Museum of Demons

My name is Fang Cheng, and I can accomplish nothing.

Thirty years old, single.

In addition to work, I like to climb mountains with my friends. I am a mountaineer.

Nearby mountains that are suitable for climbing have basically been climbed by us.

I feel a little bored.

Suddenly someone in the group sent a message, saying that they found a mountain that no one had climbed.

I looked at the speaker and I got the impression.

He hadn't spoken in the group for a long time.

But there are mountains to climb, I find it very interesting.

I contacted him.

A total of seven people set off, it is indeed a rare mountain, the scenery is very good.

It's hard to imagine that there are mountains that retain such a complete flavor nearby.

It's just a pity that we were hit by heavy rain.

Taking shelter from the rain in a hurry, I saw a wooden house on the mountain, which was lived by the forest watcher, and the forest watcher was not there.

But his daughter is there.

We had dinner on the mountain, and the seven companions huddled together to rest, and I couldn't sleep.

I went out, wanting to relax and see the scenery.

It shouldn't be too far from the city.

I looked into the distance, but couldn't see any lights.

It may be that the night fog is too thick today.

I thought.

The forester's hut is still lit, are you still awake at this late hour?

I want to go over and have a chat with that young girl.

The windows are not closed.

She is doing her makeup in front of a mirror.

I pinched my cigarette, didn't bother her, just waited quietly.

She uses an eyebrow pencil to draw her eyebrows thinly, uses modern cosmetics, and uses bright red lipstick.

The painting is so beautiful.

I can't help thinking in my heart.

Suddenly I heard the sound of tearing, I didn't pay attention, just thinking about my experience.

I can't accomplish anything, and I can't really accomplish anything at this age. I can only focus on my hobbies to distract myself from the cognition of failure. I have lost interest in chatting and want to turn around and leave, but tear The voice is getting louder and louder.

I raised my head and saw the woman with her back to me reaching out her hand, scratching her forehead, and exerting force on both sides.

The face reflected in the mirror was torn off like this!

The human skin with a clean makeup was painted and placed neatly beside it.

Under the human skin, there are all bones.

It looked at me.

He let out an involuntary exclamation.

What a skin.

……………………

when--

Wei Yuan placed a wooden box on a table in the museum, exhaled, stretched out his hand to adjust the position, and then was barely satisfied, took a step back, and looked at it without any sense of disobedience when placed in various exhibits wooden box.

The soldiers of Qi's army stood beside Wei Yuan.

The remaining four guys shrank into a ball, far away from here, wishing to run outside.

Inside the wooden box was the pair of gold-painted red soft shoes.

It was something left by Wan Qiniang.

The original ferocity has disappeared, only a pair of shoes with supernatural powers.

Wei Yuan knocked on the box and warned the pair of shoes not to go for a walk casually, let alone dance.

Quietly turn on the computer and listen to opera without even thinking about it.

Then a drop of blood was dripped on the lock of the box, which was regarded as a seal.

After the hostility in Wan Qiniang's body dissipated, he got the supernatural power [Zhu Ling], because he is the Crouching Tiger Captain of this generation, he seems to carry something, the blood can be mixed with the supernatural power [exorcism] effect, Has a certain restraint ability for strange powers and chaos.

Open the outermost anti-theft door, and then open the shutter door on the next window.

It's been several days since I came back from Jiangnan Road. One autumn rain and one cool one, and one spring rain became warmer after another. Wei Yuan stretched his waist, a little lazy, without the disturbance and threat of ghosts, He could finally feel a little more at ease.

Open the phone, there is a recording audio inside.

Thanks to modern technology, he recorded Wan Qiniang's last song.

Wei Yuan registered a new account, and then posted the audio to several major websites in China.

After a while, someone left a message, or maybe it was because the review took the initiative to push this short audio to a more prominent position. Many people clicked on this audio, and the number of views and comments increased rapidly.

