Thriller Night Talk

The man lying on the paper bed was stunned when he heard the words "Zhu Hongluo".

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to speak, but what came out of his throat was a muffled guttural sound.

"Oops, I forgot."

Beiquan quickly drew a simple spell, and it was photographed on Zhu Hongluo's body.

"Most of the souls who have gone to the underworld are unwilling, so they complain to each other, so you can't talk casually in the paper city."

Beiquan explained to Wei Fuyuan:

"Only before a judge are they allowed to appeal for grievances."

Wei Fuyuan let out an "oh", and finally understood the reason why Beiquan told him not to speak.

Bei Quan turned to Zhu Hongluo again:

"Now, you can speak."

Zhu Hongluo tried to clear his throat.

"Cough! Well, cough cough!"

Pronunciation is clear, it is indeed his own voice.

Zhu Hongluo raised his head, and the words "unbelievable" were written all over his face.

"Who are you... exactly?"

I haven't spoken for a long time, Zhu Hongluo seems to be about to forget how to speak.

His enunciation is very slow, his pronunciation is somewhat vague, and his sentences are not natural:

"Why do you know... my, name?"

"To answer your second question first."

Beiquan smiled, "Because we are looking for you."

As he said that, he pulled Wei Fuyuan over and put his hand on his little boyfriend's shoulder, "As for us, we came down from 'above' specially to ask you something."

Zhu Honglong stared at them steadfastly, and after a while, he gasped.

Of course, the soul does not need to take a breath, this is just a habit he still has as a newly dead person, and it is just a habit in his life.

"You mean... that, you... are actually living people?"

Beiquan nodded with a smile.

This answer was too provocative, Zhu Hongluo's expression finally showed an obvious crack.

He stood up, took two staggering steps forward, and stretched out his hands towards the two, as if he wanted to feel the warmth of a "living person".

But before he touched Beiquan and Wei Fuyuan, he suddenly came to his senses, and quickly shrank back.

"Are you here to find me?"

After recovering from the shock, the words from Zhu Hongluo's mouth became more fluent, "Do you know... what happened to me?"

"Know a little bit."

Beiquan smiled:

"Then, you have to tell us about other things."

&&&&&&&&&

"I didn't expect that I would encounter such a thing..."

Zhu Hongluo’s self-report took this as the opening remark.

As a folklorist, Zhu Hongluo spends at least six months a year in the countryside, collecting and recording local folk customs.

This job is simple and romantic in the imagination of many laymen. It seems that you only need to chat with fellow villagers, listen to stories and write a few articles.

However, who knows, folklore research is actually very hard work.

The institute where Zhu Hongluo worked arranged a small team for him, including himself, a total of three people.

The other two, one is a researcher at the Institute, and the other is a graduate student studying archeology.

Since about three years ago, Zhu Hongluo and his colleagues have been conducting a folklore research project in Southwest China, specifically investigating local customs of ancestor worship and sacrifice.

The project has been carried out for three years, and the three-person team has also traveled all over the poor mountains and rivers in the Southwest.

However, about a year ago, the graduate students in the team had graduated, and another researcher had temporarily asked for leave for two months due to family affairs, leaving Zhu Hongluo alone to continue his unfinished field trip.

Zhu Hongluo sat on that lame chair and showed Beiquan and Wei Fuyuan the record that he was still writing in the underworld.

Beiquan took it and flipped through the pages.

Wei Fuyuan leaned over curiously, and immediately frowned when he saw the paper.

The paper is crumpled white rice paper, which looks like it has been torn from waste paper. The writing pen is a brush, and the "ink" is some kind of red or black, dark ink. liquid.

What was written on it was completely incomprehensible to Wei Fuyuan, and it was a real ghost painting talisman.

In Master Wei's view, these are just curves and ink dots drawn casually on paper, no different from the graffiti of a three-year-old child, and cannot be called "characters" at all.

He glanced at Beiquan quietly, and found that Beiquan seemed to be able to read these weird lines, and looked at them very seriously.

After Beiquan finished reading the stack of "records", Zhu Honglong continued.

"I remember...it should be May 5 last year."

Hongzhu Zhu said:

"At that time, I was investigating local folk customs in a small village about [-] kilometers south of Qi County. A fellow villager told me that a "boss" who 'shoveled the ground' came from the next village, and he seemed to have received two good goods. .”

"Shoveling the land" is a jargon among cultural relic dealers, referring to the act of picking up leaks in farmers' homes and buying antiques at low prices from people who don't know the goods.

The "boss" of course refers to the antique dealer who came to pick up the leak.

