Ten years later......

Zhang Yao stepped on the withered yellow leaves on the side of the street, walked on the still prosperous street, looked at the shops on both sides of the road, and couldn't help but feel a lot of emotion, some sadness, some nostalgia, and some doubts.

"It seems that the so-called masters of the world can also deceive people, obviously nothing happened. Zhang Yao muttered to himself, as if he was glad and sighed.

As Ouyang Qingfeng said, this city should no longer exist, but now it is the same as yesterday, and it is even more prosperous, and he has finally picked up a life, he should be happy, but it's a pity, that guy ......

Zhang Yao also thought like this, and was so confused, he didn't know whether to be happy or sad, so he turned into the street next to the county hospital and walked into a shroud shop.

The shopkeeper is a middle-aged man, and it is very strange to look at this little girl who walks into the store, he has been running a funeral goods business for so many years, and it is the first time he has seen such a young and beautiful girl walking into this kind of small shop alone, without mourning.

"Little girl, you're in the wrong store, it's not what you need to sell here. The middle-aged man was really surprised when he looked at Zhang Yao looking around the store, but he still reminded him like this.

"Boss, come with a knife of paper money and a bouquet of white roses. ”

The middle-aged man was stunned for a moment when he heard this, and he didn't expect that this little girl who seemed to be unworldly was really here to buy funeral things, and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry. "Girl, please mourn, forgive me for taking the liberty of sending flowers, after all, it is still a good ......white chrysanthemum."

"You've always wanted to give me a bouquet of roses, and now it's time for me to give you a bouquet......" muttered to himself like a mosquito, and before he knew it, his head drooped lower and lower, and his eyes were already moist.

"A bouquet of white roses. Zhang Yao suddenly raised his head and raised his voice and repeated, more determined.

The middle-aged shopkeeper sighed, shook his head, didn't say anything, turned around and walked to the window, pulled out a bouquet of white roses with water droplets from the vase, and handed it to Zhang Yao.

"A few days ago, I was mixed with some roses in the lily, and there were only four of them, and they couldn't be sold anyway, so they were given to you for paper money. ”

Zhang Yao thanked the boss, then paid and left.

She walked out of the alley, looking at the paper money in the handbag and was a little dazed, only then did she remember that she didn't know where to see him, and after that day and night, she persuaded her family to leave Cangbei as quickly as possible, and fled almost non-stop. Later, I never inquired about where Ye Ling was buried. At this time, I had to go to Guanhai Temple first.

It is still paved with blue bricks, but some mottled stone steps have been repaired, the vermilion stone wall no longer exists, and the old things are not, the Guanhai Temple is no longer there, replaced by a newly decorated funeral home, ten years of time, can change too much.

Looking at the black door wall, Zhang Yao felt a sense of disgust for no reason, so he didn't enter, but turned around and came to the edge of the cliff.

Ten years have changed so much that even the edges of the cliffs have been fitted with new stainless steel fences.

Zhang Yao leaned on the fence and looked at the sky and sighed, then lit the paper bag containing the paper money and threw it out, watching a lonely fire slowly fall into the sea, and it took a long time before it gradually extinguished. I thought of that evening again, the fire was like the sword in Ye Ling's chest that day, burning so stubbornly and lonely. Zhang Yao thought, probably like Ye Lingna's desperate and desperate heart.

"It's really bad...... Zhang Yao thought of the boy again, the boy who was not lively and a little shy, but dared to pull the whole city to bury him in order to give someone a chance to survive.

Zhang Yao took out his mobile phone, sent a text message to refuse the male colleague's dinner invitation, and then threw the number of Ye Ling ten years ago on his mobile phone into the sea with the bouquet of white roses, and turned to leave.

Before leaving, she turned around one last time and whispered to the sky, "I don't know, are you okay......"

But she didn't see that the mobile phone, which had been turned off in the water, lit up again on the seabed, and a text message without the sender entered, only three words "He's okay......

......

......

An eerie land, cracked in pieces of land glowing with eerie dark reds and eerie purples. Pale or pitch-black flames gliding against the ground are not the kind of sight that can be found in this world.

So, this is the ghost house.

On the road in front of the Ghost Mansion, a group of ghost pawns walked slowly forward, each with a chain behind them, and at the other end of the chain was a blurred phantom.

The leader was a man in white clothes, white hair, and a white hat, but he dragged a black belt in his hand. There was no trace of restraint on the "thing" he was dragging behind him, because the shadow was also as black as ink.

"Tell me about you! Calculate for yourself how many laws and regulations you have violated! Appear in front of mortals without permission, secretly give dreams to others, secretly divulge your life for days, interfere in human affairs! enough to throw you into Lethe River three times!" The man in white was expressionless but angry all the way, roaring or mocking, talking about these and that, what should and should not be, precepts or precepts. And the black shadow remained unconscious, bowed its head, and took steps.

It was indeed with his head down, although he had no facial features, not even the original terrifying crack was gone, but he still gave the impression of hanging his head, but he was not depressed.

Finally, in the chatter of complaints, accusations, and abuse, a group of ghosts arrived at the gate of the ghost mansion, ending the absurd one-man show along the way.

The ghost guards at the gate stopped them. And the man in white also quieted down, put on a cold look, and calmly showed the pass arrow and related authorization copy.

