When someone with depression enters the horror game

Peach floats and Li Fei, Yang enters the great water and becomes Ping, Begonia is asleep, and peony is on the stage.

When the autumn wind blows and the leaves fall, it is just a momentary scene.

Wintersweet, tea flowers, narcissus on ice, camellia on fire.

There are six snowflakes.

After the snowflakes, another year of drizzle, the drizzle wets the streamer, and the streamer turns green again.

All of a sudden, the cherries turned red a few more times, and the time is always passing by at leisure.

The idle young man is also growing up day by day.

Shen Lian lay on the table and drew a Taoist talisman that he could not understand with cinnabar, listening to the rumored envoy chattering endlessly.

He interrupted the chattering girl, and couldn't help but ask, "Are you really an angel?"

In fact, he has asked this question many times.

The girl looked pious and nodded solemnly.

Shen Lian looked at her adoringly.

He was really struggling and couldn't bear to expose her. After all, such a poor acting skill could only deceive a three-year-old child or a man who fell in love at first sight.

Since such a skin is not a god, it can disappear at any time, so it is either a ghost or a demon.

The girl also knew that he just didn't expose it, but she still put on the script of an envoy and recited clumsy lines, waiting for him to question her identity.

The two of them played such a game and never got tired of it.

They're all boring enough after all.

The girl deliberately avoided the dead Zheng Qing and Shaoyao every time, and Shen Lian didn't pursue her past too much, so this matter was miraculously shelved.

"Hey, little man, another woman is going to sink in the pond this time?"

"That's right, there are more and more bones in the pool, and the hostility is almost overflowing."

"Who said that? The pool is clearly clear, full of sunlight, clouds and shadows."

The girl and Shen Lian laughed at this unwise joke.

Only the source of living water comes.

Whenever the running water can't wash away the smell of corpses, public anger will overflow.

The sorceress is still doing the ceremony of offering sacrifices to the heavens by the pond, and the blasphemous woman is about to be sunk in the pond slowly, but the villagers by the pond are all numb, not even the slightest bit of vile excitement is gone.

Shen Shenshen, I know Shen Shen all day long, but there are still fewer and fewer descendants of Ankang in the village, but more and more idiots.

Not all children are Shen Lian who has received the grace of God.

They may all be a little angry and a little panicky now, it just depends on when they dare to speak up.

Worshiping and worshiping the gods, but the gods do not give blessings, but they are not pious enough?

They don't know, and their hearts are full of worries about the withering of the population.

The witch is also getting old.

It's only been a few years, but she seems to have aged several decades, her whole face is riddled with holes, and she no longer has the spirit and spirit she had when she imprisoned Shen Lian in the ancestral hall.

She is not worried that she will have no successors, but she is also worried about how long this village will last in the future.

When she returned home, she felt a little comforted when she saw Shen Lian who was earnestly drawing talismans.

But she didn't know that it was her incompetent sorceress who had spread the evil results in the village.

Shen Lian cooked the meal before she came back, and the meal was still hot when the lid was lifted, just right for the mouth.

This year's mandarin fish is fatter and more delicious than previous years.

"Grandma, take a break."

After she finished eating, Shen Lian tidied up the dishes and thoughtfully suggested.

The witch was old, so she went into the inner room and went to rest.

Shen Lian took the cotton thread soaked in brine and ran to the pond to drive out the ghosts.

He tied a copper coin to the cotton thread and lit the fire pocket. The cotton thread was ignited, but it couldn't stop burning.

The surrounding villagers exclaimed.

"The ghosts have powerful spells, so this thread keeps burning no matter what," he explained in a low voice, as if he was a little ashamed, "There are also some ghosts who are wronged, and their grievances are too heavy to pass through."

So many people have sunk in this pool, which one is not wronged, which one is not complaining?

Finally, the divine envoy appeared, took out a pair of scissors offered in front of the god, and cut the cotton thread with a "click".

Everyone exclaimed and knelt down in unison.

They didn't dare to look up, but they heard their respected witch ask the question they had always wanted to ask.

"Dare to ask the envoy of the gods, believers in our village worship the gods, food and clothing kneel down, there is no shortage, and sacrifices of treasures are also rare, but why does God want my village to wither?"

The villagers closed their eyes and listened, eager to know why.

The envoy smiled and said, "You are indeed devout, God knows it, but people who should serve God wholeheartedly are not serious and loyal, God is naturally angry, and will give you the fruit."

Everyone was stunned.

"Anger is easy to ignite but hard to extinguish. To untie the bell, you have to tie the bell..." These last few words are ethereal, and when the villagers look up, where is the shadow of the envoy?

The villagers prayed to the blue sky again, and looked at each other after the worship, pondering the words of the envoy.

Shen Lian stood up, smiled softly at them, and said, "I should go back, mother-in-law is still sleeping."

The villagers just watched him go away blankly.

It wasn't until the fifth woman this year was put on a wooden boat by women in black that the villagers finally became completely angry.

They intercepted the wooden boat and surrounded the solemnly dressed sorceress.

The woman who was lucky enough to escape the catastrophe wailed loudly, not forgetting to cast a vicious glance at her mother-in-law while hiccupping when she was tired from crying.

The sorceress still doesn't understand what happened.

