Wake up, stop dreaming [Quick Transmigration]

The remains of the corpse were scattered on the ground, the blood seeped into the ground, and the terrified faces were frozen, and then gradually swallowed by the flames.

The red light shot straight into the sky, and the Zheng Family Opera Garden, which was once prosperous for a while, became a scorched earth amidst the absurdity.

The fire burned all night, at dawn, the ghosts dissipated, and the tip of Zuo Yan's nose was filled with the smell of burning, as well as the stench of rotting flesh.

And the cause of the fire was that the servants knocked over the candles in the mourning hall while struggling and panicking.

This night was undoubtedly a torment, whether it was for him or for the dead.

Zuo Yan still stood where he was, and the big tree and stone table who had been with him before could no longer see his original appearance.

"There is a cause and an effect, and it's all revenge."

System: "It's just a fragment of memory, don't care too much about it."

How can I not care, I'm still stuck here!Who can help me.

Zuo Yan sighed, "I don't eat barbecue anymore."

The system looked at the charred corpse in front of it, thinking about eating at such a time, the brain circuit is also not following the usual path.

There was an exclamation not far away. It was Zheng Zidong. He took his team to the Marshal's Mansion to sing an opera yesterday but did not return.

Facing the devastated home, he staggered closer and was stopped by the people around him. Although the flame was extinguished, the residual heat was still there, and it was scorching hot to the touch. Who dared to let him touch it.

This huge troupe can only be supported by these teenage boys.

His relatives and friends were half dead, he grabbed the people around him and yelled frantically, asking, but who could tell him the reason?

As night falls, the ghosts that come and go in and out of the ruins of the house are once again with Zuo Yan.

Brother, don't leave, you have circled eight times before my eyes.

Little brother, can you go crawling over there, you always pass through my body, my feet hurt.

No one could hear his voice or see him.

Zuo Yan seemed out of place among this group of ghosts.

He wanted to go home, really, never missed home so much for a moment.

He would rather play games with Xiaoyi than share the moonlight with them.

While sighing, I saw that the group of ancestors suddenly turned their heads in unison, and there was a young man standing at the place where the door used to be.

With eyes wide open in disbelief, he muttered, "Second Uncle, Third Brother...Little Six..."

The group of ghosts moved towards him slowly, he staggered back and ran away frantically.

Zuo Yan shook his head, this poor child, I hope that the double blows during the day and night will not make him recover from a setback.

The truth is, he thinks too much.

A few days later, Zheng Zidong reappeared in Zheng's house with a monk on his tired face.

The monk looked like an angry King Kong, walked around the yard for a few times with a serious face, and stopped just in front of Zuo Yan. A string of rosewood beads in his hand was torn off, and the beads scattered all over the ground.

"Master, this..." Zheng Zidong was puzzled.

"You watch."

The beads on the ground rolled down in the shade, and under the blue sky and white sun, the beads quickly turned black, and a wisp of green smoke rose slightly.

"The resentment is too deep, and it can cause trouble in the daytime. What did you do?"

When they didn't see it, the Buddhist beads fell at Zuo Yan's feet for a moment, and shattered into powder the next moment.

Zuo Yan: ...

The system sighed, "It's really brutal."

Zheng Zidong clasped his hands tightly and lowered his head, "I also...don't know."

The monk scrutinized his god, "I don't care about your family affairs when I take money to do things. However, since this resentment comes from your blood relatives, ordinary methods can't solve it."

"Master, what do you mean?"

"Since you have found me, I will tell you directly. If you want to save your deceased relative, I advise you to give up this idea as soon as possible. The resentment is too deep. You can't send it away, you can only suppress it."

"Repression?"

"That's right, and we have to find something that is both yin and yang to suppress it."

Either fight against them, or find something that is naturally superior to them.

Zheng Zidong frowned, "Master, what exactly is the most yin thing?"

"Anything that is overcast is fine, such as the funerary objects in this tomb, but you have to pay attention to the grades of these things, and they are too inferior to be suppressed.

You can find this thing slowly by yourself, I will not refund the deposit you paid this time, we are very busy at Duhua Temple. "The monk patted his abdomen, which looked even less like a monk, but more like a bandit.

Zheng Zidong looked hesitant. Seeing that the master was about to leave, he hurriedly stepped forward to stop him, "Master, wait a minute. I have something here. I wonder if it can be used as a suppressor."

"Oh? Let me have a look." The monk turned around, a little surprised.

"Such things are not with me for the time being, but I will try to get them as soon as possible."

The picture freezes on Zheng Zidong's preoccupied expression.

"Duhua Temple? It sounds familiar."

System: "The predecessor of the Special Investigation Office is now called Kaifeng Mansion."

Zuo Yan: "I seem to have an ominous premonition."

Time passed quickly, and when Zheng Zidong appeared in front of him again, they were in the wilderness.

The great monk on the opposite side didn't even have a trace of a smile at the moment, "You really impress me."

Zheng Zidong gritted his teeth, "I heard from my grandmother when I was a child that he was born in a cloudy year and a cloudy moon, and he was born to restrain his relatives, so he was abandoned by his relatives. Does this count as the most yin thing?"

The monk raised his hand, Zheng Zidong hesitated, and asked the people behind to dig the grave.

Zuo Yan stared at the tombstone in front of him, and turned to look at the boy beside him with complicated eyes.

Digging graves, he has also done, but the meaning is different.

Zheng Zidong, when did you start growing up?

The coffin was carried out and the lid was opened, the monk was surprised.

"Interesting, Shen's corpse doesn't rot, your Zheng family shouldn't be out of luck."

