Museum of Demons

Wan Qiniang looked at the long sword in Wei Yuan's hand, opened her lips slightly, and suddenly smiled and said:

That's right...but I won't sit still.

Who among us will live and who will die, we have to try first.

The black hair on her back grew again, stained with the cold moisture, her fingers were blue and white, but her nails were sharp and black, and the red dress became strange, stained with black spots, revealing a mottled ancient feeling.

She turned back into a ghostly state.

Zhou Yi and Xuan's complexion changed suddenly. They couldn't hear Wei Yuan and Wan Qiniang's words clearly, but they could understand the change. They were so violent that they used up all the talismans and were in a state of exhaustion, unable to move forward.

Wei Yuan holds the sword in both hands.

The blood on the sword turned into a golden talisman.

When she saw Wan Qiniang turning into a ghost again, she closed her eyes.

Then he murmured, and ran forward quickly, his eyes fixed on the ghost's heart, his footsteps stopped abruptly, and the sword in his hand was handed out. It was the simplest and most fierce straight stab, but the experience from the battlefield made him His sword is vividly drawn.

The power rises from the feet, the waist, legs, arms, shoulders, and finally to the wrist, every muscle that should be used is used; from the ground under the feet to the blade, every joint collision transmits the power to it, and finally pours it perfectly to the blade.

To do such a perfect movement.

Wei Yuan didn't think anything.

This comes from the experience gained from the life and death of the Qi family army's military soul.

On the battlefield where a moment of slowness is death, such complex body movements do not need to be thought about.

The sword blade smeared with Captain Crouching Tiger's blood pierced through Wan Qiniang's heart without any hindrance, and her arms and nails avoided Wei Yuan like the old man just now, as if sending her heart to the sword. The same as on the blade.

The blood on the sword severely damaged the soul body.

Why?

Wei Yuan held his sword and asked.

Wan Qiniang's face turned pale again, she pursed her lips and smiled, but did not answer.

Over the ghost domain, a strange vitality began to fluctuate violently.

The illusion woven by the soul's longing is shattered bit by bit. The tall buildings, pavilions, and gardens disappear, revealing their collapsed and dilapidated faces. disappear.

The aftermath before disappearing made Zhou Yi and Xuan Yi groan and fell into a coma.

The thing in Xuanyi's hand fell to the ground, made a soft noise, and started to rotate.

Wei Yuan also received a frontal impact, but the power of exorcising ghosts covered his body with a film-like shield, which cut off a large part of the damage, but his face turned pale, and a trace of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

The soul and body are injured, and the external trauma is not obvious, but the power will continue to flow.

Wan Qiniang's soul gradually became transparent and returned to heaven and earth.

She looked at Wei Yuan, suddenly smiled, and said:

When Mr. Wei came here just now, he said that he wanted to listen to Qiniang's song?

………good.

Young master, is there still leisure and elegance? I want to sing another song.

Wei Yuan nodded slightly.

Wan Qiniang stood in front of Wei Yuan, regretfully saying:

It's just a pity that there are no instruments, so I can only sing a cappella.

What's so difficult about it?

Sitting on a piece of bluestone, Wei Yuan put the eight-faced Han sword, which was already at the limit, across his knees, and tapped the sword with his fingers. The force was different, and the sound was completely different at different places, as if playing music, but The sound of gold and iron is strong after all.

Wei Yuan said:

I played swords and sang songs for girls.

Young Master Lao.

Wei Yuan paused, and said, Mr. Jiang has always been apologetic.

Wan Qiniang lowered her eyebrows and said softly:

It's over, what's the point of bringing it up again?

I don't want to forgive them either.

Well, it's only natural.

Captain Crouching Tiger flicked his sword with his fingers.

The wind blows away the wind and rain, the ponds wither among the dilapidated pavilions, all the beauties and benefactors of the past are gone, the rouge shop has no customers, and in the distance, high-rise buildings have sprung up. Prosperity is like a dream, but when the girl raised her hand, she shook her sleeves, her eyebrows and eyes were tactful, and she opened her mouth in a low voice.

That is still the Jiangnan of the year.

……………………

Zhou Yi opened her eyes in a daze.

She immediately recalled the scene before she fell into a coma and shivered.

Almost instinctively, he rolled to one side. At the same time, he pulled out the half-handled sword on the ground, looked up, and then froze for a moment.

The ghost is gone.

The surroundings are no longer the vast haunted theater garden. You can see the dilapidated appearance everywhere. The trees have fallen and rotted, with faint moss growing, and mushrooms growing on one side. On the windows of ancient buildings Produce white cobwebs.

The lotus pond withered.

It's no longer gloomy here, it's just dilapidated.

Wei Yuan was sitting on the bluestone with his back facing the two.

Zhou Yi breathed a sigh of relief, and said, You're fine,...where's Wan Qiniang?

Wei Yuan said lightly: The soul and body are shattered and returned to heaven and earth.

It's good that you wake up, I should go too.

He stood up.

Qiniang has disappeared, but the pair of red embroidered shoes that are one of the evidences for the existence of the ghosts are still there. The ferocity has dissipated, but they are still not ordinary objects, which may attract the lodging and use of lonely ghosts. Wei Yuan found I bought a wooden box and put away the embroidered shoes and the stack of letterheads.

He thought of the sentence Qiniang said before she disappeared, and his thoughts paused.

Then he opened the black umbrella, turned around and walked out.

Zhou Yi saw the eight-faced Han sword that had experienced a lot of hard work stuck upside down in front of the blue stone.

And Wei Yuan's fingers were red and swollen, bleeding, seeing Wei Yuan raised his hand to push the door, ready to leave, Zhou Yi subconsciously shouted: Who are you?!

Wei Yuan didn't look back, and replied:

Just a regular guy looking at a museum.

If you have the skills, you can take a look.

He opened the door and walked out along the stone road. The rain had stopped, and the stone was reflecting faintly. A tour guide led a group of tourists passing by and introduced loudly through a loudspeaker:

...Look here, everyone. This is the most well-preserved ancient street in Jiangnan Road. There used to be many stalls here. Look here. This is Jixiangfang. It was a famous big rouge shop in Jiangnan in the past. Women all hope Can use the good rouge here...

There is also the front. In the Ming Dynasty, Chunxiao Court, the two major opera gardens on Jiangnan Road, is also called Chunxiao Building. I think it will be open to everyone soon. When the time comes, we will have tea in it, and our theater troupe will also be on the stage. Singing opera and singing, let everyone experience the style of the Ming Dynasty in ancient times...

Tourists nodded in admiration.

Among them are two little girls who are only six or seven years old. While discussing their favorite opera styles, they imitate their appearance on TV, raising one hand and twisting their sleeves with the other, innocent and innocent.

In the sound of footsteps.

Holding an umbrella, Wei Yuan brushed shoulders with the tourists.

away from each other.

Who remembers the many romantic pasts in the misty and rainy places in the south of the Yangtze River?

It's okay not to remember.