Seventy-two Changes of the Evil Spirits

The moonlight seemed to inject flesh and blood into the evil spirit outlined by the lines, and seemed to be jumping out of the book. Li Changan felt chills. He turned the pages of the book. On the front page of the text that had faded, two words of ink reappeared. .

"Tongyou?"

Li Changan muttered, literally speaking, he could communicate with ghosts and spirits. But what does this mean? Li Changan's thoughts are chaotic, and he is puzzled by the current situation.

He is not a person who sits in place and thinks.

He stood up and walked to the door of the ruined house.

This door seemed to have been untouched for a long time, and it was covered with dust and cobwebs.

Li Changan took a deep breath.

"Stab it."

The wooden door slowly pushed open amidst the friction of the door shaft.

A hustle and bustle of the market suddenly rushed into my ears.

Li Changan raised his head in astonishment.

Compared to the dilapidated and miserable house, outside the house is another world.

This is a long street with compacted loess, and there are some ancient Chinese buildings on the side of the street. Although it is late at night and Yutu is in the middle of the sky, white lanterns are hung on both sides of the long street, and the lights and moonlight are also bright.

The long streets are even more crowded, but the pedestrians wear clothes, either wide-clothes and short sleeves, or shorts in linen. Even the goods sold by street vendors are also hairpins and candied gourds. There is no trace of modern society.

It's like plunged into a costume drama.

There was some shallow mist on the street. Although the lights were still bright, it was a little indistinct if they were farther away.

Therefore, pedestrians seem to have walked from nothingness, and walked into nothingness again.

Li Changan walked through this crowd in despair.

"Candied haws are sold!" An old man yelled from the street carrying a straw pole.

"The newly picked mountain flowers today." The little girl in a Suluo skirt passed by Li Changan with a basket on her back.

There are all kinds of pedestrians dressed in ancient costumes with Li Changan side by side, a huge sense of absurdity fills his mind.

What is this place? Why am I here?

………………

"guest."

A middle-aged man with a white cloth on his shoulders suddenly stopped him.

"Would you like noodles?"

Li Changan came back to his senses, only to find that he had come to a noodle stall unknowingly.

He was about to shake his head to refuse. He had just eaten dinner at the grandfather's funeral banquet, but the scent tumbling in the pot was stirred by the night breeze, and a scent that had never been smelled rushed into his nose, and the food in his stomach was just As if digested all at once.

Without paying attention, he sat in the empty space of the noodle stall.

"Guest, your face is here."

With a cry from the store, a bowl of steaming plain noodles was placed in front of Li Changan.

I don't know what material it was made of, but it turned out to be black. These chopped green onions were sprinkled on it. When the hot noodle soup was washed, the heat mixed with the aroma and hit the human face.

Li Changan took a deep breath of the aroma, and felt the aroma rushing from his nose to his forehead. He quickly took the chopsticks and couldn't wait to take down the chopsticks. But in a blink of an eye, does the boss recognize the RMB on his body?

Thinking of this, his eyebrows suddenly rose and hurt, and he closed his eyes and rubbed it for a long time.

As soon as he came over, he heard a hoarse voice coming from the neighbor.

"Shopkeeper, your soup tastes weakened."

Li Changan followed the sound and looked over, a rickety old man, holding a bowl of noodles, moved to the big pot of noodles.

"Okay, the guests wait, I'll just add to it."

Let's just say, the owner of the noodle stall held his head with both hands, just like that, his head was twisted off by himself, and then he fumbled for the noodle pot with his hands, and threw his head into the boiling noodle soup.

Li Changan was so risky that he didn't scream out of fright.

He fixed his eyes and realized that the flame under the noodle pot was not red but green, and what was burning inside was not wood, but human bones.

In such a horrifying scene, Li Changan didn't notice any surprise on the diners around him.

He shook his heart and looked towards the street.

"Your flower."

The little girl in Suluo's skirt smiled and took out a dead man's hand from the basket, and handed it to a pair of pale men and women.

"Candied haws, take it."

The old man took off a bamboo stick, not sugar balls, but red eyeballs.

He squatted down and handed this string of eyeballs to a child with soaring braids.

The child took the eyeballs and opened his mouth. The mouth opened wider and wider, and the corners of the mouth seemed to be cracked to the base of the ears. Even one of his own eyes was squeezed out, but he nonchalantly caught the eyeballs. The eyeballs were tucked into the mouth together.

"Crack."

The juice splashed everywhere.

Li Changan shuddered, not daring to look again.

Looking back, where is the face in front of me.

The black noodles were clearly a mass of hair soaked in water, and the chopped green onion on it was maggots chopped with a mess of knives.

Where is the night market, it is clearly a ghost market!

…………………

Li Changan squeezed his thigh vigorously, calming the fear in his heart with the pain.

He looked at the surrounding environment carefully, and when he reached the noodle stall, the white lanterns along the street were gradually scarce, and the pedestrians or ghosts on the road were also in twos and threes.

It should be near the end of the ghost market.

Li Changan glanced at the direction of the noodle pot again. The old man stood blankly holding the noodle bowl. The headless boss was stirring the pot with a long-handled spoon, making the head soup made by his own head.

The aroma of the soup rushed into his nose again, and Li Changan couldn't help feeling nauseous.

He gently put down his chopsticks and quietly left the noodle stall.

Without looking at the dead faces on the side of the road, he walked forward quickly.

"Guest, your face money hasn't been given yet."

Suddenly, the voice of the noodle stall owner faintly sounded behind him.

In an instant, the street suddenly became quiet. He was doing his own ghosts, but stopped what he was doing, looked at Li Changan, and slowly surrounded him.

The way forward was blocked.

Li Changan came out with cold sweat, and he turned his head slowly.

The noodle shop owner was standing behind him, holding his head between his waist with one hand, his head full of water stains and steaming hot.

"Guest." The head opened his mouth. "You don't have money!"

Li Changan swallowed vigorously, and after a series of shocks, the fear in his heart subsided a lot.

"It doesn't matter."

He said with a smile, and while talking, he pushed his head back to his neck and wiped the soup on his face with a rag. Maybe it was too cooked. The place where the rag was wiped was all skin and fleshy, exposing the bones.

"Guests can use other things to settle the bill."

"Pay off?"

Li Changan whispered softly, in this situation, the word seemed to have an inexplicable chill.

"That's right!" said the noodle stall owner faintly, "Heart, liver, spleen, lung, kidney, where can I get it?"

After the words, the group of ghosts is approaching.