Mr. Monster

The custom of fox people is to be cremated after death.

Under the leadership of Huan Ye, the fox people who survived the catastrophe piled up the corpses scattered all over the mountains and plains.

So the tens of thousands of corpses piled up and burned in the raging fire.The soaring flames reflected an unusual red glow in the corner of the sky, just like the ghosts wandering in the sky full of blood covered in blood, howling their anger, fear and uneasiness like weeping.

Huan Ye sat down cross-legged before the sea of ​​flames burned his life.The scorching flames made his blue and white face smeared with a sick flush, and the ferocious hot wind made his thin clothes rattle.

However, he straightened his thin waist, slowly stretched out his hands, and the spiritual light was condensing in the palms.When the light and shadow are shining brightly, a simple and elegant black wood guqin comes out in a condensed form!

With a swipe of his slender fingers, a series of mournful piano sounds swayed in the fiery heaven and earth.The five thin strings seemed to be alive, weeping sadly, singing a beautiful and sad lingering song...

Out of tune, all the melodies are just sent from the heart according to the feeling.Sometimes it turns desolate, like weeping like tears, and feels the pain of being torn apart by the body of the tragic death; sometimes it is deep and melancholy, and sometimes it is gentle and tender, like a cold wind blowing warmth.

Those scattered wandering souls, hearing the sad and warm tune, seemed to have found their way back, and they were transported into the world where they died, but they still turned their heads repeatedly, and sparks swirled Flying and fluttering, reluctant to part with the world and the buried one...

As a result, more guilt and farewell were infused into the sad and desolate sound of the piano.The wind was bitter and the flames were ruthless, but the hands of the player did not hesitate at all.It is a sad road of life and death, and it is a road of belonging that must be taken. If you get lost, you will become a lonely ghost.

Huan Ye couldn't bear those fox people who died unjustly to be like servants, every time he plucked each string, he poured out the spiritual power of his life!

This is the tragic funeral song...

Looking at Jingqiu and Zhidong from a distance, their hearts trembled a little.They recognized that it was the Fuxiqin handed down by Ye Shenliu, and only the most benevolent souls could play beautiful music on that piano.

Since Mu Weilai passed away, no one has been able to pull the piano.They still remember that Fuxiqin hid in the hands of Huanye when the monsters surrounded the mountain.They also once mistook Huan Ye for Fuxiqin's disappearance. Although the little bat D had explained that Fuxiqin had recognized Huanye as the new owner, but they were still very surprised when they saw it with their own eyes today.

This Fuxiqin was actually driven by Huan Ye to come and go at the beck and call, even Mu Weilai back then had never been able to send and receive freely in such a short period of time!

Until now, all the red fox people including Hong Ling still don't know that Huan Ye is the reincarnation of Mu Weilai.Because Mu Weilai's soul is not a universal soul, how many demons and ghosts in the Three Realms have plans for this soul.

Considering Huanye's safety, Xiaobai colluded with Xiao D and kept it a secret from others.Jingqiu and Zhidong once again felt the unfathomable depth of that soul in that frail body.There is also the amazingly similar appearance, experience and ability, which makes them suddenly surge up in their hearts and want to call out a name they admire infinitely!

The sad sound of the piano lasted for three days and three nights.

The fire of burning corpses that was so bright in the sky was gradually extinguished.Those white ashes, with the residual heat from the ground, flew up and down in every corner of Changfeng Mountain in the scorching breeze.

Playing repeatedly for three days and three nights, his ten fingers were already worn out by the fine strings of the guqin.Numerous cracked blood mouths bloomed on the bruised fingers, the blood seeped like drops of wax, moistened the strings, and finally scattered like plum blossoms in the wind, solidified on the surface of the black xylophone, forming an ink painting of Ling Ye Hanmei.

Even so, he didn't hesitate at all when he played the piano, as if it wasn't his hand that was hurt, or his blood that shed.His eyes were full of haggard red hair, and his pale and colorless cheeks were a little thinner than before, but he still stood upright with a thin back, like an upright green bamboo, and no one dared to change his will.

Has the fear and anger imprinted in the souls of those who died because of him been appeased?He doesn't know the answer.Even though the corpse in front of him had turned into ashes, he still couldn't forgive himself.This is not the first time... If there is anyone in this world who hates him more than the ghost king Morduo, he thought, that person can only be himself.

Unknowingly, with the change of his mood, the sound of the piano stirred up more self-blaming depression.The turbulent inner breath rushed through his body chaotically. If he hadn't maintained a state of [-]% monster power, the destructive power of the inner breath on the internal organs would be devastating.

Fuxiqin is not an ordinary guqin, the strings can only be plucked with the power of the soul.Playing non-stop for three days and three nights, he has already exhausted all his energy. At this time, his body is like an ethereal shell, which is more fragile than glass.

He kept pressing his lips tightly, but he couldn't hold back the rising itch anymore.So he suddenly bent down and spat out a mouthful of blood.Blood splattered on the surface of the piano, and a gorgeous red peony bloomed, setting off the snow-fallen plum blossoms next to it.

The sound of the piano was only interrupted for a while, and then sounded intermittently again.It was still melodious and sad, but it was mixed with a slight heart-wrenching cough from time to time.With each cough, a little blood oozes from the corner of his tightly closed mouth.

Xiaobai was still in a deep sleep, otherwise how could he endure watching his master's cruel self-abuse?

"Your Highness, please stop... I believe that the souls of the lost clansmen have been rested in peace!" Zhi Dong couldn't stand it any longer.He has already lost his clansman, and he doesn't want to lose His Highness too!

Zhi Dong was about to rush over to stop Huan Ye from continuing to play the piano, but was stopped by the little D next to him.

"Leave him alone..." Little D said sadly to Zhidong softly, "He suffers more than death now, and only in this way can he relieve the pain in his heart a little bit. Moreover, the music of the piano can save the innocent souls who died in vain. The underworld is not bad for the souls of the red fox."

At that time, Huan Ye felt sad: Little D, Zhi Dong, you are wrong... the soul who died because of me will never let go.This is the curse of the devil world on me as a child of evil.I don't want fox people to turn into ghosts wandering between heaven and earth, so I use this method to force them into the underworld.

His heart was bleeding, but he couldn't confide in anyone.What he bears is the doomed punishment of a humiliating and despicable past.So the deeper the stagnation, the faster the body will collapse.Not long after, I couldn't even cough up blood.The slight dry cough that was suppressed was more painful than the knife for gouging out the flesh.

"Your Highness, why are you bothering..." Zhi Dong burst into tears again.Before, it was because of the death of Foxman, but now it was because of Huanye's sorrow.

The desolate sound of the piano is still intermittent, and the sound is touching, and the trembling strings seem to be crying and mourning...