Chapter 1

"The Judge" by Musuri

copywriting

The bells and whistles of "cai jī" x the poor ratio who lives in a mansion

There was once a patriarch in the line of judges, but now no one dares to mention him because of his famous reputation.

Only Wen Shi was still abiding by the rules, and worshipped the portrait of the patriarch with green faces, fangs, and flowers and willows every day. As a result, he came to worship a sick tenant.

The tenant stood in front of the portrait and asked: Who painted this?

Smell: me.

...

Don't ask, ask is moved.

Content tags: supernatural

Search keywords: Protagonist: When I smell it, the dust does not reach (Thank you) ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

One sentence introduction: Be a person

mortal deceased

Chapter 1 Returning

Brother Wen told me that he was an immortal person. Every time I close my eyes, after a few years, I will climb out of the Wuxiangmen one day.

In 1921 Qingming, in Tianjin Wei, I remember it rained a lot. He came out of Wuxiangmen for the 11th time, covered in blood. I rushed to pick him up and couldn't help but ask a question.

I said, why bother to come, go all the way, and always have to come back alive, is there anyone who can't let go?

He was not easy to get along with as rumored, he ignored me, turned around and left. After a long while, he turned around and asked if I had anything to eat?

Later, I read some old books and found out that the judges are in the same vein, full of clarity and impartiality, and what they cultivate is no hanging, no hindrance and no obstruction. The question I asked that day was a daydream, and I read a lot of words.

This year, Gu Yu was given to him by me personally. Two pots of paper were burned, and seven incense sticks were lit. His appearance did not change, just the same as when I picked him up.

Houshan Baimei has opened three branches, I don't know how many years he will be able to sleep well this time.

April 25, 1995, it rained heavily

Shen Bridge in Xi'an

***

"Twenty-five years."

"What?" The driver raised his voice subconsciously.

This year's Qingming Festival, Ningzhou is also pouring rain. When the taxi came out of Jiangjun Mountain, it was already dark, and for the nth time, Jiāotong broadcasted to remind "slippery in rainy days, pay attention to the road ahead", but the driver couldn't help but look at the people in the back seat.

He picked up two strange guests, one old and one young.

The little boy was very thin, he was only six or seven years old, but he was wearing a T-shirt that was too wide. He seemed to have fallen and was wet from head to toe, half rain and half mud. Before getting into the car, the driver pulled out a large towel for him, but he didn't say thank you.

To be precise, he didn't say a word until he suddenly said a word. The voice was low and cold, without any milkiness, it really didn't look like a child.

The driver suspected that he was listening wrong, and couldn't help but ask again: "Little boy, are you talking?"

The boy didn't say anything, just looked at him. The eyes were reflected in the rear-view mirror, and the pupils were large and black.

The driver added: "The radio was too loud just now, and my uncle didn't hear it clearly, so he heard twenty-five or five years or something."

The boy remained silent.

The driver gān laughed twice: "Children?"

The valve core of the child may have been pulled out.

The old man next to him finally couldn't see it, and said with a smile, "He's answering my words."

The driver murmured even more after hearing this, "Did you talk just now? I found that I had a problem with my ears when I entered a mountain."

"No." The old man turned the old ring on his index finger, rubbed the word "Shenqiao" on the ring with his dry finger belly, and said, "I didn't say it just now, I asked before."

The driver said "oh".

He didn't know how long ago the "before" meant, otherwise he might not go "oh".

There are many rumors in the area of ​​General Mountain, and no one wants to come here on weekdays. That is to say, business has been deserted recently, so as soon as Didi called, he took the order and regretted it.

There are no street lights in this area, only the reflective strips on the guardrail glow faintly. The rain was really heavy, and the shadows of the trees on both sides were twisted and twisted, like draped hair.

Sometimes I glanced at the rear-view mirror suddenly, and felt that the faces of the two people in the back seat were as pale as paper.

While meditating on the psychological effects and psychological effects, the driver couldn't help but feel a little fuzzy. He could only relieve himself by chatting, and the more he understood, the more panic he became...

He asked the old man in the back seat, "Why did you come to the mountains in this shabby weather? It's hard to get a car here."

The old man looked at the boy beside him with kind eyes and said, "It's difficult, there's no way, I have to pick him up."

Driver: "...Oh."

He didn't dare to ask why a child would wait for someone to pick him up in the mountains, so he had to say, "It's raining really hard. The temperature has dropped recently. Is it cold for the child to wear so little? Why don't I turn on the air conditioner?"

The old man still smiled, shook his head and said, "He won't be cold."

Driver: "...Oh."

This "not cold" and "not cold" must have the same meaning. He thought so, but the sweat was already down.

He rubbed his hands on his trousers embarrassedly, glanced in the rearview mirror again, and pretended to say: "This child in your family is really good-looking, at first glance, he looks like a handsome boy with fair skin— "

It was all white.

"—How old are you, it's time to go to school?"

The little boy who had been holding his head in the back seat finally couldn't listen anymore, raised his face, stared at the driver in the rearview mirror for a few seconds, and his stomach growled.

The wet water dripped down the tips of his jet-black hair, and he licked it.

The cracked lips said, "Hurry up, I'm hungry."