C4

In the afternoon, while he was looking at the floor plan of Qingquangang Village, there was a light knock on the door. I raised my head. At the entrance, Xiao Wang said, "Village head, this is a villager from Clear Water Village. He wants you to approve the construction of a house in a piece of land." Following the voice, a man in his forties wearing green clothes walked in.

I replied, "En! Come in!" His eyes moved back to my drawing.

"Hello, Village Head. I am the village villager of Clear Water Village, Zhang Qingyang. I want to build a house, you can give me lots of land!" As he spoke, he handed over the foundation application and the account book. Actually, after passing Xiao Wang, I only had to wait for the seal to be stamped. I raised my head and met his gaze. He had a simple and honest expression, but there was a flash of surprise in his eyes. What was he surprised about? Did he not expect that the village chief everyone was talking about was so young?

I looked at his application carefully, took out the chapter, covered it, and handed it to him. When I looked up, he was staring at me in a daze.

I called out, "Zhang Qingyang!"

He was lost for a while before he finally reacted. He stretched out his hand and took it, but there was no happiness on his face. I looked at him strangely. "What's the matter with you?" Are you not feeling well? " He shook his head. "No, no, thank you, Village Chief!"

I gently smiled. The villagers were all very honest and honest. Seeing that we were really working for them, they felt grateful in their hearts. In fact, this is also our scope of work, "officials do not make decisions with the people, it would be better to go home to sell sweet potatoes!" I looked down at my papers and heard him say, "Chief, you're busy. I'm leaving."

At night, we will go to Zhang Yuanyang's house. This is also a small friendship. Zhang Yuanyang refused to comply, so he called Changhe's wife. No matter what, he did not let Changhe go back.

After all, Zhang Yuanyang was involved in publicity, and was good at controlling and inciting the emotions of others. Zhang Yuanyang and Little Wang were not in a good mood, they were actually amused by a few words from him. Ocean's mother and wife were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Uncle Zhang was standing in front of the door, smiling and smoking a cigarette. After exchanging a few polite words with Uncle Zhang, everyone entered the room and sat down.

Under the lead of Zhang Yuanyang's emotions, I believe that Chang He and Little Wang have already forgotten about the previous night and Little Wang even started to hum a song.

Around 6 AM, Uncle Zhang and Yuanyang saluted their ancestors and we began to eat.

Naturally, they would eat and chat to cheer up the fun. As they chatted, they would start to talk about the folklore. Little Wang asked curiously, "Yuanyang, did you say that your ancestor has returned? You haven't even seen them, how do you know they're back? "

Zhang Yuanyang was startled, he did not expect Little Wang to ask this question. He took a sip of the wine and said, "Actually, I'm not too sure, you don't know. Regarding this custom, it was passed down from the previous generation, from generation to generation. However, this sort of thing was to rather believe that it existed than not. It's just a feast, and I've already eaten it myself. Please be at ease. "

Uncle Zhang also said, "That's right. This custom has become a custom. Since every family agrees, it will continue to spread. There are many things that one doesn't know where they came from!"

Little Wang said thoughtfully, "Then has anyone really seen it before?"

Chang He should be as familiar with the local customs as Yuanyang was. It was not appropriate for Xiao Wang to bring up this question at Yuanyang Clan's banquet to honor the "Old Ancestor", but Chang He also wanted to know, so even though he was puzzled, he did not interrupt.

In his heart, I could be considered a big shot of this village. Although Little Wang's question was a little unsuitable for me, it wasn't out of bounds. In here, even if he doesn't give face to Little Wang, he still has to give me face. Uncle Zhang thought for a moment, then said, "I haven't heard anything about it recently. Thirty years ago, I heard people from the older generation say that the faraway village is not very clean, that it used to be a barren mountain, and that the bandits who go there saw someone going there. Instead of using a sword, they chopped off a person's head. Later on, a Daoist Priest came and examined the surrounding terrain. He said that these vengeful spirits were pitiful when they were alive and could only be subdued and not destroyed. He did not know what methods he used to calm down over there, but when it came to the July Ghost Festival, it was still gloomy and no one dared to walk that path in the deep of the night. However, not everyone can see those supernatural things. It's said that they came from the heavens, the earth, and the heavens, and that they came from the previous and present lives. "

Little Wang's eyes began to glaze over. "Cut off a person's head with a single slash?"

