It was a quiet night, and the clear light deep in the sky dimmed its color. The morning light faded, and Yanziping became brighter.

After Ning Changan finished washing, Wang Xian made a simple breakfast. During the meal, they chatted for a few words and asked for the direction of Woma Lake. Ning Changan left Yanziping.

There is no plan to return directly to Chentang County.

The prerequisite for sorting out documents and reporting them to the county magistrate is to investigate the entire incident clearly.

After passing the village entrance, Ning Changan saw Wu Yanshun, an old man making dustpans.

The morning light leaks from the branches of the old locust tree, forming spots of light and dark on the ground. The old man is leisurely and quiet, and the bamboo sticks in his hand are threaded through flowers and butterflies.

Ning Changan had the urge to draw a sketch for the old man.

He didn't bring any charcoal, so he finally gave up. After greeting the old man, Ning Changan rode out of Yanziping.

It is more than ten miles away from Woma Lake. It is not far but not close. Ning Changan takes a small road and takes the mountain trail.

The mountain road is rugged, but the advantage is that you can see Woma Lake after crossing the ridge, and Ning Changan has the idea of ​​​​refining three beauties in wooden boxes when encountering beasts.

The trees are bleak, the grass is withered and yellow, and fine dust is brought up by the horses' hooves and flies up with each person and horse.

A moment later, Ning Changan stood on the ridgeline.

Below the field of vision is Woma Lake. The shape of the lake is like a lying horse, with sparkling waves. Taking Woma Lake as a line, it is lush and lush to the south, with green mountains, while to the north, the vegetation is yellow and lifeless.

No people were seen fetching water, and the mountains and fields were quiet.

Ning Changan walked down, his horse was humane, snoring from time to time as he followed Ning Changan.

There is a cemetery on the gentle slope of the mountain, with dead grass swaying.

Ning Changan frowned as he passed by.

"Cemetery, why do I always feel like my heart is twitching, like something is left behind?"

Halfway off the ground, Ning Changan suddenly stopped.

I remembered!

The night before, I came across a cemetery when I was approaching Yanziping. I entered it with the purpose of refining three paper figurines. I saw the name Wu Yanshun on the broken monument.

The old man with whom I had been chatting for quite some time in Yanziping was also named Wu Yanshun.

Same name and surname...

Is it a coincidence or...

Without hesitation, Ning Changan led his horse from the mountain path straight to the cemetery where he had searched for the wandering souls the night before.

At that time, Ning Changan appeared in the cemetery full of weeds.

The stone tablet has aged, and the uneven surface is full of traces of rainwater chiseling. It is unmistakable that the name engraved on it is Wu Yanshun.

With his heart beating faster, Ning Changan found another section from the grave on the right side of the broken stele, which was submerged into the ground, revealing a part of the stele covered by weeds.

The time was written on the inscription that was washed away by the rain but was still clear.

The thirty-second year of Yuanjing;

Wu Yanshun of Yanziping, named Yantong, was fifty-seven years old;

Yuanjing is the reign name of the Yu Kingdom, and it is now the thirty-eighth year of Yuanjing, which is six years since the monument was erected and six years after Wu Yanshun's death.

Where is the old man who makes dustpans in Yanziping?

Ning Changan's scalp felt numb.

If it were the same person, I would have seen a ghost in the daytime!

Why can’t the old Taoist Talisman see the evil spirit? It’s unreasonable!

The cemetery was quiet, and there was no sound in the surrounding areas. Ning Changan walked back and forth to check other stone tablets scattered on the ground.

The corner of his mouth twitched again when he saw the name of Wu Xuexian.

Ning Changan remembered clearly that when he was chatting with the old man in the afternoon, a man in his thirties went out to fetch water and greeted the old man. Wu Yanshun called Xuexian.

The two people had the same name as the cemetery and both came from Yanziping. Coupled with the bloodshed of the Clay Buddha in the mountain temple, Ning Changan was certain that something was wrong with Yanziping.

To be serious, it is a ghost village.

I encountered a ghost house on the outskirts of Chentang County. It is now a ghost village and has been upgraded. The key is that the old Taoist Qi-Wang Talisman seems to have failed.

Feeling weak in his legs, Ning Changan sat on the edge of the cemetery.

Surrounded by green foxtail grass that is full of vitality and swaying in the wind, Ning Changan makes plans.