All are shocking and admiring messages, and occasionally some who spit out sour water quickly disappear.

Front row, ask everyone Yanzu, who sang this?

Damn it, I knelt down, this tone is too upright!

Mom asked me why I was kneeling and listening to music.

However, I am uneducated, so I can walk the world with a single sentence

The gods have worked hard!

The corner of Wei Yuan's mouth curled up.

look.

There are still many people who like it.

There were constant private messages in the backstage of the account, some praised, and some from the music company. Wei Yuan ignored them all and closed them directly. Then he pulled a chair over, put it at the door of the store, and sat on the wooden chair.

Inside the earphones are the tunes with first-hand clarity.

In this world, the last song of the last oiran of Jiangnan Road.

Some aunts living nearby came out for a stroll to buy groceries, and the old men went to play chess early. Suddenly, they saw that this folk museum was open again. All the old men with strange eyes and strong spirits shook their arms, preferring to go around a little longer. Quan'er refused to walk through the door.

An aunt walked around several times, and finally couldn't help but leaned over and said:

Young man, you live here...

Wei Yuan took off his earphones and nodded, and said with a smile, Yes, what's the matter, Auntie?

The aunt raised her eyes to look at the reopened museum, hesitated for a long time, and said:

Your house, it's not very clean.

Listen to my aunt's advice, you'd better not live here.

Wei Yuan thanked, and said with a smile: Thank you, but Auntie, our modern society emphasizes science, so where are the ghosts and monsters? Besides, I am young and full of energy, so I am not afraid of those things.

After seeing off grandpa and aunt, Wei Yuan squinted his eyes and leaned on the recliner, lazily basking in the sun.

He hasn't opened the file opened by Crouching Tiger's belt card yet.

From the name, Wei Yuan could vaguely guess that this file might not be that simple.

At least he's not in the mood to watch it now.

Only when you lose it can you know its value. After experiencing the incident in Jiangnan Road, he now feels that a peaceful life is the best. If it is not necessary, he does not intend to take the initiative to get involved in the affairs of demons and ghosts. He is basking in the sun and listening to it with his eyes closed. That opera, the palm of the hand patted the armrest lightly, and hummed softly.

There is no end to the song.

There was a sound of an engine starting in the distance, like the roar of a giant beast.

A locomotive stopped in front of the museum in full view. A woman in a leather jacket got off the locomotive. She took off her helmet, revealing her sharp short hair with beautiful curves. She casually put the helmet on the locomotive.

Hearing the sound, Wei Yuan opened his eyes, looked at the woman who was supposed to be a Taoist priest, and said:

Officer Zhou?

Zhou Yi nodded with a smile and said, Master Wei.

Wei Yuan wanted to explain that he was not the owner of the museum, but seeing Zhou Yi's appearance, he didn't care about it, so he smiled and dismissed the question, took off his earphones, got up and invited the guests into the museum, road:

I didn't expect Officer Zhou to take the initiative to come to my museum.

Zhou Yi said: Thank you, and I'll give you something by the way.

She took out a three-foot-long wooden box from the side of the locomotive and handed it to Wei Yuan.

I saw your sword, it is no longer usable.

This is a thank you gift.

Wei Yuan opened the sword box, inside was still an eight-faced Han sword, even the scabbard was there, the handle was heavy and delicate, even if he was not in the state of driving the soul of soldiers, he could still distinguish the texture of the sword, couldn't help but said:

Good sword.

Zhou Yi said: As long as you like it.

This was made by Longquan's lineage last year. The craftsmanship and center of gravity are comparable to the swords of ancient warlords. It's hard to find in the market. There happened to be one in the special operations team. I replaced it as a kindness to your life. repay.

Wei Yuan flicked the edge of the sword, heard the sound of the sword, brushed the sword with his palm, then put the sword into the sword case, put it aside, and looked at Zhou Yi: Officer Zhou came, it must be more than this matter, right?