What we see, isn't it just a headless image?

Uncle Zhang laughed heartily, "This is a story my grandfather told me. Hur Hur, at that time I was only seven years old, very naughty, and once I ran away I would disappear. My grandfather could not find me, but he was worried, so he tried to coax me with the story.

Zhang Yuanyang took a bite of the dish and laughed, "That Zhang Qingyang from the Qingyang Village is that Taoist's descendant, hehe!"

Hearing that, Xiao Wang immediately grabbed onto Zhang Yuanyang's arm and asked urgently, "What did you say? Clear Water Village? Zhang Qingyang? "

Zhang Yuanyang looked at Little Wang with doubt, then his gaze moved to the sleeve that Little Wang tightly grabbed, then moved to Little Wang's face and jokingly said, "Yo, Little Wang, I'm talking about that Taoist's descendant. They're all stories I heard during my childhood, I, Zhang Qingyang, have never admitted to it!" Why are you in such a hurry to find the descendant of the Taoist priest? Could it be that you want to take him as your master? "

Little Wang was taken aback. She smiled unnaturally and said, "Hur hur, no, I was just casually asking."

Zhang Qingyang? Wasn't that the simple and honest farmer who asked me for a batch of foundations today? I and Long He looked at each other, perhaps only I and Long He understood why Xiao Wang had asked this question.

It was after nine o'clock after dinner, and the moonlight was clear, so we left together.

Changhe didn't bother to return to his room. Little Wang took the initiative to say, "Changhe, come sleep at my place tonight. Let's have a good chat."

Chang He seemed to have something on his mind as he nodded in agreement.

Back at the dormitory, I washed my face and thought about what Uncle Zhang had said. Was it a coincidence? If the image I saw the day before yesterday was the soul of a man who had been beheaded years ago by a strong man, how could I convince myself? But how could I explain what that image was? It was a joke that all these years of education should fail to explain the strangeness of what was happening now and to believe that it was a ghost.

But I can't explain it. Changhe and Little Wang were talking about something when I went to Little Wang's room. When I walked in, Little Wang came over to welcome me. Little Wang said, "Village Head, are you still awake?"

"What are you talking about? Heh, I can't fall asleep, so I came over to chat with you guys. It's rare for Chang He to stay for a night here, so don't let him sleep so early. "

"The weather is so hot," said Chang He with a smile.

Little Wang looked at me, wanting to say something but hesitating. I smiled. "You brat, what's the matter?" Now that you have learned to stutter, it doesn't seem like your style! "

Chang He stood up. "Little Wang and I had wanted to ask you about this all along!" He looked at me and said slowly, "You were the only one who didn't run the day before yesterday. What did you see then?"

I looked out the window and said slowly, "He held up his hand, held out a finger, and disappeared!"

Long River stared at me and mumbled, "One finger? Why did it stick out a finger? What did it want to say? What does it mean? "

I don't know why it stretched out a finger. What does it mean? Was it hinting at something?

After returning to the dormitory, he carefully read the documents from Qing Quan Gang once again. The documents were scattered on the table and the blueprints were spread out, but he was unable to calm down. He tried his best to focus his thoughts on the blueprint but his mind was in a mess. He couldn't do anything about it, so he had no choice but to give up. I turned on the TV and listened to the sounds inside. It was actually a "buzz" sound and I couldn't help but get impatient. Long River's confusion was also my confusion. We've all seen it. What will happen to us?

Lying on the bed after turning off the television, Zi Yue's youthful and beautiful figure suddenly surfaced in his mind. That shy and displeased appearance, that water like gentleness, he felt as if he had just drank a glass of wine.

