C3 Qingming Zhi

So I opened the book again, and this time I could feel a chill coming from the pages. I shivered. This time, I looked even more attentively. Starting from the first page, I discovered a very strange thing. The words on the back of the page are all different. In ancient times, there was a shortage of paper. The pages must have been printed on both sides of the book, but the back of the book was blank, leaving it for later generations to write on. I thought about it. It was probably not printed, but copied and not written on the back — that's another story, I don't understand.

But now, someone on the back has written a lot of words with a ballpoint pen. It seems that someone wrote a note on this book before me. I was more interested in the note, so I began to look at it. However, the calligraphy written by this person was too terrible. It made me dizzy and my brain bulge. He kept saying that he was a hell commissioner or something, and even saying things like "inertia" or "nothingness". After looking at it for a while, I got tired of it and decided not to look at it anymore. Suddenly, I found a person's name inside. I recognized it.

Everyone should know that I accidentally saw the name "Zheng Gaang".

I was shocked, this book about the hell commissioner actually had the name of someone I know! I immediately thought back to the time when Zheng Gaang hid in the sewer.

Due to my curiosity, I started to carefully read the notes that were scribbled on it. I roughly understood that this person was also a hell commissioner, and he listed the names of several hell commissioner s that came from my home in Yichang. There was a person called "Motherfucker Wu" in the Western Dam, there was also some "Auntie Qin" in Xing Shan, and there was even a "Wang-mu Gouzi" in the current Yang … Dozens of people, including the "Zheng Gaang" that I know, because their age and address are all correct, I can be sure of that. Judging from his tone, he was very respectful to one of the hell commissioner s, who was surnamed Zhao. The others all had a look of despise — — It looks like he was a very awesome hell commissioner as well.

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. These books must have been stolen by the female Taoist priest in my luggage. With so many of her subordinates protecting him, bringing these books into my luggage shouldn't be a problem. Her goal must be for me to write a story about the hell commissioner. It looks like she had already investigated me before, otherwise, how would she know that I would publish an article online. I know there are a lot of great people in this world, and there are quite a few who have government backgrounds, so I'm not surprised to know where the book came from.

But to make an atheist like me write a ghost story about the hell commissioner, it's f * cking hard for me. I held up the book and kept thinking. At this moment, my colleague, who was playing mahjong beside me, wanted to go to the toilet, so he asked me to go to the toilet. I sat down in the mahjong position, still reading the book, playing mahjong with one hand and holding the book with the other.

A colleague who was beside me saw my strange posture, so he immediately looked at the book and laughed. "Xu Gong, there is a person whose name is very similar to yours!"

I asked curiously, "Which name?"

"Xu Yunfeng." His colleague said, "Isn't that similar?"

I was stunned and immediately flipped through the entire book. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't see this name. His colleague immediately pointed to the page, "That's the name."

I was dumbfounded, because I couldn't see anything except blank space where my colleague's fingers touched me. My colleague asked me, "Why did your face change? What kind of book is this? It's weird."

I handed the book to my colleague. "Do you still have these three words?"

A colleague pointed out several places in succession, "Here, here... Isn't it all? Sigh, why is your face getting more and more pale? "

I felt my forehead break out in a sweat, because wherever my colleagues touched me, all I saw was blank, which meant that I couldn't see the three words that other people could see. This, this, was completely unexplainable. I was getting more and more panicked. I kept thinking about that weird female Taoist priest in the airport where I met him by chance. There must be a reason for this. I was being watched, and that person was definitely going to be a sham or a psychological hint.

The guy in the toilet came back, and I moved out of the way and sat back down on my bed with the book in my hand. This time I didn't relax.

In fact, it wasn't much, it was just a work record, recording a matter of hell commissioner pulling people around, but in the end it seemed like the person who wrote the letters found out that all the missions were scams, and wanted to argue with someone, and then there was nothing left.

At that time, my thought was to immediately find my student Zheng Gaang and ask him about it, but I am already abroad, so I can only look for him after returning to China. I didn't expect that this wait would last for two years.

I put the book of the Book of Qingming in my suitcase and didn't want to touch it again. Then I threw myself into my work and gradually forgot about it. But half a year later, by chance, I remembered something else, so I opened my suitcase and took out the other two books. My heart was pounding, and after thinking for a long time, I finally picked up the second book, which was also a handwritten copy. However, I have heard of < The Darkness Biography >, it is an epic poem passed down through our western Hubei, and it was sung especially at funerals. Some people have even organized and published < The Darkness Biography >, and it has even caused a sensation.

However, due to the shock I felt from the previous book, I cautiously opened the title page. After opening it, he found that the words inside were very clear, and the calligraphy skills were no longer scribbled. When I was young, I heard it at the funeral, so I could understand it with a single glance. When I turned to the second page, I found the line space between the lines of the poem crammed with words. The words were lines of writing, sonorous and forceful, and one of them was also complaining about something, intermittent, about who he had betrayed, and now moving about in a bumpy way. It seemed like a huckster was also writing her diary.

But when I turned the page to the middle of the book, I found that the type had changed, the script had become a script, and the handwriting had changed to someone else. The words written in this book were very clear. When I saw them, I became enchanted, telling the story of two sorcerer's Apprentices, slowly taking them in as masters, then the two of them becoming awesome, and finally becoming enemies. The way this man narrated her story was like the difference between heaven and earth. It was organized, and it went through ups and downs.

I lay on the bed and looked at it for a long time. I read it non-stop for a few days. I was attracted by the plot inside and infected by the characters inside. After work every day, I would lie on my bed and read "The Darkness Biography". The more I read, the more I became engrossed in it, so much so that one night, while I was reading, my roommate suddenly shook me: "Xu Gong, what are you doing?"

"I'm reading a book." "No," I replied.

"What are you reading, and what are you muttering about," his roommate said. "You turned off the lights long ago."

I was stunned. As expected, the lights were out, but I didn't realize it, and then I realised that even in the dark, I could read the words in the book. Could it be that the words in "Darkness Biography" could be seen at night? Or is it that my eyes have changed and can be seen at night?

I didn't think too much about it and fell asleep. Later, I slept only at eleven o'clock every day, but when I went to sleep, the story in the book still lingered in my mind. When he woke up the next morning, he found that the number of pages he had been reading was several times more than before he had gone to sleep. After that, I stopped worrying about it.

When I finally saw the end of the story and the end of the project, I remembered that there was still a book that I had not read. So I reopened the oilskin package in my suitcase and took out the last one, and then I realized that it wasn't a book, but a notebook. There was no name on the cover.

After opening it, he found that the words inside were very delicate and exquisite. One could clearly see the handwriting of a woman. There was no explanation for the calligraphy, at least it seemed very comfortable.

I turned it over and saw that the woman's handwriting was the only thing in the entire book. There were no other words. Now let me tell you, the first line on the first page is about the head, and the words are "Great Grandmaster."

Now everyone knows why I went to find my student Zheng Gaang. This is a very important question to me. I have never seen that female Taoist priest before, I thought that after I return to my hometown, that female Taoist priest would suddenly appear in front of me. So, in order to resolve the confusion in my heart, I had to look for Zheng Gaang. I instinctively understood that Zheng Gaang must know something, and I had to find him and ask him who "Xu Yunfeng" was and what was his relationship with me. Why couldn't I see those three words in "Qingming Zhi". In fact, I did not guess wrong. Zheng Gaang gave me his answer.