[The qi talisman has failed and the ghosts in the ghost village are evil and powerful. Thirty-six strategies are the best strategy. Report back to the Yamen. Who believes it!]

[The county magistrate believes that due to his cautious and careful character, he will definitely report back to the Mirror Division. He will come and go, at least a few days, and at most half a day, and the opportunity will be wasted]

[Challenge alone, the risk factor seems to be a bit higher]

Then Ning Changan thought of the Blood and Tears of the Clay Bodhisattva.

Reminds me of the scene in the haunted house where the sword scares the red clothes.

The Qi Wang Talisman is ineffective, but the Earth Escape Talisman, Fire Talisman, and Barrier Breaking Talisman are not, and there are still six Dou Nangong Nails on his body.

As the sun rose high, Ning Changan stood up.

Check the equipment, put the Yamen horse into the mountain forest, and Ning Changan appears in the mountain temple in a fight.

The circles under the Clay Bodhisattva's eyes were red, which was caused by bleeding before, but his head was still there.

Three pieces of dogtail grass were used as incense, and Ning Changan offered them.

"There is something really wrong in Yanziping. Tonight Chentang County police officer Ning Chang'an will uncover the truth and slay the demons. If I really need to turn around and call for reinforcements, you have to protect me so that I can escape safely."

After praying, Ning Changan squatted in the woods outside the mountain temple.

Observation lasted most of the day.

The case is solved, there is a real problem.

When we arrived at Yanziping the day before yesterday, the sun was shining brightly. There were people coming and going in the village, and some people were pushing wheelbarrows out to fetch water. At the moment, Ning Changan had not seen anyone leave Yanziping for half a day.

The hundreds of villages stretching along the valley seemed to have completely disappeared.

Yesterday's scene was all for myself to see. No wonder a Taoist priest invited by the Wang family entered Yanziping to check to no avail. The ghost acted out a show, so lifelike!

When the sun moves westward, Ning Changan is meditating in the mountains and forests. The qi circulates in the Dantian and crape myrtle are solid and thick. Ning Changan picks up his sword and walks along the path to Yanziping.

After the sunset faded, Ning Changan appeared under the old locust tree at the end of the village.

The old man was still knitting a dustpan, and Ning Changan walked over and sat down on a stone bench about a foot away.

As I sat down, I checked out of the corner of my eye.

The old man remained indifferent and glanced at Ning Changan. "Ziwo Mahu is back."

The scabbard of Ning Changan's heavy sword hangs to the ground.

His eyes were looking in the direction of the mountain temple slanting towards the ridge.

"Did I say we would go to Woma Lake?"

The old man paused and smiled: "I told you."

Ning Changan smacked his lips, it turns out that ghosts can refuse to admit their guilt.

"I went to Yanziping the night before and stayed overnight at the mountain temple there. I saw something strange."

The old man was stunned again and asked: "What happened?"

"The eyes of the clay Buddha in the temple are bleeding"

The old man Wu Yanshun laughed: "The Clay Bodhisattva has no head."

"You know the Clay Buddha lost his head"

The old man's facial muscles twitched, "I went to the mountains to collect firewood, went up and down the mountain, why didn't I know?"

"That's right, I saw something weird the night before."

The old man stopped what he was doing and looked at Ning Changan.

"When we were near Yanziping, we passed by a cemetery. There was a broken monument with the name of the owner of the tomb engraved on it. His name was Wu Yanshun."

The afterglow in the west dispersed the last bit of light, and the night fell. Ning Changan clearly saw the body of the old man sitting on the stone bench shaking, as if he was about to rise up from the ground.

The corners of Ning Changan's mouth also twitched.

The old man who was knitting the dustpan first had muscle twitches, then his body trembled, and with a series of body movements, something fell from his face.

It's a piece of dough connected to part of an ear.

Putting the Jingzhe sword on his right hand, Ning Changan said: "Mr. Wu, something has fallen."

Wu Yanshun laughed at himself: "When people get old, they can't remember things. If something falls here or somewhere, they will also lose it. Look at you, you are young and strong, energetic, and have good eyesight. You are really enviable."

The old man lowered his head and looked for the lost thing.

Then I saw a piece of dough with half an ear on one side of the stone bench.

"Chi", the sword edge broke through the air.

Ning Changan drew his sword;
Chapter completed!