He had felt this way before when he was in university with his girlfriend. Did I really fall in love with Zi Yue?

The night was deep and dark, and a cold breeze blew through the quiet July night like a fine spring rain, causing people to feel extremely comfortable. However, an inexplicable panic seized me. I didn't know what I was worried about, but I kept feeling an inexplicable feeling around my front and back. Maybe it was a person, maybe it was something I couldn't explain. The presence of that aura was so obvious that there would always be the sound of that aura brushing past my ears from time to time.

The curtains moved in the wind, and through the open window one could see the stars outside. The cold moonlight poured in through the open window, forming a small square frame. Li Bai's concept of "moonlight in front of the bed, on the ground frost"?

It should have been very beautiful, but why did it feel a little eerie.

As the wind grew stronger, the curtains began to sway violently, now bulging, now twisting into a bundle, as if an invisible, playful hand were playing with it, and the moonlight through the window became indistinct, irregular, and changing from time to time. A piece of paper had been blown off the table. It must have been a document I hadn't kept properly. I got up and put the documents on the table in a drawer. Just as I was about to go back to bed, the feeling of being surrounded by a cold aura surged up again. I felt a chill down my spine. It was July and the moon was bright and clear outside. I could actually feel the cold. Who was behind me? I turned around abruptly. There was nothing behind me, but the chill in my back didn't lessen. Was he still behind me? What did he want to do?

Cold sweat was pouring out of my pores, and as I stood there, fear gripped my mind, and my lips began to tremble, and my scalp went numb. My brow tightened, and my breathing grew rapid, revealing the fear in my heart. I was in a confrontation with that aura. I clenched my fists tightly and realised that my palms were covered in sweat and that my limbs were ice-cold. I could feel a dark gaze looking at me from a certain direction. I didn't move. That cold aura came from behind and lingered around him for a long time.

Suddenly, I felt a chill on my neck, as if someone was blowing cold air on me. I whirled around and faced the window. The moonlight outside was cold, and I could just make out a blurry image in front of my window, slowly forming into a shape and slowly standing up. He waddled towards me, his long, thin figure and fluttering sleeves, but he had no head.

It was it, it was it! It actually came here?

I stared at him closely, and then another shadow appeared at his side, but it was very blurry. That figure was actually like Little Wang? Am I seeing things? Little Wang? Slowly he raised his head and saw clearly that his eyes were bulging and that there was blood on his face. Then he grinned at me, that grim smile, that horrible smile. It's definitely not Little Wang! It's definitely not Little Wang! Who is he, then, and who is he?

My brain exploded, and I realized I couldn't think. I didn't know, I didn't know what I saw, my feet went limp. Slowly the headless figure stretched out its hand, the pale moon, the pale fingers, and its hand crept slowly into the window, and I stared at it, to see what it would do, and the pale hand, the pale hand, stretched forward, cold and still, to my face, and with each step my heart beat more irregularly, the cold and dreary night, the thump of the heart, clear and loud, its body not moving, not understanding why it had so long arms. I didn't know where the courage came from, but I could only look at that hand and didn't dare to move.

Suddenly, that hand suddenly grabbed at me. I took a frightened step back, tripped on something, and fell to the ground …

He woke up with a start. The moon was cold outside the window, and the curtains were fluttering in the wind. There was no image, no hands, no, no, nothing.

My body was still shaking. I raised my hand to my forehead, the fine beads of sweat were cold to the touch, and my hands and feet were as soft as if they had just recovered from a serious illness. His gaze swept across the table. The table was completely empty. He clearly remembered that the documents in front of his bed were all spread out on the table.

My thoughts went blank again.

The dream was so horrible, so real, that I couldn't tell if it was real or not.

I snapped on the light, and the room immediately became as bright as day. Only in this light did I feel some reality. I let out a long breath.

I patted my forehead. I had been thinking about the development of Qingquan Village for the past two days, and I was exhausted from my mental exhaustion. What I had seen the other day had become an indelible image in my mind, so naturally I entered into my dreams. It's time I let myself go.