Shabai Town, the autumn wind rises, and the heavens are cold. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

The remnant sun sets in the west, lengthening the shadows of people and things, blurring the boundaries between heaven and earth, and making the night darker and deeper.

All kinds of demons and monsters hid behind the night, with whimpering and strange screams, with a soaring murderous aura, they all gathered towards Shabai Town.

Since the death of the town keeper ten years ago, Shabai Town has been like a piece of delicious fat discarded in the barren land, welcoming packs of hungry tigers and hungry wolves every night.

Therefore, before the moon climbs into the sky, every family turns off their lights early and goes to sleep.

Only Donglipo, which is located on the outskirts of Shabai Town, no demon dares to stay.

The slope of Dongli is not high, and there is a lonely pear tree on the top of the slope that does not lose leaves in winter and does not bear fruit in summer. At night, the pear tree exudes a rich fragrance, attracting a large number of fireflies to entangle in the branches and leaves, and from a distance, it looks like a blooming firework, which is extremely beautiful.

In the past ten years, there has often been a figure under the tree that ordinary people can't see, he has never moved half a step, and every day he just silently looks at the town's passers-by and the changes in the wind and clouds.

He is not a demon or a ghost, but Murong Bai, a demon who has been dead for a long time, just because he died with thousands of unwillingness and unwillingness to the destiny of heaven, so he stood in the place of death day after day and became a fairy who bound the ground.

Today, it is dusk again, and the sunset is as crimson as blood.

Murong Bai sat in the old place as always, closing his eyes and recuperating.

The small roads around are constantly passing by the townspeople, who have to rush back to their homes in the town before dark.

The sound of hurried footsteps faded into thinning as the moon rose, and soon there was silence.

At about a moment, there were noisy and hurried human voices on the mountain road, and Murong Bai stood up straight and followed the voice, and the leaves of the pear tree swayed slightly.

I saw three strangers running wildly with their bags on their backs, followed by a sturdy orangutan-headed spirit not far behind them.

Among them, the slowest middle-aged man, one accidentally stumbled to the ground, and before he could get up, he was bitten and devoured by the scarlet head, blood splattered, and screams resounded through the valley.

The other two didn't dare to stay, so they could only take advantage of the time when their companions were eaten and run as fast as they could.

Ghosts eat people and eat souls. Demons eat people and eat flesh and bones.

Eat dry and wipe clean, their bellies are still empty, and the monsters who have become demons in the six reincarnations will never know what it means to be full.

Murong Bai stretched out his palms, his qi condensed, and vigorously swung a whirlwind towards the scarlet head spirit, and dozens of pear tree leaves were like flying meteor arrows, accurately embedded in the head of the scarlet head spirit.

The Scarlet Heads vanished silently.

The figure of the stranger also left Shabai Town after crossing two hills.

The world returned to its original tranquility, and no one knew what had happened.

Murong Bai returned to the tree, meditated quietly, and from a distance, only a lush pear tree stood lonely on the top of the hill.