There are ghosts in the heavy rain.

Zhao Wujiang walked past and walked towards the depths of Youdu.

Xie Bi'an was unwilling to believe in the death of his daughter Susu and his disciple Dong Ning, and he had been living in their obsession with being alive.

Although Dong Ning died, he was obsessed with it after his death. He wanted to find his deceased wife's remnant soul and protect her.

So there was a foolish scholar Dong Ning and Ye Qianchun, who had a strong cultivation level.

Zhao Wujiang didn't know what Xie Bi'an would do when he knew the truth again.

Should I continue to fall into obsession and unwilling to believe that Zhou Ershi escorted Dong Ning's soul to find Xie Chensu's residual soul, or should I wake up completely and accept reality.

Everyone has their own choices. Zhao Wujiang is just a passerby. He came into contact with this story by chance or by chance.

He is not a person in the story, so there is no need to stay in the story.

Now he just wants to scoop up a big big scoop of Wangchuan water to prepare for the warmth of his soul in the future.

The rain is getting heavier and heavier.

The cold rain was slapped randomly on his face.

The cold air penetrated the bones and was steamed dry by the boiling hotness of his mind.

He liked the feeling of being soaked all over his body and rain flowing through his whole body. It seemed that all the heaviness and depression would flow to the ground along the rain.

Nearly an hour later, the rain gradually stopped.

He walked through the streets and alleys, through the rain and mist and the misty gray fog, and came to a river.

The river water is clear and green, and there is a wooden bridge connecting the opposite shore on the water.

Not far from the bridge, there is a bluestone slab stained with moss at the bottom.

Zhao Wujiang narrowed his eyes slightly and touched his chin. No surprise, this bridge should be the Naihe Bridge, and this stone slab should be the Three Lives Stone, right?

He understands this, after all, the monster novels or myths and legends he has read all describe Youdu in this way.

What are the Forget River, the Yellow Spring, the Naihe Bridge, the Three Lives Stone...

Zhao Wujiang slowly approached the bluestone slab by the river, squatted down, and carefully observed the patterns of the bluestone slabs.

There are many potholes and lots of ravines.

"It is worthy of being the Three Lives Stone. This should symbolize a person's life, not smooth sailing and no smooth journey." Zhao Wujiang shook his head and sighed:

"The moss around the stone slab should be a metaphor for the past memories that gradually become mottled and foggy in a person's life, which leads to inaccurate past memories."

"Whose stupid boy? This is a laundry stone." A kind and fierce voice came from behind Zhao Wujiang.

He looked back and saw an old woman wearing a gray-clothed floral apron and holding a wooden basin in her hands.

The old woman looked at Zhao Wujiang with a look of caring for mental retardation:

"You young people are full of random thoughts every day, so get out of here."

Zhao Wujiang froze and turned his body sideways.

The old woman placed the wooden basin on the stone slab, squatted down, took out a long dark needle three inches long thickness in the wooden basin, and began to grind it on the stone slab.

She glanced at Zhao Wujiang:

"Silly boy, do you know what this is?"

Zhao Wujiang's eyes turned, and he did not feel the fluctuations in the old woman in front of him.

But he knew clearly that one of the current rules in Youdu was that he seemed to be particularly sober and able to speak normally. It is likely that he should not be underestimated and his strength should be quite good.

His eyes swept over the black needle that was constantly being ground, and he clasped his fists and said solemnly:

“Senior, know.

You want to tell me the story of grinding an iron rod into a needle.

As long as the kung fu is deep, the iron rod is ground into a needle, as long as the obsession is deep, there should be a day when the echo will echo."

The old woman widened her old eyes and coughed dryly, saying angrily:

"I'm going to let you leave quickly.

Otherwise, when I get the soul-suppressing nail polished, I will stab you to death with one nail."

Zhao Wujiang took a few steps back awkwardly. He felt that the old woman was not kidding. He held her fists and greeted her, trotted a few steps onto the bridge, preparing to go to the other side of the river.

The old woman sighed and continued to grind the soul-squeezing nail. The river water surging under the bridge, and the heads of several water ghosts poked out, as if she was coveting the man crossing the bridge.

The old woman glared at them, and the water ghost was sank into the water and disappeared.
Chapter completed!