew a lot about the scissors ghost, so when he was slapped on the shoulder and went limp, he pretended to be seriously injured, took the opportunity to touch two firecrackers in his hand, touched the aisle floor with his fist, slid out two feet away like a loach, and turned his body and face like an acrobatic man.

The sudden attack was really not a scissor ghost, but a strange ghost who couldn't be weirder anymore-

The ghost who faced the poor dead ghost, wearing black leather shoes, black leather pants, black leather clothes, and black leather gloves on his hands, was tall and burly, and weighed it with a gloomy scale, even if he went out fur, the net weight was not less than five hundred catties.

Weight isn't a big deal, and after the poor ghost met the swelling ghost, all the ghosts turned into gadgets.

What surprised the poor ghost was not the leather coat of the ghost in front of him, not the weight of the ghost in front of him, but—

The ghost in front of me has no head.

It's not surprising that there are no heads, but it's strange that between the shoulders without heads, there is a place the size of a small bowl, and there is a hole the size of a teacup in the middle, which spews out colorful blood like a fountain, no, it is fireworks that make the whole aisle gorgeous.

It's a headless ghost.

This is like a not so distant era, when the little Japanese devil slaughtered Chinese in Nanjing, and just cut off the head of a civilian with a sword.

Of course, the heads and necks of civilians are spewing out real blood, not illusory fireworks.

"What are you doing here, headless ugly ghost?" cried out the poor ghost, "to do things with a sense of consequences. Angered me, aren't you afraid of embarrassing consequences?"

"Am I ugly? When you get your head twisted off, you think it's cool to have no head. "The headless ghost can actually speak, and there is a bit of humor.

Still, the sound came from the headless ghost's belly—presumably from the navel—and the world was so big.

As he spoke, the fireworks on the headless ghost's neck dimmed, and he opened his gibbon-like arms and walked quickly towards the poor ghost.

"You pushed down Lao Tzu, and you still want to twist Lao Tzu's head? Do you know how to respect the old and love the young?" The poor dead ghost's heart had calmed down, and he pretended to be afraid and covered his face.

The long arm of the headless ghost, accompanied by the sound of maniacal laughter coming from the navel, viciously grabbed the poor ghost.

In the blink of an eye, the firecracker on the poor ghost's right hand was thrown into the belly of the headless ghost, and his body slid down from the headless ghost's crotch and floated upward, and the firecracker in his left hand was also thrown into the headless ghost's neck.

This series of actions, done in one go, is crisp and neat, and the poor ghost can't help but want to bow to himself and express his admiration when he thinks back many years later.

Of course, he said that it was not the result of deliberate training, but the power of love.

Of course, at the moment when the poor ghost was stunned, that is, in the blink of an eye, the firecracker in front of the headless ghost's chest and abdomen exploded, and the firecracker on his neck also exploded.

The leather coat, which looked genuine, instantly became full of holes.

Those fireworks that looked so brilliant were suddenly extinguished.

With a beastly wail, the headless ghost vanished without a trace.

"Sneak attack on your Grandpa Mao, at your own risk. The poor ghost Mao Changsheng smiled leisurely, touched his chin, and stroked it, as if he was treating a long beard, "Headless and brainless, he is still clever to make trouble, he is too ignorant!"