She had already reached the age of white hair and chicken skin, and she had to take three breaths when she took a step. Naturally, she had no strength to resist, so she was nailed to the dilapidated wooden boat by the angry villagers.

Shen Lian walked solemnly step by step, wearing his sacrificial attire for offering sacrifices to gods and worshiping a witch as his teacher for the first time.

Gold line on black background, mysterious and beautiful.

He approached the old woman, showed a perfect smile, and asked in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "If I ate the tribute fruit on the table back then, what would my mother-in-law do?"

When the witch saw him approaching, she understood everything.

She also grinned, a little gloomy, but quite natural: "I will judge you for blasphemy and sink you like your mother."

"The blasphemers have no place to bury their bones, they can only sink to the bottom of the pond to feed the fish." Shen Lian paused, "You taught me this before my mother turned into rotten meat."

He pushed the wooden boat into the water.

The clan elders and villagers gathered around.

This woman took a nap when she was supposed to be kneeling in front of the statue, disrespecting the gods and blaspheming the gods, and the gods repaid the results on her, which hurt the whole village.

It's time to kill.

They formed a perfect circle, whispering and whispering, counting the crimes of the sorceress.

Even the matter of not wearing the sacrificial costume 800 years ago-a little bit of thread on the sacrificial costume, was brought out and discussed in detail.

The peach blossoms are flowing and the plum blossoms are all white. This scene is very similar to the scene many years ago, like a reincarnation.

The torturer became the tortured person, and the little boy grew up, even wearing a black robe.

Only this time no one sang.

"Peaches float, plums fly, and there is no place to find them. When the flowers fall and the bones are buried."

Whose bones are buried?

Who knows?Fools are so stupid.

The sorceress has also turned into peach blossoms and cheese.

No one knows if she regretted being nailed to the wooden boat.

The mandarin fish has gained weight again.

The scenery of the pond is still beautiful. In summer, the water surface is clear and round, and the wind and the lotus are lifted one by one.

The old patriarch also drove west when the lotus was made into lotus and the lotus was made into clothes. The village was completely leaderless, and there was a bleak atmosphere.

Shen Lian threw herself on the old patriarch's body, crying so hard that her heart was broken, she even fainted after the great grief, as sad as if the old man who closed his eyes was his own grandfather.

After seven days of coercion, Shen Lian guarded the coffin in mourning, not daring to take a step away.

After the burial, they fasted in plain clothes, and did not move any meat.

Everyone in the village sighed and praised them for their honesty and filial piety, not in vain for the teachings of the old patriarch, nor in vain for their usual respect.

In such an atmosphere, Shen Lian consciously and slowly reduced the time of worshiping God, subtly, and began to use the medicine box to save people from illness, and even gained some fans.

After all, he has done enough posture. When he should be high, he looks like the moon in the sky and clouds in the sky. When he should be low, he falls into the mud, bowing his head willingly as a bully, without any hesitation.

The gesture is done well, small favors and small benefits, and parents will be recreated.

He actually defeated the son of the old patriarch and became the next patriarch.

Now, at such a young age, he monopolizes two of the three things: theocratic power, family power, and husband power.

In this small isolated village, the spring breeze is proud.

The angel covered his eyes and smiled.

He also had no choice but to brush her hand away, followed by a helpless smile.

"Little Master, the sky is going to be dry."

"Who told you that?"

"Drought ah."

"is it serious?"

The girl sat on the table and shook her head, drooping her legs and said, "It's not serious, it's only a few months."

Shen Lian thanked her earnestly, and then sighed pretending to regret: "You, an envoy of God, will only be able to work for a few months."

"How should I thank you, my little lord? And how should I compensate me?" The girl smiled with a smile on her lips, her eyes were like silk.

Shen Lian put down the pen in her hand, pinched her chin, and said seriously: "Then can we talk about Zheng Qing first?"

The girl said angrily, "I don't know how he died!"

After speaking, she disappeared again.

Zheng Qing... how did he die...

Shen Lian lay on the table and picked up the peony again.

The scorching sun was burning like fire, and the wild fields and rice were half-scorched. The green locust trees and tall willows that should have belonged to this season were also scared away by the mid-heaven sun.

In such a severe drought, if there is another early frost in autumn, I am afraid that the harvest in the fields will not save one or two out of ten.

The hot wind and heat wave were rolling in, and the water level of that small pond seemed to have dropped a lot.

The hearts of the villagers became more and more anxious with the noon sun, and they rushed into the ancestral hall to pray for rain from the gods.

However, the situation this time was not optimistic. They kowtowed their heads to the ground, expecting the favor of the gods.

But why does God have mercy on you?

Day after day, the gods still look down on their believers from above, watching them struggle anxiously and remain indifferent.

He is merciful. After all, all things are dogs, and He has no preference for anyone.

The water in the well also dries up slowly, and if this continues, it will become the first dry well in the village.

The villagers still gathered in the ancestral hall, knocking their bloody foreheads with a "dong dong".

However, it has been a drought for so many days without a drop of rain, and even they themselves know that this may be another futile effort.

Their Wu Zhuang knelt there solemnly, his originally smooth forehead was smashed into blood, like a statue, silent.

When he kowtowed his head for the last time and fainted, a soft light gradually appeared.

The oracle said that the great god wanted a boy and a girl.