An ordinary home in Hongliupo.

A group of people is holding a funeral.

The deceased was a young man of less than twenty years old, very young and good-looking, with white skin, a tall nose, thick eyebrows and big eyes.

Although his face was stained with a lot of blood and dirt ash, this could not hide the heroic spirit on his face in the slightest.

It's a pity that at this time, he has closed his eyes forever.

What didn't match his handsome face was his already broken flesh.

It can't even be called a body anymore, just a big mass of fleshy meat sauce under the neck.

A large amount of flesh and blood turned out hideously because of the knife wound, and the white jade-like bones pierced through the flesh like a steel knife.

After one arm was chopped off, it was cut into three pieces alive, and one by one was mixed in the flesh.

The other arm was nowhere to be seen, and the corpse collector did not see him at the scene.

The two legs could not be found at all, perhaps hidden in the minced meat, or perhaps not in them, and may even have been stolen and eaten by the homeless people wandering nearby.

The entire corpse was covered in black, congealed blood scabs and yellow sand and dust.

Maybe the person had been dead for too long when he brought it back, and the sand and soil on the corpse couldn't be cleaned up at all, and it couldn't be cleaned up at all.

Or rather, it's a miracle that the corpse collector can bring the body back.

Because the corpse was so fragmented, the corpse collector had no idea where to start, and finally used a shovel, along with the soil and bones, to shovel it out and wrap it in a broken straw mat that had been turned out of the garbage heap before reluctantly bringing it back.

This is also the corpse collector who has been in Hongliupo for many years and is deeply rooted, so he dares to help take the corpse back.

Otherwise, the young man's only end would be to rot quietly there, and then be slowly eaten by an unknown wild dog or vulture somewhere.

At that time, not only the body, but also the face of the young man will be eaten by a large number of mosquitoes and flies, and then die in a rancid smell and the disgusted voices of passers-by.

Absurd, but the most real west.

Here, I don't know how many bones have been buried under the yellow sand.

These people also have parents and relatives before their deaths, and may also have a happy family.

But they can only lie under the yellow sand at the moment.

In a sense, the family was lucky, at least the deceased's father could still hire a corpse collector.

can be buried in the ground, which is already a good ending for the civilians of the Western Regions.

At least most people don't have this treatment.

The young man's family background is okay, and his father not only found a corpse collector, but even found the only mortician in Hongliupo, wanting him to help sort out his son's body.

It's a pity that even the most experienced old mortuary can't reassemble the minced meat in front of him into a corpse.

The mortuary had offered to buy the bodies of a few other people and stitch their bodies onto the young man's body.

But he was rejected by the old man.

In this regard, the mortuary could only sigh helplessly.

The old man is seventy-one years old this year, and he has been operating in Hongliupo for many years, so he can be regarded as a rich party.

It's just that his status is still too far behind that of a cultivator.

Wealthy businessmen are already like this, not to mention civilians.

It's just that the current way of the world is just like this.

The only reason for the existence of civilians is to believe in the gods spread by cultivators.

To put it bluntly, it's just a tool.

But otherwise, these civilians would not have survived.

Before today, although the old man was already very old, he was still a crane-haired child.

But after receiving the bad news today, the old man seems to have reached the point of dying.

A little bit of white hair was brought up by the yellow phoenix in the desert, and the yellow and white were intertwined on the top of his old head.

The old man's mouth and nose were dry for a while, his nostrils kept oozing blood, and his lips were covered with blood.

He drank water one sip after another, not to be thirsty, not to relieve chapped lips.

He didn't know why he was drinking water, maybe he just wanted to drink it.

From the moment he received the bad news, the old man was dead.

His eyes were blank, staring blankly ahead.

All the statues of the gods in the house were smashed by him, and the gods and Buddhas who were once full of incense are now a piece of rubble in the dust.

Just like once, brilliant self.

The old man had little ability to move, and all he could do was sit in front of the coffin in a daze, asking questions to everyone attending the funeral over and over again.

"Didn't my son give them all the money in the store, why are they still killing?"

"The money is all given to them, why do you want to kill?"

No one was able to answer his question.

They didn't even dare to name those people.

Being able to attend the funeral was already a compromise of their arrogance.

The old man just sat there dumbfounded, asking over and over again.

Until their lives also came to an end.

It didn't take much time.

......

When the old man died, he and Long Aotian took away the souls of the old man and his son.

They have seen too many of this kind of things in the past two days.

Before coming to Hongliupo, they didn't feel anything.

The so-called number of people who died today and how many people died tomorrow are just a string of cold numbers in the final analysis.

Few people can empathize with a string of cold numbers, and even the Buddha can't.

But once he came to the field, he and Long Aotian could understand what the sense of despair that penetrated deep into the bone marrow was like.

The wife is scattered, and there is always a sharp guillotine hanging from the neck, and the most terrifying thing is that you never know when this guillotine will fall.

Life here is nothing more than a game for those in power.

A game, just a game.

If he was a cultivator living here, then his life would be very happy.

But if you're a civilian living here, be prepared to lose everything at any moment.

However, the cruelest part is that cultivators are entitled to choose where they live.

But civilians do not have this qualification.

Ordinary people simply have the ability to cross the vast yellow sand of 10,000 miles, and if they want to get out, they will only die after all.

Once practicing martial arts, Bai Shirong is not just an empty word here.

In such a place, it is not surprising that he can breed an abyss.

Even if there are only a dozen abysses, you have to praise your local counterparts for their quick work.

But the strange thing is, why did the abyss not appear until today?

At present, this reason may be inseparable from the many strengths entrenched in Hongliupo.