I put the bone back to its original position, and finally floated to the surface.

As soon as I looked out, I met Song Zhen's eyes on the shore.

She clearly said she was going to bed, but she didn't go. Instead, she stood on the shore and stared at me with a gloomy expression.

I was the first to show a sly smile: "Song Zhen, why aren't you asleep yet?"

Song Zhen pursed her lips, looked at me inquiringly and said, "Master Zhao is the one. Why are you here looking at Zhang Geng in the middle of the night?"

I jumped onto the shore and shook the water: "You were covered in blood just now. It smells weird. Let's wash it in the water."

"Did Master Zhao see anything at the bottom of the river?"

I shook my hair, and the water drops on my hair scattered everywhere, and some of them fell on Song Zhen's body. Song Zhen didn't care, and still looked gentle.

I said casually: "It's true. I saw some black jars. What are they used for?"

Song Zhen lowered her eyes, her slightly trembling hands betraying her nervousness.

"It's some pickled vegetables. The villagers' secret method of making pickled vegetables made Zhao Tianshi laugh."

I waved my hand and looked interested: "Pickles? I love pickles the most. Do you have any at home?"

Song Zhen's hands suddenly clenched, but her face remained calm: "Sorry, I just finished eating."

"Oh, then I'll go down and get a jar to eat. The food I eat these days feels tasteless..."

"No!" Song Zhen reacted fiercely, with a slightly ferocious look on her face.

I raised my head and looked at her steadily.

Song Zhen said with a smile: "What I mean is that the current pickles are not tasty enough, and they are not delicious when taken out. If Zhao Tianshi likes to eat them, I will mail you a few jars after the pickles are made. Tomorrow

It's time to be buried, why don't Master Zhao take a rest for a while..."

I grinned, but I didn't care too much, and walked to the yard on my own.

Song Zhen breathed a sigh of relief. She turned her head and looked at the gray-white stone bridge with a gloomy expression.

When she wasn't paying attention, I reached out and patted her shoulder.

She subconsciously grabbed my wrist. Her speed was extremely fast, faster than the dream-eating tapir, faster than Wang Liqing, and even as fast as me.

There was just the right amount of surprise in my eyes: "Song Zhen, do you know Kung Fu?"

Song Zhen waved her hand and said: "No, I just learned two self-defense moves from my grandma. They are both simple and used to guard against perverts. My grandma said that I am a little girl and it is very dangerous to go out. There are always some men.

Be kind to me."

Song Zhen was referring to Sang scolding Huai, she just pointed at my nose and said I was a pervert.

I didn't feel embarrassed at all, I just said calmly: "Yes, your grandma is right."

I let go of Song Zhen's shoulders. Song Zhen seemed to finally realize that what she said was wrong, and quickly explained: "Tianshi Zhao, I didn't mean that, I..."

But my expression changed and I said seriously: "What about other than that?"

"What?"

"Did your grandma say anything else?"

"Master Zhao, what are you referring to?" Song Zhen returned to her cautious and pitiful look, looking at me with slightly red eyes.

I lowered my head slightly, moved closer to her cheek, and stared straight into her eyes: "I mean, has your grandma ever told you what crossing the bridge means?"

Song Zhen's body trembled violently, but she was quickly stabilized by herself. Her eyes were filled with a hint of coldness, and they were so gloomy that they could not see the bottom of it.

But soon, this chill was covered by herself again, her eyes were so pure and innocent.

She waved her hands repeatedly, with tears rolling down her cheeks, like a frightened little rabbit: "I, I really don't know..."

I straightened up and looked at her with a half-smile: "I don't know, forget it, why are you crying? It seems like I bullied you. Go find me some clean clothes and pants."

Song Zhen nodded and walked towards the house as if running away.

I looked at her back steadily and whispered: "I gave you a chance."

She kept walking, not sure if she heard or not.

The next day is the funeral day.

Dark clouds were overthrown, the sun was gone, and the sky was dim and gloomy.

The gloomy wind blew loudly, and many people came to the funeral. They held elegiac couplets and wreaths, paper villas and sports cars. Some people also brought a few paper figures, saying they wanted to burn them to Wang Lan.

Be a servant.

Before the funeral officially started, these people were standing at the door, with more anxiety than sadness in their eyebrows, and more fear than sadness.

They held white paper in their hands, stared directly at Wang Minghao, and thanked him warmly, saying that he was a good person.

Wang Minghao frowned. He obviously didn't like this kind of enthusiasm, because these people didn't behave as if they regarded him as a savior, but more like they regarded him as the last life-saving straw that a desperate robber could grasp.

I looked at these people casually, and they all had black air on their heads.

Did Wang Lan really only give the stolen Yangshou to Song Zhen?

Zhang Geng didn't realize it at all. When these people came up to express their gratitude to him, he deliberately tightened his face and maintained an aristocratic look. Only the excitement in his peach blossom eyes revealed his true thoughts.

This guy didn't realize the seriousness of the matter at all, and was still feeling secretly happy.

After being praised for a few words, I forgot about the strange bird last night and became complacent.

I don't know whether to call him optimistic or heartless.

At this moment, sixteen young and strong young men walked in from outside the yard. They were naked from the waist up, revealing their knotted muscles and strong bodies.

Their skin was dark and their eyes were bright. When they saw the coffin, they all swallowed, as if they were a little scared.

They said nothing, as silent as a parrot with its tongue cut off or a gourd with its mouth sawed off.

They held paper cows and paper figures in their hands, and they placed these paper products on the ground in an orderly manner.

Two cows made of paper, four boys and girls, and a car made of paper.

It seems that the current funeral industry is also keeping up with the trend, but using oxen to pull cars seems somewhat nondescript.

The eyes of the paper cow and the paper man are empty, but their noses and mouths are lifelike.

These young and strong young men walked to the black coffin and lined up in two lines, neat and serious.

Song Zhen explained: "These are the coffin bearers I invited. Their horoscopes are very Yang Qi. Although they are not as good as Zhang Geng, they are still pretty good. Wang Tianshi, can you take a look at these paper products?"

Wang Minghao nodded with satisfaction, and the old man stroked his mustache carefully, looking like a master who had a chance to win.
Chapter completed!