Hearing this, Zheng Zidong strode to the side of the coffin, the face of the person inside the coffin was lifelike, and the skin elasticity remained the same.

It was as if he just fell asleep and could open his eyes the next moment!

"Little uncle...it's impossible! He's been dead for eight years!"

The monk said: "Is there any impossibility? Let me ask you, did the person lying here have experienced the calamity of life and death when he was young?"

Zheng Zidong didn't dare to look at the person in the coffin, "I...I don't know, my grandmother picked him up from the snow."

"In the twelfth lunar month of winter, this man died a long time ago. Because he was born in a cloudy time, he was only half human and half dead alive. Was he weak when he was alive?"

"……Yes."

"It stands to reason that he can't survive the weak crown."

The monk looked at him suspiciously, but Zheng Zidong avoided his gaze, "The medicine will help."

He hadn't spoken yet, but changed the subject instead, "It really fits Zhiyin, are you sure you've thought it through?"

"I. Master, let's do it."

Zuo Yan listened to what they said, and looked down at the coffin. The man was lying in the coffin, but he still couldn't see his face clearly.

I don't know if he left peacefully or not.

I still remember that when he was a child, he held his nose and gently licked it with two immature teeth, and he also remembered the love in his eyes when he touched the fluff on his cheeks.

They also hid from the snow together, and even played Big Transformation. Zuo Yan can be said to have watched him grow up.

Just as I did not witness his birth, nor did I witness his departure.

The nose is a little sore, and I feel uncomfortable.

System: "Why are you crying?"

Zuo Yan: "I looked after my eldest son with painstaking efforts, and he just disappeared."

System: "Son?"

"I've always regarded him as my son, alas."

System: ... You shed tears when you knew the truth.

However, being dug up is not enough, what really makes Zuo Yan feel distressed is what happened next.

Qingxiu's body was burned to ashes together with the coffin, and the monk personally used his ashes to make a tombstone half the length of an arm and the width of a palm.

A scarlet town word was written on the pitch-black tombstone.

It was written with the blood released from Qingxiu's body.

The monk drives away the ghosts in the woods outside the town at night. Once the stele is suppressed, the ghosts are often buried under the deep soil.

Zuo Yan was stopped in front of the stele, looking at the black stele in front of him, the admiration of the man standing on the stage, and the indifference of the man off the stage appeared in his mind.

That Young Master Qingxiu whose every move involved so many people's hearts ended up in such a fate.

There was the sound of messy footsteps coming, and he fell down in front of the monument, "Little uncle...Little uncle..."

One mouthful and one little uncle, the innocent face of the once immature child is still vivid, but no matter what, he is still connected with this person in front of him.

"Little uncle, please forgive me... I have no choice but to do this. The master said that if their ghosts are not suppressed, they will continue to haunt the descendants of the Zheng family.

Too many people have died, I can't help it... I really can't help it, the blood of the Zheng family...Little uncle"

He had only one apprentice in his life, and although he didn't admit it, he taught him sincerely.

"The Zheng family is to blame. Who is to blame? He doesn't owe you." Even though he knew he couldn't hear him, Zuo Yan couldn't help but say a word for Qing Xiu.

From the beginning to the end, there was only one Mrs. Zheng who was repaired for Qing. For this kindness, she dragged her frail body to serve the Zheng family for seventeen years. Zuo Yan did not forget that he was bleeding from the corner of his mouth when he got off the stage, and he didn't care to wipe it off.

Tired during life, and restless after death.

Zuo Yan was used to the rapid passing of the surrounding scenes, but he couldn't help but take another look at the pitch-black stele.

This time, what Zuo Yan saw was the monk, who was running fast, and the branches of the trees in front blocked his sight.

Soon, the sound of fighting came from ahead, accompanied by human howling.

The monk's speed became faster. Finally, he pushed aside the last clump of branches, and Zuo Yan was momentarily frozen in view of everything in front of him.

It can be vaguely seen to be a human corpse, which can only be described as fragmented.

The blood stained the ground red, and the sprayed blood on the leaves and trunks was intact.

For a moment, the head was held in the pale hands, and the hideous face could still recognize the Taoist priest.

The arrival of the monk caused the person in the middle to turn his head, full of hostility, even though he had an expression on his face, even if he just glanced over indifferently, it made people tremble for no reason.

"It's you!" The monk couldn't believe it.

This is what Zuo Yan wanted to say, and it turned out to be him.

Who would wear this black robe with his demeanor?

The tall and tall young master held a folding fan in his hand, and his mouth was amazing.

The face that had not been seen clearly, the truth was revealed in front of his eyes when the clouds and mists were pushed away.

"I should have thought of that."

The picture was blown away by the wind, and the figure of the man turned into fragments and disappeared before his eyes.

There is a feeling in the dark that he can get out of here.

Zuo Yan couldn't help turning his head, the vague shadow of Zheng's Theater was behind him.

His eyes passed through many large courtyards where he practiced his figure and sang his voice, through the corridors hurriedly passed by the maids, and finally stopped at the room full of medicinal smell all the year round.

The young man leaned on the bedside, and a servant took a box, bowed down and left.

He opened his slender fingers and took it out, looking at it in a daze.

That is, a chubby panda.

Qing Xiu suddenly paused, turned his head, and looked at the corner of his eyes with a smile.

A clear voice reached his ears, "Selling candied haws."

Zuo Yan's pupils dilated, "You..."

The next moment, he disappeared into the corridor of memory. When he opened his eyes, he saw that familiar face in front of him.

"Qingxiu..."