Seeing his expression, the inn leader smiled with satisfaction. "You see, we are the same kind of people. Only gloomy and decadent philosophy can give us strength, and we can only continue this power by gradually increasing our decomposition ability. Maybe it's shameful

Or guilt prevents you from admitting it, but you know in your heart that all this satisfies your feelings of being tired of reality."

Shi Wushuang simply came out with his sword and struck out with the sword, but was easily dodged.

"Stop struggling. You feel more excitement than fear."

Shi Wushuang saw the inn leader appearing behind him, and the dagger in his hand stabbed directly into his heart.

However, the inn leader's outstretched hand suddenly changed direction, grabbed Shi Wushuang's wrist, pulled it into his arms, and easily knocked Shi Wushuang down.

"You are still too young." The leader of the inn waved his hand, and the mummy beside him instantly collapsed and turned into flesh and blood on the ground, flowing into the pool.

Shi Wushuang fell on all fours on the abominable ground, and a muffled noise came from the green vines, including dull breathing and howling wind.

Shi Wushuang felt the plaster beneath him begin to creak, the icy cold wind formed a whirlpool, and the water slowly turned red and gathered around him.

He tried to get up, but jumped again. The ground began to collapse, and the black mist billowed beneath him, like the entrance to the abyss. A large group of deformed souls who had fallen into the abyss lived in the dark darkness beneath his feet.

His hands clung to the edge of the ground, and he raised his eyes with difficulty to see the inn leader who was smiling very gently. "This is a fight without any suspense."

The inn leader slowly stretched out his toes and landed on Shi Wushuang's hand. As he moved, the cold and nauseating air merged into a poisonous airflow, blowing from all directions, followed by a harsh buzzing.

Voice.

"Unparalleled in the world, another unparalleled in the world. My child, I am very curious about what kind of energy your blood will contribute to the life that is about to be born." As he spoke, he slowly exerted force on his feet.

Just at the critical moment, a dagger was pressed close to his back, directly across his neck.

A bloodstain appeared on the neck of the inn leader, but instead of fear, a strange smile appeared on his face. "My child... the history is really amazingly similar."

After a warrior kills a monster, he himself will become a monster...

"You're not going to talk anymore, are you?" Ying Meng pondered for two seconds.

The old man smiled mysteriously and placed the brass teapot in front of Yingmeng. "Don't you want to hear it?"

Yingmeng narrowed her eyes slightly and chewed the two words lightly, her tone meaning unclear. "Wushuang? Another Wushuang? I can't help but be interested in this name alone."

The old man curled up the corners of his lips and flicked his fingertips. "Your tone is still not gentle enough, the sense of urgency is too strong."

"The inn leader's attitude toward Shi Wushuang is a little weird...a bit like a successor." Ying Meng chuckled and lowered her eyes. She always felt that there was some connection, a connection that frightened her to the extreme. This story...

"Maybe it's because of vanity." The old man smiled very lightly, with a strange tenderness in his eyes. "What you want to see is here."

"There are also

Maybe he wanted to give him the so-called redemption." Yingmeng thought about the previous plot. "Because of vanity, he deliberately created mistakes, which is different from the ghost in my impression."

The old man shook his head slightly. "Ghosts are human beings too."

The strange flute sound sounded again. I don't know who prompted the jade flute to play, or it was playing on its own.

There was a flash of pain on the face of the inn leader, and he squatted down with a black mist on his body.

Shi Wushuang seized the opportunity and threw the inn leader into the disgusting rotten juice inside the earth, making him the nourishment of the black mist.

"That's it?" Yingmeng's face was a little gloomy.

"Young man, please be patient. This is just a story."

Later, Shi Wushuang, who rescued the girl, took the girl all the way down the mountain, and happened to meet a group of people from the sect.

It turns out that the people of the sect discovered that Shi Wushuang, like the sect master, had left and never returned, and the matter of loyalty was urgent. Before, Shi Wushuang was afraid that they would also throw him out and take the blame, so he had a backup plan. In desperation, they had to personally

Come.

When Shi Wushuang heard their proposal, he sneered. It turned out to be so easy! What he wanted before was easily given to him, but... he didn't want it anymore. Nothing can influence other people's choices unless they are cared about.

