C47

"Did my sister ever have anyone she liked?" I felt my heart crumble. What the hell is going on? Why are you asking me this?

"Yes," I replied stiffly.

The ghost lady in red didn't continue questioning him but started to fiddle with her long hair again.

After about two minutes, when I couldn't sit still any longer, I said, "Let me tell you a story."

I didn't say anything, but the red-clothed female ghost started talking on her own.

"At the age of eighteen, my parents had already betrothed me to the village's Master Zhang's only son, Zhang Hu. But when I was sixteen, I liked him, the only Elementary Scholar in our village, Yin Da.

We spent two years together. Those two years were my happiest days, but after Zhang Hu's parents found out, they caused trouble at my house, and my father lost face and broke my leg in a fit of anger. After I broke my leg, the Zhang family also broke off their engagement.

I thought it would be all right even if I lost my leg, because I still had him, and he gave me the look I had in mind, and sure enough, it wasn't long before he came to my house to propose marriage.

"My parents agreed without even thinking. From then on, I will be married to him. It's just as I imagined, he married me in a glorious manner."

As I said this, I saw that the long-haired female ghost's smile was filled with happiness. At this moment, her expression suddenly changed, and there was an additional trace of resentment on her face.

"But people really change. Two years after we were married, he and I spent less and less time together, but I still believe he loves me. Until he came home with another woman and told me he was going to marry her. "

The ghost lady's voice was no longer as calm as before, it had become a little sharper. I could even feel the despair and hatred in her words.

"At that moment, even my sky collapsed. I ruthlessly slapped that woman, saying that she was a fox girl. Hur Hur, what do you think the result will be? "

The ghost lady turned her gaze towards me, but she didn't seem to need my reply as she continued, "In the end, he tied me to a pillar at the entrance and emptied my organs. Do you think he should die?"

Who would have thought that she would suddenly ask me this question?

I didn't know what to say, but I heard her cry out, "Damn it, damn it, damn it, hahaha …"

When she turned her face, I was shocked. Her face was so dark that it was purple, her tongue was hanging out, and her eyes were empty. The most important thing was that apart from her head which was still intact, there was nothing else that could be said about her body.

My chest is full of cuts and cuts, my stomach is empty and black. If I go any further, there would be nothing left. I quickly get up and take a step back.

"Be careful!"

The man's voice rang in my ear again, and when I turned to look, I saw the ghost of a woman in red flying towards me, closing in on me.

"Do you think she should die or not? Should he die? What do you think? "

I was so nervous that I almost said it, but the man's voice stopped me in time.

"Don't answer her!"

I quickly shut my mouth. The man told me that she was supporting herself with a righteous thought, that she was stuck in the world with a tangled one. All I had to do was break her mind.

But how could I break her mind?

At this time, the red-clothed female ghost once again asked me if that man should die.

I swallowed my saliva and said to the ghost girl in red, "Why are you so fixated on the question of whether or not he should die? After so many years, he should have already become a pile of dried up bones. The reason why you still ask this question is because you have been unable to do it for so many years.

After saying this, the red-clothed female ghost fell straight down from the sky. "What? "No, impossible, I haven't killed him yet, how can he die, how can he?"

The ghost lady in red shook her head with all her might as she mumbled to herself with a look of disbelief. At the same time, she was trying her best to hold on to the hair that she had been in love with just a moment ago.

"No, how could he have died? How could he die? "How could he die, ah …"

She clutched her head with both hands, gave a long howl, and with a bang, the ghost vanished from my sight, leaving nothing behind.

I patted my chest and heaved a sigh of relief. The man obviously didn't expect me to destroy the ghost girl with just a few words. He couldn't help but praise me.

"As expected of my little girl, she's really amazing!"

What I was about to say choked in my throat, as if I'd heard it somewhere before.

But where?

Just as I was thinking about it, an old man walked in front of me. His clothes were tattered, but his face was still kind.

With a red and black walking stick, he shakily came in front of me.

He opened his mouth and said, "Everyone knows the aftereffects of death, but no one knows how to do good deeds in front of others!"

He looked at me and said nothing more.

The man's voice sounded again. "Girl, you can just burn his name back to him. He's a poor bastard who died without any descendants."

I carefully sized up the old man again, but it was to no avail. I said to the old man, "Old gramps, don't worry. If I can go back, I'll burn them all for you!"

The old man nodded, turned around and said, "Don't cross in front of you, be careful when you meet something."

I thought about these two sentences, probably because he wanted to remind me not to go to the intersection in front of me, pay attention.

I followed the road, and then I saw the crossroads.

But there was nothing, and when I looked again, there was nothing, and I could not help relaxing my vigilance, but just as I was about to step over, a man's voice stopped me.

"Crossroads, don't cross." After listening to him, I realized that the crossroads were normally filled with children who had died in the middle. Since they didn't have a chance and couldn't be born, they were buried on the crossroads.

When I thought about the children under the road, I couldn't help but take a creepy step back. At that moment, an old lady wearing a white cotton scarf wrapped around her head and holding a basket in her hand smiled at me from the side of her mouth.

I took a closer look. The basket was filled with bloody strips of cloth and a handful of black scissors.

The man told me that it was this old lady who would cut the umbilical cord of a child who usually died from childbirth. Hearing that, I silently cursed him a dozen times in my heart.

What the hell was this? How was he supposed to clean up his wicked deeds?