"Bai Liuren, you're back!Why are there only so many remnant souls?Isn't the matter in Cangbei over this year?" a ghost pawn with a halberd saluted the man in white.

Probably guarding the ghost world is a very boring thing, so the ghost pawns seem to be a little chattering, "Why did you bring back the Black Thirteen Lords, is the soul collector in Cangbei going to be replaced?"

The man in white frowned unhappily, but he still didn't refute everyone's face: "Black Thirteen was sent back to Lechuan to return to the furnace, as for Cangbei...... There will be no need for additional soul collectors in the future. ”

After the man in white finished speaking, he looked back at the shadow known as the Black Thirteen, and was silent for a long time: "I have already sent out the message you gave for you, so go on the road with peace of mind." ”

When Black Thirteen heard this, he suddenly raised his head, and then laughed. Heartily laughed.

The black shadow has no facial features, and of course it has no mouth, and it smiles without a mouth, which is from the bottom of his heart.

The voice of the heart, the most emotional. So even though Black Thirteen had no expression, everyone around him knew that there was no remorse in his laughter at this time, only emotion, pride, and relief.

I am emotionally moved by the century-old story, proud of breaking this situation, and relieved by not having to watch joys and sorrows.

"Maybe, you're right....." Where no one saw it, the corners of the man in white pulled up a hint of self-deprecation.

......

......

A faint sigh echoed in a mountain forest.

A deserted hillside woodland, surrounded by boundless woods, like burning woods. The bright maple leaves swaying in the wind, accompanied by the poignant cicadas, like the dancers on the dance floor who do the last song, enthusiastic and charming, but the golden ribbons on the red dance skirts are so noble.

It's still the same untouched maple forest, but it's completely different. Within a day, the maple leaves quickly turn yellow, then turn bright red like blood and like fire.

Like the blood that flowed from his heart that evening, like the fire that flew on his sword.

Since then, the seasons have continued as usual.

The small courtyard of the fence is also different, the hard and straight birch hedge stake is still stubbornly standing there, but it has long lost that sharpness, and the green vines on the fence have also lost that tenacity, and it looks a little aggrieved under the cold autumn wind that comes overnight, and it is soft and lying on the hedge.

The tea trees in the courtyard are still the same, and the huts in the courtyard don't look like they have changed. It's still the same yard, the same house, but it's not the same person anymore.

There's a terrible old man with a white beard missing.

The old man is dead. On that day ten years ago, when he was most excited and proud, he was hit by the most vulnerable place by the soldier's mind, along with the killing intent from the underworld, and then ended his legendary life.

Ouyang Ruihai couldn't believe that his descendants would use such a ruthless and decisive way to deal with him, and pull him to hell with him with the end of his soul. I can't imagine that the ghost envoy who has never been involved in the world will interfere in the affairs of the world.

So his excitement came to an abrupt end, and the black canopy receded like a tide, pouring all over his body. In the end, he burned out his three souls and seven souls, and that pathetic body.

But the old man's death did not make the hut ruined, it was as clean as before, and there was even a white porcelain teacup steaming on the table.

The fresh and ethereal fragrance of tea makes the room have a kind of poetic feeling, so the person in front of the window took advantage of this dusty artistic conception to splash ink.

When the heat on the teacup dissipated, the man put down his pen and looked out the window. The figure was vaguely a little empty, and it was like a cloud-like silk, connected to the ancient sword on the wall.

"I really didn't expect that after the military liberation, I would still be able to send my soul to things, and now only two of us are left with lonely souls and wild ghosts here, which can be regarded as retribution. Ouyang Qingfeng picked up the teacup and sighed as he poured the cooled tea out of the window.

He only has one soul left, and he is parasitic to that Han Bafang, so naturally he can't taste tea anymore, so he can only enjoy this artistic conception and chat for comfort.

And there seemed to be a glittering light on the sword, as if he was expressing disdain for Ouyang Qingfeng's words.

"You can be content, Ye Ling, it should be our honor to be able to attach our soul to the Mysterious Sword. The still-intact soul at the table sighed, but no voice answered him.

Ye Ling was not a cultivator before his death, and now it is not easy to retain a little consciousness, and he can't do without that ancient sword at all.

Outside the window, a gust of autumn wind blew through the window lattice, blowing open an old book on the bookcase.

"Qingfeng is illiterate, why do you flip through books. I really shouldn't have read that book in the first place, and then stupidly ran out to kill the demons. As a result, I don't know how long I will stay here......"

Far away in the foothills of the Anwan Mountains, an equally neat thatched hut with a book spread out on the table.

"Brother Yu Ruihai, cultivating the sword into the devil, Yu took the master of the sunset to fight Ruihai in Cangbei, sealed it, and every four years to draw the essence of ten people and three people, and built a seal of the 'thirteen-fold building', which belongs to the master of the sunset. I know that I am guilty of sins, and I am ashamed of all sentient beings, but my life is short, and I can't do anything. If he is a disciple of Ouyang who has achieved cultivation in the future, he must go to Cangbei and kill the demons and evil spirits to solve this formation. ”

A damp mountain wind blew, and the book was rudely closed by the wind, and the book's signature was Ouyang Ruifeng.

July 24, 2015

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