C142 sigh

Some people died, but they were still alive. Some people were alive, but they looked dead.

Hu Dali and I carried the coffin and looked at the people on the street.

foster-grandpa is lying in his coffin, so he can't talk to us anymore or he will be exposed, so if anything happens, the two of us can only discuss it with each other.

Hu Dali was in a muddled state all day, unable to give me any advice, so it means that I have to face this situation on my own.

I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down, and carried the coffin forward.

The people on the street didn't notice either of us, but they were both whispering, occasionally reaching out and touching each other's hearts to make sure they were alive or dead. It seems like my worries are unnecessary.

Although we were safe for the time being, it was strange for two people carrying coffins to pass on the street. I was worried that these people would touch my chest, which would expose me, so I lowered my head and walked quickly across the street.

I had a hard ride, because they were all my countrymen. A lot of people watched me grow up, and I went to their funerals and cried on their graves when they were buried.

Now, he suddenly saw their souls and saw that they were talking, laughing, and feeling puzzled. That feeling was really sad.

We were almost at the village entrance, and the people on the streets were clearly becoming sparser. I was also slightly relieved.

Hu Dali muttered from behind: "Should we take a break? This coffin is too heavy. "

I was also exhausted, I said to Hu Dali: "That's right, why is this coffin so heavy?"

Hu Dali said: "Isn't there something special about this coffin? The thicker the coffin, the more imposing it was. In any case, there are no more living people in the village, so I made it myself by chopping down trees and making it eight inches thick. "

I almost dropped the coffin on the floor. Is this for a coffin? Eight inches was enough to defend against bullets, right?

We went out of the village in whispers. One of the benefits of bickering like this was that it could make people forget to be afraid.

It didn't take long before we reached the foot of the grave. Then I stopped and stared straight ahead.

At the foot of the mountain stood a man. He is my clan uncle.

With his hands behind his back, he stood in the cold wind. Beside him was an oil lamp. The flame was blown back and forth by the wind. It was about to be extinguished a few times, but it slowly returned to normal.

Hu Dali, who was carrying the coffin behind me, gave it a light push, and I forced myself to walk towards my clan uncle while carrying the coffin.

My uncle was facing me, but his eyes weren't focused at all. I didn't know if he was looking at me.

I know in my heart that my clan uncle lost his life in Golden Toad Temple when I was young. His soul should have already left, right? And the one who spoke to me all these years was someone else.

I have feelings for him, but I also know that he is an accomplice of the Ghost Prisoner and that he has always wanted to harm us all. Thus, when I see my uncle again, my emotions were exceptionally complicated.

I want to go around the clan uncle and leave his side. However, my uncle dodged and blocked my path.

I had to stop.

"Who is it?" my uncle asked me.

When I heard these words, I heaved a sigh of relief. It seems like the clothes on my body worked. My uncle really didn't recognize me.

I said solemnly, "The people who sent the funeral."

The clan uncle asked again, "For whom?"

I said, "To the Old Master Yang. a Old Master Yang that has returned to its roots. "

The clan uncle slowly nodded and said to me, "There's something that needs to be done in the village. You foreigners must bury the people and leave as soon as possible." Then he moved aside and motioned us through.

Relieved, I carried the coffin up the hill.

However, just as I took two steps, my uncle stretched out his hand and pressed it on the coffin.

I was already struggling to lift it, but now that he pressed me with his hand, the coffin almost fell to the ground.

I did not dare to speak, but gritted my teeth and lifted the coffin up again.

"Is the thing inside really the Old Master Yang?" The clan uncle asked faintly.

Hu Dali stretched his neck and said: "Of course, why don't we open the coffin for you to see?"

I thought to myself, "Isn't this digging a hole for myself? If clan uncle really opens the coffin, wouldn't all of it be exposed? "

However, with how calm Hu Dali was, his uncle actually believed him. He said lightly: "I have restrained myself. Opening the coffin again is too disrespectful to the dead. Old Master Yang has been living in our village for so many years, we cannot let him die without feeling good about it. You can go. "

I agreed and was about to leave when my uncle called out to me again, "What's Old Master Yang's name?"

I felt my heart tighten. "We really have to ask for his name?"

Just at that moment, Hu Dali, who was behind him, blurted out, "Yang Zongbao."

I almost fainted. Is this kid watching too much Yang family?

I was afraid that my clan uncle would be suspicious, but Hu Dali had already said it out loud, so I could only pinch my nose and accept it. I carefully glanced at my uncle and discovered that he was writing something down with his head lowered.

A moment later, a wooden sign was thrust into my lap. The clan uncle said indifferently, "When Old Master Yang died, he only had a coffin, and didn't even have the money to pay for it. It was really shabby. You can take this memorial tablet as a token of the good intentions of the Hu Family. "

I took a closer look and saw that it was written: Yang Zongbao's position.

