"But based on my current understanding of Shen'en Sect..." Chen Qing frowned, seeming a little strange: "They are now more trying to integrate the abilities of entities into themselves.
This seems to have nothing to do with...the method of creating stories. "
Bu Zhaozhao shrugged his shoulders and curled his lips again: "I don't know what they have developed into.
A group of lunatics can be forgiven for any changes they make. "
"You just praised me as an amazing genius." He asked happily.
"Genius and madness are synonymous in most cases, and in a small number of cases they are the same word." She shook her head, and then said: "But just transforming yourself into the protagonist of an urban legend is not a normal person. It can be done.”
"That's true."
She took a breath before continuing: "The achievements of the second method are often accompanied by conspiracy. In war-torn times, it is okay, artillery fire and death are the natural soil, but in peaceful times."
She shook her head, but Chen Qing understood her metaphor.
In times of peace, they have to create their own strife.
“But such a promotion can easily be injecting disadvantageous factors by intentional people in the process of spreading.
For example, after I heard the rumor, the story I told the next person was this: 'The monster in the story will disappear when it sees the light, and will sleep to death at night.' Thus……"
She listened and nodded: "Yes, this is the second step; kill everyone who knows the story, and then hide the story in a certain corner.
He hid in the void and turned into a manta ray. He hid in the lava and his body was like a blazing fire.
At this time, they became mythical creatures. "
Chen Qing squinted his eyes, and the images he had seen before kept flashing through his mind. He recalled the document Jiang Wan handed him, and carefully tasted what was written above.
"Does the legendary stage require you to actually write down the story you want to sing?" he asked.
"Probably...it's not necessary." Bu Zhaozhao shook his head and replied: "Maybe, but I don't know the details in this regard."
He nodded in understanding and fell into silence again.
He lost his memory due to a failed investigation, and became an investigator again due to the layout of the Divine Grace Church.
Now, he saw traces of the activities of the Divine Grace Religion at the door of his only relative.
What do they want to do?
He thought about it and looked out the window.
The morning sun shines on the ground, the shadows of the trees are dancing, and the breeze blows, making the mottled shadows dance alive.
They are happy, ordinary people who live under the shade of trees year after year, day after day.
They are common. When you see one person, you see a group of people on the street.
They are happy, they live a hand-to-mouth life and maintain a meager income despite unfair treatment.
They are hard-working, bathing in the earliest ray of morning sun and absorbing the deepest ray of moonlight in the night.
They went from the beginning of the year to the end of the year, but after a busy year, they listened to those people instilling perfunctory and empty goals into themselves.
They often hear people say that rest is a sin; they hear people say that they should create value for the world, so after a busy year, they want to stuff themselves tightly in those pitiful few days of free time.
Just stuff them tight like those guys do.
They are happy - because they are all ordinary trees on the street.
When they are taken out alone, no one will remember them.
They are happy, because when they get together, they call the forest - call.
At least they are happy, because everyone says so.
At this moment, Chen Qing looked at those people who looked alike, and suddenly felt that he was the happy one.
Because He alone has thousands of faces.
He returned all the way to his uncle's community. It was the time of day when the sun was at its strongest in the morning, and there were no people on the road in the community.
A few words came from the bustling crowd, which seemed to be talking about a certain shrew in the community being taken away by the police station.
He didn't listen much. After walking to the corridor with ease, he took out the human skin in his pocket.
The son and younger brother of that family are still at home.
He was born with some intellectual disabilities, and this aunt doted on him exceptionally.
So he was nine years old, but he still didn't know a word or two at home.
He walked up, and his body changed when he took two steps.
He began to gain weight, her voice became shrill and mean, and his hair became curly and blond.
His face began to have wrinkles caused by obesity. After walking up a few steps, he became a woman.
"Hey!" She thought for a while, as if her aunt was calling her son by his nickname: "Maomao? Come out and open the door!"
Before she finished speaking, there was the sound of shoes "bah-bah-bah" coming from the door as she approached the door. She made a gesture to push forward, but found that the door was not open and was blocked.
"Password! No entry without password!"
She was stunned. What could this stupid family be doing?
"Oops." She pinched her voice and said, "What should I do if Mom forgets the password?"
"The password... there is no password! Then I have to spend money! Give me a hundred yuan!"
The corners of her eyes twitched in disbelief.
"Didn't you say that this child is mentally disabled?" Bu Zhaozhao asked in a low voice in his ear.
"Even a fool knows what is good for him..." She lowered her voice and answered softly.
Chen Qing coughed twice before saying to the door: "Okay, okay, open the door quickly and let mom in."
Before she finished speaking, the door opened, but when Chen Qing was about to push the door open, a bright knife appeared in front of Chen Qing.
"Give me money!"
She was stunned for a moment, and then heard the child shouting: "Give me the money!"
He screamed at the top of his lungs, and the fat on his body trembled again and again. He grasped the handle of the knife tightly, and there was no hint of joking in his appearance as he prepared to attack.
The child's facial features were very wide, typical of Down syndrome.
"Give it, give it." She smiled, and another voice seemed to appear in her mind.
"Why is my son so smart? He even knows how to use a knife!"
That voice is smiling, that voice is musical, I am proud of it.
She imitated that voice and said it.
"Humph." He said in a proud tone, "I studied hard!
