The next day, Zhang Zheng followed Mr. to the private school as usual, and when she got out of school, the husband only told her not to move around in the past few days, so she left the private school and went to the direction of the village chief's residence.

Zhang Zheng looked at the back of his husband in the distance, closed the courtyard door thoughtfully, turned around and entered the private school.

There are 139 bookshelves made of brown wood, and only three shelves are still free.

Zhang Zheng swept it away, and the spine of the book was written with numbers in cinnabar, from Qi to Jiu Wanqi, and none of the numbers were incomplete.

These are all the records and feelings left by the successive gentlemen of Zhidao Village from ancient times to the present, just looking at this book, the shelves are dust-free, clean and bright, but the simple and rich atmosphere is blowing in the face, wrapped in the dust of thousands of years ago, sprinkled with the present.

Zhang Zheng no longer hesitated, and went to verify when he was suspicious, his slender and white fingers rested on a scroll, and he pulled it out with a light force.

"Lu Shi Lu Erliang returned to leave a book......"

With respect, Zhang Zheng opened the first page, his eyes fell on the page with no traces of tearing, and his eyes sparkled.

The tremor became more and more intense as thousands of rows of small characters came into view, until the pen and ink stopped on the last page of the book, Zhang Zheng suddenly closed the scroll, and then closed his eyes, and the beautiful distant mountain eyebrows were entangled in pain.

"Mr. lives seven hundred, I stop at three hundred, ashamed, sad, ask my descendants how old is it? When I die at the age of 100, there should be so many sacrifices, and my heart hurts hard to understand when I think of this. ”

700 years of life...... Three hundred......

Zhang Zheng recalled that Mr. told her that every gentleman abdicated in a hundred years, and Mr. is not a cultivator, and there is no possibility of longevity far beyond mortals, why can the owner of this book live to be 300 years old? His husband can be as long as 700?

According to his words, it can be inferred that the longevity of the husband before him is even far more than seven hundred, and the longevity of each gentleman is decreasing, until he is only three hundred, and it will be less and less after that.

This would explain why Mr. said that he had only been in office for 100 years, but ......

What is it that allows them to live so long as mortals?

Mr. once said that every gentleman will receive a bequest left by the first gentleman after becoming an immortal after giving his surname, and his appearance will not be old.

So, is this reason for longevity also a gift from the first gentleman?

Zhang Zheng had never seen the ability of immortals, so he didn't know if extending the life of mortals could be the power of immortals.

Even if this is the case, Zhang Zheng's tightly knit brows have not eased in the slightest, and what does the "how many sacrificers" in the book mean? Why does it hurt the owner of the scroll?

The word sacrifice is often associated with sacrificing ancestors, and the sacrificial person here refers to the person who participated in the sacrifice or is it a sacrifice like "six animal sacrifices"?

Reason told Zhang Zheng that the answer was the latter, and it was precisely because of this that she was so shocked.

"Sir?"

The voice of the village chief suddenly sounded outside the door, with some doubts, Zhang Zheng's heart was like a drum, and he quickly put the scroll back in its place, and picked up the feather duster in the corner of the wall.

Calming down, Zhang Zheng calmly pushed open the door and said with a smile: "Mr. is out, the village chief has something to do with Mr." Do you want Zhang Zheng to help the village chief find Mr. Xun? ”

Glancing at the feather duster in her hand, the village chief put away his suspicious look and looked behind her quietly.

"It's okay, it's not a big deal, you clean up the house by yourself, I'll go back."

After just a few steps, the village chief turned his head and added with a smile: "Don't walk around the village in the past few days, the five guys in the village yesterday are not very peaceful, so you should pay attention to safety." ”

Zhang Zheng smiled and said, "I know the village chief, and so do you." ”

As soon as the village chief walked away, Zhang Zheng simply opened the door wide, turned around and held a feather duster to pretend to sweep the dust from the bookshelves and corners of the house.

The movements in her hands were neat, but Zhang Zheng looked a little absent-minded, she obviously watched her husband go in the direction of the village chief's residence, and there was only one village chief in that direction, why did the village chief come here to find Mr. again?

Mr. is not a person who likes to wander around, in addition to private schools and dormitories on weekdays, the most visited is the village chief's place and ancestral land, if Mr. didn't go to find the village chief, where did she go?

The door of the private school was empty, and the village chief was half-bent, his loose face was attached to the door, and he looked into the inner room through the crack in the door, and his cloudy eyes were full of worry.

In the middle of the night, he straightened up and quietly left the place, the setting sun dragging his slender and thin shadow, heavy and brisk step by step, half worried and half happy, full of shame.

Zhang Zheng, who had his back to the courtyard door, made a movement in his hand, put the feather duster aside, and closed the door of the inner room again.

In the middle of the night, the jackdaw landed on the half-withered branches in late autumn, and the branches were dyed with the ink color of the night, and the black crows cried fiercely.

"Da-"

The last volume was placed back on the shelf intact, but the slender fingers lingered on the cinnabar script on the spine.

Zhang Zheng's intricately illegible gaze lingered on the spine of the book, with the large vermilion character - "Qi".

This is the smallest number on the shelf, and this seventh gentleman has spent a full 3,000 years in this village of Zhidao, and so has the gentlemen who came after him.

The first gentleman to experience a decline in his life was the 973rd gentleman, whose life ended at 2,900 years, and the life expectancy of each gentleman after that decreased.

The word "sacrifice" has appeared in the book of the seventh gentleman, and it is often mentioned in the book of the seventh gentleman, although it is not deeply stated, but it is not difficult to guess between the lines that the word "sacrifice" is indeed the meaning of "sacrifice".

The fingers unconsciously pressed the knuckles, and Zhang Zheng's eyes were dark and deep in the dim candle flame, precipitating the secluded pool in the cold and deep mountains.

At the beginning, he hesitated, but after several mental struggles, he finally said the sentence "The student is willing to accept the responsibility of Mr." At this moment, it looks like a big joke.

The fire of the deceitful anger burned so vigorously that it almost burned through her heart, and the mentor she respected and loved had always been intent on making her a sacrifice!

After taking the surname, she will become a real sacrifice, a lamb to the slaughter, with a butcher's knife hanging over her head, and when the time comes, the butcher's knife will fall on her neck.

Take people as sacrifices in exchange for the tranquility of the village.

Furious, Zhang Zheng pushed open the door more than once, rushed to the husband, and sharply reprimanded her for what she thought, or no longer scruples, and tore apart the peace of this blood-paved village.

Ke Hand put on the door several times, but was torn off by Zhang Zheng, and he couldn't do this. Even if it's just to avoid suspicion, you can't act so recklessly.

And......

Everything is still strange......

Zhang Zheng forced himself to sit down on the spot, sat cross-legged, and calmed down to concentrate on reciting the meditation formula.

There are few stars in the night, crossing the sky, and the rooster cries to call the newborn red sun, red and clear, hanging in the sky.

Mr. was the first to step into the private school, and his plain black clothes and pants were stained with morning dew, and the soft skin and flesh were particularly cool.

Standing in the courtyard with a slender and upright figure, his lips were hooked upwards like Zhu Dan, his eyes were smiling, and he fell on the locked door of the inner room, as if through the wall bricks and wood, on the thin figure sitting cross-legged on the ground.

The sound of reading aloud slowly echoed in the private school, and the immature children's voices were clear and bright, with pure hope to penetrate the night and face the sky.