In the early days of reform and opening up, the antique market flourished again, and with market demand, merchants would emerge as the times require.Cultural relic dealers ran to the countryside one after another, "shoveling" the "land" over and over again, no matter the real antiques or fake cultural relics, as long as there is such a possibility, even the sauerkraut jars from other villagers will not be spared , 50 yuan was tied to a cart and taken away.

But there are a lot of valuable antiquities after all, after many trips back and forth, even if you search every corner, it is very difficult to "shovel" out any valuable objects.

Therefore, nowadays there are not many antique dealers who go to "shovel the ground" in person, and when they visit occasionally, most of them rush to dig out ancient tombs, and some artifacts go to the countryside.

Zhu Hongluo is a folklorist, of course he does not work as an antique dealer, but he is very curious about the "good things" in the hands of the "boss".

Sadly, curiosity often kills cats.

Zhu Hongluo became that poor cat this time.

"I was afraid that the person would leave after receiving the goods, so I drove to the neighboring village by car that day... I saw that person."

It is said that the "boss" who just received the "good product" is a middle-aged man in his 50s. He is only about 1.6 meters tall, dark and thin. Like a malnourished Southeast Asian stowaway.

Generally speaking, these antique dealers who walk on the edge of law and morality are quite wary of outsiders who don't know the details.

However, Zhu Hongluo is a folklorist who has been walking in the countryside all year round and has rich experience in dealing with various religions and nine streams. He thinks that he should be able to make friends with the other party smoothly, and maybe he will have the opportunity to take a look at the "good stuff" he received.

But to Zhu Hongluo's surprise, the "boss" was surprisingly easy to talk to.

After Zhu Hongchao revealed his identity, the other party not only did not show disgust, but also offered to make friends with him, and asked him to have dinner and drink at the restaurant run by the villagers at night.

"At that time... I actually felt a little strange."

Zhu Hongluo lowered his head and shook his head helplessly:

"But I thought at the time that the place to eat is a restaurant where people come and go, and I don't have much cash and valuables on me. What can a skinny man over fifty years old do to me?"

Having said that, he let out a long sigh:

"Then, I paid dearly for my negligence..."

The dark and skinny antique dealer claimed to be named Chen Mingchao, but as for whether it was true or not, Zhu Hongluo had no way of verifying it.

During the meeting, the two chatted very congenially.

From Zhu Hongluo's point of view, although Chen Chao was not good-looking, his knowledge was surprisingly extensive, and he was a bit like a folk Bai Xiaosheng.

He knows astronomy from the top, geography from the bottom, and harmony between people. He seems to have dabbled in yin and yang and gossip. Even if it is the field of folk customs that Mr. Zhu is most proficient in, he can also intervene, and he can speak clearly and insightfully.

They chatted for hours.

It wasn't until after drinking for three rounds, when Zhu Hongluo felt drunk, that Chen Chao took out a black velvet box and showed him the "good stuff" in his hand.

Hearing this, Beiquan smiled:

"I guess, it's a golden silk auspicious cloud pattern east bead bracelet, isn't it?"

Zhu Hongluo was taken aback, "How do you know?"

After thinking about it, he understood:

"Could it be...you have already found that bracelet?"

"We did get that bracelet."

Beiquan affirmed Zhu Hongluo's guess.

"Do you know what 'thing' that bracelet is?"

Beiquan added the accent on the word "Dongxi", and he hoped that Zhu Hongluo would understand what he meant.

Sure enough, Zhu Honglong shook his head, "I don't know."

He said:

"I only glanced at that bracelet, and never even touched it, let alone...knowing what a 'thing' it is."

Beiquan smiled and didn't ask any further questions, but only motioned for the other party to continue talking.

So Zhu Hongluo went on to say:

"Then, I got drunk...my last memory is the moment when I lay down on the table and lost consciousness in a daze."

He pointed to himself:

"When I regained consciousness, I was already on a dark path... I was dead."

Speaking of this, Zhu Hongluo laughed, the laughter was very bitter.

"At that time, I didn't know that I was dead, and I didn't know that I was walking on the legendary 'Huangquan Road'. I just instinctively followed the light in front of me, walking...continuously...until I came to this city."

Zhu Hongluo told Beiquan and Wei Fuyuan that when he first arrived, he had no possessions, and he couldn't understand his situation, and he couldn't speak. wild ghost.

Fortunately, he could write well and met a kind-hearted old couple, so he managed to figure out the ins and outs and accepted the fact that he had "dead".

"It's funny, isn't it?"

Zhu Hongluo laughed at himself:

"I didn't even know when and how I died... I just became a fool who didn't understand."

He thought about it and added:

"And, there's one thing that's really weird."