Zhao Wujiang stood on the bridge and looked at the scenery.
With white walls and black tiles on both sides, the houses look like a small town in the south of the Yangtze River in his hometown in the haze of rain, fog and gray fog.
He slowly walked off the bridge, came to the other side, and continued walking towards the depths of Youdu. The divine water ladle in his arms did not move at all, so the river under the bridge should not be the so-called River of Forgetfulness.
He was walking in the streets of the small town in the hazy mist and rain. From time to time, ghosts would pass by on the streets. They would just glance at him and then go about their own business.
He does not disturb ghosts, ghosts do not disturb him, and everything is peaceful.
As he was crossing a street, an old man in ragged clothes and an unkempt face looked like an old beggar stumbled toward him, leaning on a bamboo stick and saying ouch, ouch, ouch.
Zhao Wujiang dodged sideways, but the old beggar missed him, then turned around and bumped into him, as if he would not give up until he bumped into him today.
Can ghosts touch porcelain? Zhao Wujiang dodged, and the old beggar kept changing directions, and the two of them walked in a circle.
"Ouch."
Zhao Wujiang let out an ouch. He had been dodging well, but suddenly the old beggar seemed to have crossed the space and directly hit him in the waist.
He met the old man's eyes.
"I'm sorry, little brother, I didn't mean it."
The old man's eyes were cloudy, he smiled apologetically, stretched out his hand to hold Zhao Wujiang's shoulders, and began to forcefully stroke Zhao Wujiang's body along the shoulders.
Damn it, not only is he a porcelain, but he is also an old pervert... Zhao Wujiang wanted to break free, but found that his figure was so weird that he could not move much, so he could only let the old man touch him from top to bottom.
"It's good to be young, it's good to be young. You have a strong figure and you're energetic." The old man sighed and reluctantly took back his hand.
"Old man, do you have a problem with me?"
Zhao Wujiang narrowed his eyes slightly. Something was wrong. There was a fierce old woman in front of him, and now he was an old man with lewd eyes. Could it be that he was being targeted again?
"No, no." The old man shook his head quickly and explained:
"I happened to be passing by."
"Old man, how can it be a coincidence that you are behaving like this?" Zhao Wujiang touched his whole body to check if there were any missing treasures, but he found that nothing was missing.
His face was solemn, his body was full of cultivation, he cupped his hands and cupped his fists:
"See you later."
The old man chuckled and did not stop or speak. He just watched Zhao Wujiang retreat away from him.
He lightly touched the ground with his bamboo stick, and the aura of the remaining souls in the street swayed. The nearly transparent souls jumped up to the houses next to the street, climbed over the eaves and walls, and followed Zhao Wujiang's pace.
His eyes were no longer lewd, and became cloudy and deep. He kept pinching his fingers and murmured:
"Bingzi, on the fourth day of August, I can't figure out the time. It's strange. Could it be that someone is deliberately hiding the secret?
This child is only a year, a month and a day old, and already has four taels and six coins.
Even if the time only accounts for five cents, there are still five cents.
In this life, everything will be prosperous, and you will be prosperous without having to work hard. Your brothers, uncles, and nephews will all be happy, and your family will be prosperous and prosperous.
But this son's destiny was lacking, and there were not many relatives left.
It shouldn’t be, it shouldn’t be, life shouldn’t be.
No, no, life is wrong!
Who is changing his fate and letting this person get closer to Mrs. Meng Po?
Or is it that this person's soul is incomplete and his fatal number is not up to par? "
The old man's figure disappeared in the haze of mist and rain, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared on the edge of the Forgotten River, kneeling down on one knee towards the beautiful girl beside the river:
"Mr. Po Meng, there is something wrong with Zhao Wuhou's bones. Just now he is old and can't figure out the time."
"Counting the hours, the weight of fate is too much or too little."
The girl swayed her legs and her ancient skirt swayed lightly. She gently threw a stone as green as glass into the river. With a pop, water splashed everywhere.
"Less." The old man looked respectful and said in a hoarse and low voice:
"Someone stole his life...or..."
"Maybe he is someone's soul." A slight smile appeared on the girl's lips, and two shallow dimples appeared on her charming face:
"Bring him here..."