.

Shi Wushuang threw the evidence in his hand back to them, flatly rejected the benefits they offered, and decisively told them in the same words that the sect master had said when he rejected him. "I will no longer worry about these worldly things."

The water here is very good. Wash it clean. Wash away the sins, your own and those you have shouldered for others. Although you no longer have power, it is not a blessing to be able to live clean and honest.

Shi Wushuang turned around and picked up the girl's sword and left. At the end of the world, they would find a paradise belonging to them.

But this time, the girl who symbolized purity and innocence had a cunning smile on her lips.

"He" has a ghost in his heart.

"He" is also a human being. Is it wrong to have ghosts in his heart?

How did the ghost appear?

Is it when you do things you don’t like in order to survive?

Or is it to adapt to the rules and regulations of society?

Or when the selfishness, greed, violence, and conspiracy in your heart gradually take over?

The old man pushed Ying Meng a cup of tea. "The story is over. History is a reincarnation."

Ying Meng touched the tip of her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Many different thoughts came to her mind. What did the girl's last smile mean? What does history mean? "You..."

"What? It's very different from what you imagined?" The old man gently stuffed the brass teapot into Ying Meng's arms. "This is just a story, and the plot is naturally designed."

Yingmeng: "Is there any other way?"

The old man: "The plot of the story has already been set, but it is impossible to describe everything with perfect techniques. Unexplained fragments allow some willfulness and accidents to appear. The process can be random, but the result is controllable anyway."

This coincides with No. 3’s idea! If... just saying if

, this story is true... the chess pieces have become the planners of a new round, then...

"Stories are written by people, can't people rewrite them?" Ying Meng tapped her fingertips twice, her face uncertain.

"Only living people can write stories. Do you think you are a living person?" The old man smiled slightly and looked deeply at Yingmeng.

Day after day, year after year, moving forward without a sense of purpose, is she really alive? In this material age, she strives to pursue spiritual satisfaction, but in the end she falls in line with this age.

Yingmeng's left hand unconsciously touched her cold neck, but there was no pulse there. For the first time, she calmly thought about whether there was still life in this body. Is she really still alive? Why is she living?

The moment she met the old man's eyes, Yingmeng suddenly felt a powerful suggestion. It was extremely persuasive. This persuasion did not come from the outside world, but from the inside - she was convincing herself.

What is tumbling in the brain? What is being erased?

"Who are you?"

"Anyway, it's not unique now. Don't think too much, it's just a story." The old man pushed the tea cup closer. "Drink more water, the water here is very good."

Yingmeng looked at the tea cup, lowering his head and not knowing what he was thinking.

Although the old man emphasized over and over again that this was just a story, she always felt that it was all inexplicably familiar. The unparalleled talent, the ability of the Immortal Lord, their last names, the weird warehouse experiments, the blood pool, the black mist... history seemed to be repeating itself.

. Unparalleled in the world.

Yingmeng thought about the story over and over again. As time passed, she felt that her mind was completely blank and she had no way to deduce it. The strange familiarity made her fear intensify every second.

She didn't know why she compared a ridiculous story with her own life, or why she connected every character in the story to a real person.

These thoughts were so bizarre that it was easier to doubt her restless senses than to accept them.

Wait... In the story, the Secretariat also drove itself to believe because it felt ridiculous...

A strange image appeared in Ying Meng's mind. This might just be some kind of brain illusion that lacked reality, but she did not add any bizarre fantasy spawned by imagination to this scene.

The tumbling pool of blood...the stench caused by staleness and moisture...but there is a hint of aromatherapy mixed in the stench, making people feel a little bit mocked.

Ying Meng calmed down the dizziness in her heart. She now has many regrets. "Why?"

Why tell me? Why does the story develop like this? Why...

"People always have reasons to drive themselves to find the truth. The truth is actually there, but no one can see its full picture. People will only conceal and tamper with the facts based on their own interests, so the truth becomes even more confusing.

." After saying this, the old man didn't speak again.

No matter how Yingmeng asked, the old man was just like a real phantom, without any response.
Chapter completed!