I put the tablet away, thanked my clan uncle, and carried the coffin up the grave hill.

Once they climbed the mountain, there would be no one around them. I could even feel the souls on the grave hill disappearing. They might have gone to the village to visit relatives they hadn't seen for years.

I whispered to Hu Dali: "Can you stop talking nonsense later on? I nearly got killed by you just now. "

Hu Dali asked curiously: "What happened just now? What a nice name I've come up with. "

I didn't want to argue with him, so I said, "Later on, if you want to live, don't talk."

Hu Dali acknowledged and did not speak further.

We carried the coffin all the way to the cemetery. Relying on my memories, I searched around, but to my surprise, I couldn't find foster-grandpa's grave.

I asked Hu Dali: "Is my foster-grandpa buried near here?"

It was quiet behind him, not a single sound could be heard.

I was a little puzzled, but when I looked back, I was so scared that I started shivering: The one who carried the coffin with me was not Hu Dali, but a paper man.

I threw the coffin away. With a dull thud, the coffin fell to the ground, accompanied by Hu Dali's painful cry, "My foot, it's going to break!"

I just realised that Hu Dali's paper man wasn't tied up properly, and he was bent over to carry the coffin, when the paper man slid down from his shoulder and blocked his body, it was as if the person who carried the coffin turned into a paper man.

I walked over apologetically and looked at his feet. It was already quite red, but it definitely wasn't as serious as it was when it was cut off.

I asked Hu Dali: "Why didn't you say anything when I told you to just now?"

Hu Dali looked at me with grievance: "Didn't you say you couldn't let me speak?"

I was suddenly speechless.

I asked him: "Do you know where the grave of my foster-grandpa is?"

Hu Dali said: "Your own foster-grandpa's tomb, and you ask me? How unfilial. I don't know either, let's open the coffin and ask the foster-grandpa himself. "

I thought to myself: If I really ask, foster-grandpa would probably be angry, but this is an extraordinary time. If angry, I will be angry, but if it can save my life, then so be it.

So Hu Dali and I lifted the coffin lid.

foster-grandpa sat up: "How is it?"

I said with a little difficulty: "foster-grandpa, I can't find your grave."

The foster-grandpa was not unhappy. He pointed behind me: "Isn't it here?"

I turned my head and saw that it was indeed the foster-grandpa's tomb. I was a little puzzled. I had just taken so many turns, how come I couldn't see it at all?

I said to Hu Dali: "Alright, let's begin."

Hu Dali and I took out our shovels and hoes and began to dig the grave.

I have done this a few times with the Mr. Zhao, so I have some experience in it.

I put the hoe in the coffin and pried hard. The coffin creaked and I pried it open.

Just as I was about to jump down the grave and open the coffin, I heard a long sigh.

I shuddered and looked in the direction of the sound.

I didn't see anyone, just a red dot, flickering, accompanied by a strong smell of smoke. It was as though … There was a man hiding in the dark, smoking a cigarette.

I asked Hu Dali: "Did you hear a sound just now?"

Hu Dali was busy prying open the coffin, and absent-mindedly said: "I heard. "Creak, creak, creak. This coffin is about to rot."

I said, "It's not the coffin. It's the sigh."

Hu Dali said: "I didn't hear it, who sighed?"

I looked in that direction again, and the red dot was gone. As if it was just my imagination.

I became more and more uneasy, so I asked the foster-grandpa, "Did you hear the voice? The sigh just now was extremely similar to yours. "

foster-grandpa said, "No, let's quickly open the coffin."

Suddenly my heart was in turmoil, as if someone were watching me from a distance and telling me to hurry over. I don't know what will happen in the future, but I can feel that if I don't go, something bad will happen.

So I gave a little cough and said to the two of them, "I'm in a hurry to pee. I'll go over there for a while."

Hu Dali said: "Ninth day, you're getting bolder and bolder. There are graves everywhere and you still dare to pee?"

And foster-grandpa said: "We are all men, what's there to be embarrassed about? Just pee here. "

I smiled dryly and said, "I can't pee here. Let me hide for a bit."

Without waiting for them to say anything, I hastily headed towards the place where I just sighed.

I found the place by feeling it, and then I saw a grave.

There were graves everywhere on the mountain, but this lonely grave gave people a feeling of loneliness.

"Sigh …" The sigh came again, from behind the tombstone.

Cautiously, I walked over and slowly peeked behind the tombstone.

I saw the Regeneration. The foster-grandpa was sitting behind the tombstone, holding onto the smoke that was rising from the drought.